How strangely came the thought to my mind, that all the peril I once incurred to reach France, the hoped-for, wished-for land, I should again brave to escape from its shores! Every dream of boyish ambition dissipated, every high hope flown, I was returning to my country as poor and humble as I left it, but with a heart shorn of all the enthusiasm that gave life its coloring. In what way I could shape my future career I was not able even to guess; a vague leaning to some of England's distant colonies, some new world beyond the seas, being all my imagination could frame of my destiny. A sudden flash of light, illuminating the whole interior of the tower, startled me from my musings, while the sailor called out,-- “Come, wake up, friend! The cutter is standing in close, and a signal to make haste flying from her mast.” I sprang to my legs, and looked out. The sea was all freckled with the moonlight, and the little craft shone like silver, as the bright beams glanced on her white sails. The tall cliffs alone preserved their gloom, and threw a dark and frowning shadow over the waves beneath them. “I can see nothing close to shore,” said I, pointing to the dark rocks beneath the window. “Thou'lt have the moon presently; she's rising above the crest of the hill, and then the cliffs are clear as at noonday. So, make haste! strap on that knapsack on your shoulder; high up, mind; and give thine arms full play,--that's it. Now fasten thy shoes over all; thou wert not about to wear them, surely?” said he in a tone almost derisive. “Take care, in keeping from the face of the rock, not to sway the rope; it wears the cordage. And, above all, mind well when thou reachest the cliff below; let not thy hold go before thou hast well felt thy footing. See, the moon is up already!” As he spoke, a vast sheet of yellow light seemed to creep over the whole face of the precipice, displaying every crag and projection, and making every spot of verdure or rock brilliant in color; while, many a fathom down below, the heavy waves were seen,--now rising in all their majestic swell, now pouring back in their thousand cataracts from every fissure in the precipice. So terribly distinct did each object show, so dreadfully was each distance marked, I felt that all its former gloom and darkness were not one half so thrilling as that moonlight splendor. “La bonne Marie guard thee now!” said the old seaman, as he wrung my hand in his strong fingers. “Be steady and cool of head, and there is no danger; and look not downwards till thou hast got accustomed to the cliff.”