The rain fell in such torrents that the town was scarcely visible
through it. It rose on a plain in the form of a terrace,
buttressed on volcanic rocks three hundred feet high.
The appearance of the island through the thick veil of rain
was mournful in the extreme.

Lady Helena could not go on shore as she had purposed;
indeed, even coaling was a difficult business, and the passengers
had to content themselves below the poop as best they might.
Naturally enough, the main topic of conversation was the weather.
Everybody had something to say about it except the Major,
who surveyed the universal deluge with the utmost indifference.
Paganel walked up and down shaking his head.

"It is clear enough, Paganel," said Lord Glenarvan, "that the elements
are against you."

"I'll be even with them for all that," replied the Frenchman.

"You could not face rain like that, Monsieur Paganel,"
said Lady Helena.

"Oh, quite well, madam, as far as I myself am concerned.
It is for my luggage and instruments that I am afraid.
Everything will be ruined."

"The disembarking is the worst part of the business.
Once at Villa Praya you might manage to find pretty good quarters.
They wouldn't be over clean, and you might find the monkeys
and pigs not always the most agreeable companions.