310 THE LAND'S END 



" At first our thought had been What in the world 

 shall we do here for two mortal hours ? Now we 

 wished we had two whole days. A sunset, a sunrise, 

 a starlit night, what would they have been in this 

 grand lonely place almost as lonely as a ship at 

 sea ! . . . 



" The bright day was darkening, and a soft grey- 

 ness began to creep over land and sea. No, not soft, 

 that is the very last adjective applicable to the Land's 

 End. Even on that calm day there was a fresh wind 

 there must be always a wind and the air felt 

 sharper and more salt than any sea-air I ever knew, 

 stimulating too, so that our nerves were strung to the 

 highest pitch of excitement. We felt able to do any- 

 thing without fear and without fatigue. . . . Still, 

 though a narrow and giddy path, there was a path, 

 and the exploit, though a little risky, was not fool- 

 hardy. We should have been bitterly sorry not to 

 have done it not to have stood for one grand ten 

 minutes where in all our lives we may never stand 

 again, at the furthest point where footing is possible, 

 gazing out on that magnificent circle of sea which 

 sweeps over the submerged land of Lyonesse, far, far 

 away into the wide Atlantic. . . . 



" Half a mile from Marazion the rain ceased, and 

 a light like that of a rising moon began to break 

 through the clouds. What a night it might be, or 

 might have been, could we have stayed at the Land's 

 End! 



" That ghastly c might have been ' ! It is in great 

 things as in small, the worry, the torment, the para- 



