EEBNY COMBES. 
23 
of Combmarten, and tbe bay studded with faery 
islands and indented by faery inlets. 
Descending into tbe valley, across fields and 
through narrow water-lanes, we pass through part 
of the straggling dirty street of Combmarten, which 
looks best at a distance; and ascending a preci¬ 
pitous hill leave the road, turning to the right into 
a footpath that meanders along the cliff. Here 
there is many an enchanting view. At length we 
reach Watermouth, standing at the end of a lovely 
valley which runs up by Berrynarbor, the tower of 
the church rising above the trees to our left. Close 
by are mysterious caves and arches, through which 
exquisite peeps are to be gained looking back to¬ 
wards Combmarten and the Hangman. Here the 
Madrepore still dwells, while round about, its fos¬ 
silized brethren of ancient days star the pebbles 
that the tide plays with on the shore. 
On ! on! on! Never satisfied with the beauties 
near at hand, ever looking afar, we leave the cove 
of Watermouth, a small lake, as it looks when the 
tide is in, and emerge again on the turfy cliffs. 
We pass by Hele, where the wild balm grows; 
away to our left is the ferny dell of Chamber 
Combe, with the haunted gabled house in the fore¬ 
ground ; and come at last to Ilfracombe, where on 
a grey rock the chapel of St. Nicholas, now a 
