noon
Once or twice a fascination took hold of him , and , despite the terror that awed him , he threw a glance over his shoulder to see if after all he were pursued by the shadow he so much feared to meet . Then the wind began to utter strange sounds -- wailings and lamentations -- its burden being a wild entreaty to return ; and once he thought he heard an infant 's cry , and he paused in his despair . A steep and rugged path lay before him -- a path that led under trees whose swaying branches flung off raindrops in blinding showers , and a gleam of light shot shaft-like from a rift in the sombre clouds , and falling across his feet , led him to wonder how heaven could shed a fitful smile on sorrow like his own . Familiar with the moods of nature , he deemed the hour to be that of noon ; nor was he mistaken , for the sky began to clear , and with the light came the return to a calmer mind . He now , for the first time , realized the folly -- probably the disaster -- of his flight . Might he not be needed at the cottage ? Was not his dying wife 's prayer for his presence and succour ?