They continued to descend till they reached the bridge, where they paused for a few moments to look around them; and a more gloomy scene can scarcely be conceived. They were surrounded by precipitous cliffs, which rose high on every side, and looked as black as night. Not a single sprig, not a blade of grass, not a tuft of moss, was to be seen; all was dark, save a few bands of a dusky yellow colour, which gleamed on the dark sides of the rocks. But, if the scene was thus dreary when they looked above, what was it when they cast their eyes below? There a fathomless abyss seemed to yawn to receive them. Mrs. Merton shuddered. “I think we had better return,” said she; “for it is getting late.” “Oh! mamma,” cried Agnes, “don’t let us go back without seeing the Chine.” “We are more than half-way down,” said the man; “and the rest of the road is not half so bad as it looks.” Mrs. Merton suffered herself to be persuaded; as, indeed, she seldom could refuse anything her darling wished, unless she thought it would be injurious to her; and she recollected that she had never heard of any accident occurring from visiting the Chine. Shipwrecks were, indeed, common on the coast; but that was another thing. She, therefore, gave her consent to go on; and they continued their descent. The path now became very steep; but they advanced more rapidly, and soon reached the point from which the best view of the Chine is obtained. Agnes was, however, excessively disappointed when she saw the small size of the water-fall. “What!” cried she; “is that all?” The man in vain assured her that the cascade was larger in winter; Agnes would not be pacified. She had seen the falls of the Clyde; and she could not be persuaded that the little paltry stream that she saw trickling over the ledge of the rocks could ever be worth looking at. Her mother, however, at last turned her attention to the rocks themselves, which, in some places, are five hundred feet high; and to the vast chasm, called the Chine, which has been scooped out of them, and looks like the crater of an extinct volcano. The cliffs did, indeed, now look awfully grand; and the wind, which blew from the sea, howled among their recesses. The tide was coming in; and the high-curling waves broke against the rocks with a deafening roar; and then retired, murmuring as if they had rushed upon an enemy that they had hoped to overpower by their might, and had been beaten back again. “Now, let us go,” said Mrs. Merton. “Oh! stay a moment!” cried Agnes. “There is something in the sea that looks like a man’s head.” Mrs. Merton and the man both looked, and saw, though it was now nearly dark, something black and hairy that was beating about by the waves. “Bless you! miss,” exclaimed the man: “that’s a dog.”