A Capillary Crime, and Other Stories — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
A Capillary Crime, and Other Stories
John Stuart Mill · en
While dreaming over the beauty of the scene before me, I suddenly caught
sight out of the very corner of my eye, as it were, of a crevice in the
ledge beside me, almost hidden by the grass which grew tall against the
rock. Hastily tearing the grass away with my right hand, I found that
this cleft, which was only a couple of inches wide at the most,
continued downward along the face of the cliff in a slanting direction,
rapidly diminishing in width until it lost itself or became a simple
crack in the rock. With my knife and fingers I dug the cleft out clean,
as far in as I could reach, expecting to find an iron rod or a spike or
something to which a rope could be fastened. But I was again
disappointed, for there were no signs of iron and no visible marks of
man’s handiwork. Whether this was an artificial excavation in the rock,
or merely an accidental irregularity, I could not determine, but it made
a perfect hold for the hand, like an inverted draw-pull. The moment I
discovered this I saw how the descent could easily be accomplished, and
without stopping to reflect I clutched my right hand firmly in the cleft
and swung off the cliff. My feet struck a pile of loose stones, but I
soon kicked them off, made a solid foothold for myself, and then
cautiously turned around. The wall of rock pitched backward sufficiently
for me to lean up against it, with my face to the sea, and stand there
perfectly secure. When I turned again and stood facing the rock, my head
was above the edge of the cliff so that I could overlook quite an area
of the hilltop. Before attempting to descend the cliff I thought it
prudent to test my ability to reach the turf again. Seizing the cleft
with the fingers of my right hand, and clutching the irregularities of
the edge of the rock with my left, I easily swung myself upon my chest,
and then upon my knees, and stood on the turf. Elated now by my success,
I let myself over the edge again, and began the difficult task of
picking my way down the face of the cliff. By diligently kicking and
pushing the rubble from the bench I was on, I slowly made my way along,
steadying myself as well as I could by putting my fingers in the
crevices of the rock. In two places I found three or four holes, which
had the appearance of having been artificially made, and by the aid of
these I let myself down to the second and third projecting benches. From
this point the descent was made without much difficulty, although I
carefully refrained from casting my eyes seaward during the whole climb.
Fortunately I was on the face of the cliff, which was at a receding
angle, and consequently was not swept by the telescope of the guard on
the beach to the right, and I finished the descent and reached a point
to the left of the mouth of the cave, and on a level with it, without
any interruption. I was too much fatigued to care to risk discovery by
the guard in entering the cave, which was in full sight of his station;