“No, no--stay you here and attend to Miss Wardour--you see Sir Arthur is quite exhausted.” “Stay yoursell then, and I’ll gae,” said the old man;--“let death spare the green corn and take the ripe.” “Stay both of you, I charge you,” said Isabella, faintly; “I am well, and can spend the night very well here--I feel quite refreshed.” So saying, her voice failed her--she sunk down, and would have fallen from the crag, had she not been supported by Lovel and Ochiltree, who placed her in a posture half sitting, half reclining, beside her father, who, exhausted by fatigue of body and mind so extreme and unusual, had already sat down on a stone in a sort of stupor. “It is impossible to leave them,” said Lovel--“What is to be done?--Hark! hark!--did I not hear a halloo?” “The skreigh of a Tammie Norie,” answered Ochiltree--“I ken the skirl weel.” “No, by Heaven!” replied Lovel, “it was a human voice.” A distant hail was repeated, the sound plainly distinguishable among the various elemental noises, and the clang of the sea-mews by which they were surrounded. The mendicant and Lovel exerted their voices in a loud halloo, the former waving Miss Wardour’s handkerchief on the end of his staff to make them conspicuous from above. Though the shouts were repeated, it was some time before they were in exact response to their own, leaving the unfortunate sufferers uncertain whether, in the darkening twilight and increasing storm, they had made the persons who apparently were traversing the verge of the precipice to bring them assistance, sensible of the place in which they had found refuge. At length their halloo was regularly and distinctly answered, and their courage confirmed, by the assurance that they were within hearing, if not within reach, of friendly assistance. CHAPTER EIGHTH. There is a cliff, whose high and bending head Looks fearfully on the confined deep; Bring me but to the very brim of it, And I’ll repair the misery thou dost bear. King Lear. The shout of human voices from above was soon augmented, and the gleam of torches mingled with those lights of evening which still remained amidst the darkness of the storm. Some attempt was made to hold communication between the assistants above and the sufferers beneath, who were still clinging to their precarious place of safety; but the howling of the tempest limited their intercourse to cries as inarticulate as those of the winged denizens of the crag, which shrieked in chorus, alarmed by the reiterated sound of human voices, where they had seldom been heard.