“While in the Isle of Wight, I visited a cave in the side of an immensely high cliff. This cave is called the Hermit’s Hole. The only road to it is along a narrow path leading from the top of the cliff. This path is steep and narrow, and the descent is somewhat dangerous, as a slip would inevitably precipitate a person down the cliff, a height of about seven hundred feet, into the sea which roars below. Travellers in the Isle of Wight speak in strange terms of this cave. One says ‘the mere thought of such an adventure (that of visiting the cave) is enough to shake the strongest nerves;’ and he recommends no one to venture, as ‘the path is so narrow that it is impossible to turn round, consequently a person who should set out must go all the way.’ I believe I am naturally cowardly. I have, however, I hope educated myself to face danger as well as most men. I therefore feel a pleasure and an interest in voluntarily putting my courage to the test, and I am proud when I find I can do that which other people pronounce to be difficult. Arthur would not venture to the edge of the cliff; but, after taking off my coat, I proceeded down the path, followed by Frederic. At first the path is protected by a projecting rock, which forms a kind of breastwork on the sea side, but after a few yards there is no protection whatever. I found the path better than I had expected; but it is very steep and narrow, and, besides slanting in length towards the cave, has a side slant towards the sea. There were several loose stones upon it, which made the danger so much the greater; some of these upon the least touch fell into the sea. It was with some difficulty I overcame an involuntary feeling of the necessity of leaping after them. The cave has nothing in itself to repay the danger of reaching it: the whole pleasure, indeed, consists in the danger overcome. Notwithstanding the accounts given by travellers, I turned back two or three times to see for Frederic. He ventured the greater part of the way; but when he came to a place where the path turned round a projecting part of the cliff, his courage failed him, and he hurried back. I must confess, however, that he accomplished more than I could have done at his age. I think the path was about twenty yards in length.” CHAPTER VII.