By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.
SHAKSPEARE
There is nothing in England so variable as its climate. Before the
succeeding night, the very remembrance of the storm seemed to have
passed away from the placid waters, which now slept in the moonbeams as
tranquilly as a cradled child; the sea-bird's scream no longer whistled
through the air, and the small waves murmured their gentle music along
the strand. Nature was hushed and happy; but the tranquillity of
external objects had little effect upon the mind of Burrell, as he
strode to his trysting with the bold Buccaneer. Yet were there no
outward tokens that he apprehended aught from the meeting; for,
excepting the sword, usually borne by persons of all ranks and
professions during the dynasty of Oliver, he was completely unarmed. The
place appointed was appropriately described as "Under the Cavern." It
was known to Dalton's more intimate associates, and the Cavaliers, who
had from time to time obtained security therein; but, if its bare, bleak
walls had been gifted with speech, they might have rehearsed such tales
of rapine and plunder as few writers would venture to record. The
cavern appeared, to those who might wander along the sea-shore, to be
but a deep and natural excavation into a huge rock, the western
extremity of which ran out into the ocean, and therefore compelled the
traveller to ascend a kind of artificial steps, in order to pass to the
other side: the beach was, consequently, but little frequented, as
leading to no necessary point, and as the inhabitants of the adjoining
cottage, with which our readers are already familiar, had taken especial
care to form several paths in various directions from its door, but none
leading down to this part of the neighbouring cliffs, it was but rarely
that the whiteness of the rocks was defaced by any foot save that of the
daring bird from whom it received its name, and by whom it was regarded
as his own natural and undisputed property.
Whether the cavern into which we are about to enter was originally
framed by some freak of Nature, or was the invention and subsequent
accomplishment of art, we are unable to determine. Like many a structure
better formed to endure for ages, it has been long swept away by the
encroachments of the sea, which, since the period we write of, has been
gradually gaining upon the land. Even at the present moment, there are
old men dwelling in the neighbourhood who can remember houses and
corn-fields where now a proud ship may ride at anchor. From time to
time, without the slightest warning, some immense rock falls, and
mingles with the ocean, which soon dashes aside every trace of its
existence, leaving merely a new surface, to vanish in its turn under the
influence of a power, silent and patient, but inevitable and
unconquerable.