Mrs. Merton shrank back, and let four men pass bearing the body of the young fisherman. He was apparently quite dead, his long black hair hung back from his pallid face, which was distinctly seen by the torches carried by some of the men, and his aged mother walked beside him, hiding her face in her apron. The young Londoner still lay on the beach, with his faithful dog panting by his side; for it seemed that the people had gone to seek for him some more suitable mode of conveyance; but he was not alone, for several persons crowded round him; and among them Mrs. Merton was glad to perceive their guide. She beckoned him to approach, and under his guidance they began to retrace their steps. The way was long, and in some places the ascent was frightfully steep. It had become quite dark, and the flame of the torch carried by their guide quivered so tremulously in the sudden gusts of wind that howled round them, that they feared every moment it would be extinguished. The rain now began to fall—slightly at first, but gradually in thick small drops, that chilled them to the heart, and made the soft clay over which they had to climb, so slippery, that they could scarcely keep their feet. At last they reached the bridge; and they had no sooner done so, than they saw distinctly the figure of Mr. Merton on the cliff above, surrounded by a number of men carrying torches; and he was waving a handkerchief to them to encourage their exertions. Then two men descended; one bore a torch; and the other, as soon as he reached the ascending party, took Agnes in his arms, and Mrs. Merton had soon the happiness of seeing her darling child safe by her father’s side. Mrs. Merton now felt new strength, and in a short time she reached the summit of the cliff herself. The men who were assembled round Mr. Merton waited a moment to see she was safe, and then hurried down the rocks to bring up the body of the young Londoner—the rapidity of their descent being marked by their torches, which appeared to slide down the different cliffs. The Mertons did not stay to witness the result of their labours, but hastened to the inn; and when Mrs. Merton and Agnes offered up their evening prayers, they did not forget to add a fervent thanksgiving for the mercy that had saved them from a dreadful catastrophe similar to that they had beheld. CHAPTER VI. Management in Household affairs.—Undercliffe.—Alexandrian Pillar.—Light-house of St. Catherine.—Little Church of St. Lawrence.—Churchyard.—St. Lawrence’s Well.—Ventnor.—Wishing Well, and Godshill.—Beautiful Butterflies.—Pulpit Stone.—St. Boniface.—Arrival at Shanklin.