Mr. Merton, who had become tired of waiting, now joined them; and he made Agnes observe the curious shape of the isolated rocks at Freshwater Gate. One, that stands at some distance from the shore, forms an arch; and another, which is nearer to the cliffs, is of a conical form, and pointed. This last is called the Deer-bound Rock; because a deer, pursued by the hounds, is said to have leaped on it from the cliffs, about seventy years ago. “And then there’s the caverns, sir,” said the waiter. “There are ten or twelve caverns. There’s Lord Holmes’s Parlour and Kitchen, Neptune’s Cave, the Frenchman’s Hole, the Wedge Rock, and the Lady,—there you see her, sir, sitting as natural as if she was alive.” “That is,” said Mr. Merton, “I suppose you see a rock that a little imagination may make you fancy a lady in a cavern.” The man did not seem to like this interpretation; but he could not contradict it: and they walked back to the inn, where they found breakfast waiting. Agnes had then a glass of the excellent water for which the place is celebrated,—and which is so rarely good close to the sea;—and they left Freshwater, delighted with its little inn, civil waiters, and excellent fare, to visit the Needles and Alum Bay. The shape of the Isle of Wight has been compared to that of a turbot; of which the point called the Needles forms the tail. From this point, which is the extreme west, to Foreland Farm, near Bembridge, which is the extreme east, the whole island measures only twenty-four miles in length; and its greatest breadth, which is from Cowes Castle to Rock End, near Black Gang Chine, is only twelve miles. It is, therefore, extremely creditable to this little island to have made such a noise in the world as it has done; and its celebrity shows that, small as it is, it contains a great many things worth looking at. One of the most remarkable of these curiosities is the point of land towards which our travellers were now advancing. It has a strange effect upon the natives of an inland county to hear the sea roaring on both sides of the tract of land they are passing over; and, when the point is reached from which the tongue of land springs which forms the promontory called the Needles, and the sea is seen, as well as heard, in this unusual position, the effect is still more striking. The part of the promontory on which the light-house is erected is seven hundred and fifteen feet above the level of the sea; but the downs slope down towards the cliffs. These, however, are still six hundred and fifty feet above the sea, which roars awfully beneath them. The promontory is of chalk, intermixed with flint; and the isolated rocks, called the Needles, show that it formerly projected much farther into the sea than it does at present; as they are evidently the remains of a portion from which the softer parts of the chalk have been washed away, while the flint and the firmer parts have been left. When Mr. Merton’s party reached the