"Ah, those daring expeditions suit your taste, Cornelia!" said Alice, with a shudder; "You, like Louis, love _to ride in the whirlwind and direct the storm_! I can never forget his absence one whole night during a frightful tempest, when we did not know but that each horrid blast we listened to, was that which was sinking him to a watery grave. My terrors cost me a fit of illness,--and then my uncle made him see the cruelty, and even wickedness, of being rashly brave; for ever since, he has been careful not to put himself in any needless danger." Ferdinand sighed heavily, as both sisters separately spoke. He felt a sense of feebleness in his own character, which made him envy the enterprising spirit of Louis. "Here," murmured he to himself, "is indeed the fire of youth, the animating principle of future greatness; while that which burns in my veins, withers my very vitals, and consumes every nobler element within me. Wretch that I am,--reprobate, and accursed!" His lips moved almost audibly, as his accusing spirit uttered the last words; and unconsciously turning from the sisters, he walked hastily down the hill towards the cliff. Cornelia and Alice gazed, on each other, astonished; "That is very odd!" cried the latter, "Did you observe his countenance?" "Yes, he suddenly knit his brows; and I thought looked quite strange!" "Let us follow him," rejoined Alice, "if he go on at that rate, and not being aware, he may slip down some of the fissures into the sea." Alice hastened forward as she spoke; and not merely walking, but running, joined him as he had gained the top of the cliff. Cornelia came up soon after; and seeking to divert Ferdinand from whatever painful thoughts possessed him, she uttered the first idea that presented itself, and exclaimed as she approached, "You two stand there, your garments waving in the breeze, like Adam and the angel overlooking the earth and its waters." "To me," answered Ferdinand, "it might well be called the hill of paradise; if you and your sweet Alice, would indeed be to me what the sister-angels were to the erring father of mankind!" Alice looked from him to her sister, with a tender pity that did not escape its object. Again he found a balmy warmth encircle his heart. The freezing hand of despair, which a moment before had obliterated all other impressions, was again withdrawn. "Have I," said he to himself, "indeed interested this innocent creature? I, so unworthy, so self-despised!" He drew towards her, as she followed Cornelia, who turned through some broken craggs, and crossing a ravine, brought them forth on a ridge that faced the west. At their feet lay the strait which divides the two shores. The tide was retreating, and rapidly discovering the sands and sunken rocks which form the foundation of the stupendous cliff on which stand the towers of Bamborough.