A RAMBLE AND A SCRAMBLE. 45 



the grim wall that towered above my head seemed 

 about as climbable as the Duke of York's column. 

 Matters certainly began to look serious ; I thought 

 of Sir Arthur Wardour and his daughter in the 

 ' Antiquary/ and would have given something to be 

 assured that another Edie Ochiltree or anybody else 

 had seen me enter so perilous a strait ; but there was 

 little chance of that, and it soon became evident that 

 my fate depended on my own exertions. On I pushed, 

 surveying now those cliffs with very altered looks, and 

 feelings by no means enviable. At length I reached a 

 place apparently more practicable than elsewhere at 

 least there was no choice : to climb or drown were my 

 alternatives and fortunately I at length succeeded 

 in scaling a height sufficient for my purpose, and 

 perched myself like a sea-bird upon a ledge of rock. 

 There was nothing for it but to sit there patiently 

 and thankfully, asking myself 



" What are the wild waves saying ? " 



until the tide receded weary hours they were but 

 at length they passed, and I again saw the yellow 

 sand beneath me, and recommenced my journey. I 

 had, however, had enough of the seashore for that day, 

 and a few miles further on was enabled to gain the 

 summit of the cliff. It was now growing towards 

 evening: no house appeared nothing but a bleak 

 expanse of moor ; it was getting dark, and to add to 

 my discomfort, it began to rain; on I trudged, as 

 long as the direction in which I was going could be 

 seen ; but when this was no longer distinguishable, 

 very disagreeable anticipations as to the future pre- 



