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Clouston, J. Storer (Joseph Storer), 1870-1944

"The Man from the Clouds"

In that low-lying isle one got
the most extraordinary views of the weather and could see storms
approaching when they were still leagues away, and portents of rain or
wind hours ahead of their coming. This evening the frost had vanished,
the sun was sinking into a grey-blue bank, little filaments of wind
clouds were reaching all over the sky, and a stiff chilly breeze was
already blowing in from the sea.
"We are going to have a change," I thought.
And we were indeed going to have a change; and of more than weather.
Those storm clouds were blowing up the something I wanted to happen,
though how promptly would I have changed my wish had I but guessed! But
Fate had loosed that nor'west gale and there was no stopping the order of
things now.
In the night I remember waking once or twice to hear the wind shouting
down the chimney, and to feel very snug in bed. When I got up it was
still blowing a full gale, and looking out of my window I could just
catch a glimpse of the masts and funnels of a large steamer which seemed
to be lying under the lee side of the island for shelter. What she was
precisely I could not see enough of her to say, nor when we met at
breakfast, did the doctor know more about her.
Like many a storm that springs up very suddenly, this one began to
subside as fast, and in the course of the morning I set out to have a
closer look at the strange ship.


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