Early in October, James Walsham was to go up to London, to commence his
medical course. A week before he was to start, Mr. Wilks went down in
the morning, intending to insist on his returning with him to the Hall.
As he went down towards Sidmouth, the old soldier noticed how strongly
the wind was blowing, the trees were swaying and thrashing in the wind,
the clouds were flying past overhead. Everything portended a severe
gale.
Finding, at Mrs. Walsham's, that James was down on the beach, he
continued his course until he joined him there. James was standing with
a group of fishermen, who were looking seaward. Now that he was exposed
to the full force of the wind, Mr. Wilks felt that, not only was it
going to blow a gale, but that it was blowing one already. The heavy
clouds on the horizon seemed to lie upon the water, the waves were
breaking with great force upon the beach, and the fishermen had hauled
their boats up across the road.
"It's blowing hard, Jim," he said, laying his hand on the young
fellow's shoulder.
"It is blowing hard, and it will blow a great deal harder before
nightfall. The fishermen all think it is going to be an exceptional
gale. It is blowing dead on shore. It will be bad work for any ships
that happen to be coming up Channel today.
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