And as the flare died out and the
beating gale struck him fun in the face, he sank to his knees
and fervently thanked the good God who had so miraculously steered him
to safety.
He had struck the light in the hope of attracting some coast guard's
attention. He was not sure whether he was on the island of Cape Clear
or on the mainland. Receiving no response, he started inland over the
cliffs and found a well worn road. This he followed for some distance
until he came to a place where it branched off, one road leading to the
coast and one leading into the country. He chose the one running to the
coast and soon afterwards entered the street of a village. No light was
visible. The furious gale tore along the street carrying slates from off
the roofs of the low houses. These crashed around him in an
uncomfortable and dangerous manner. Rounding a bend to the village
street he observed a light burning brightly in a window. To this he made
his way hoping to find some one up. In answer to his repeated knockings
a man appeared at the cautiously opened door. At this moment the force
of the wind pushed Paul suddenly forward and carried the door and man
bolding it heavily in. The affrighted expression of the man as he
gazed on the strangely clad figure was ludicrous.
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