ssed over,
and no prospect of escape appeared. The life of inactivity gradually
depressed my spirits, and I fell into a low and moping condition, in
which my hours rolled over without thought or notice. Still, I returned
each day to my accustomed spot, a lofty peak of rock that stood over the
sea, and from which the view extended for miles on every side. There,
half hid in the wild heath, I used to lie for hours long, my eyes bent
upon the sea, but my thoughts wandering away to a past that never was to
be renewed, and a future I was never destined to experience.

Although late in the autumn, the season was mild and genial, and the
sea calm and waveless, save along the shore, where, even in the stillest
weather, the great breakers came tumbling in with a force independent of
storm; and, listening to their booming thunder, I have dreamed away
hour after hour unconsciously. It was one day, as I lay thus, that my
attention was caught by the sight of three large vessels on the very
verge of the horizon. Habit had now given me a certain acuteness, and I
could perceive from their height and size that they were ships of war.
For a while they seemed as if steering for the entrance of the lough,
but afterwards they changed their course, and headed towards the west.
At length they separated, and one of smaller size, and probably a
frigate from her speed, shot forward beyond the rest, and, in less
than half an hour, disappeared from view. The other two gradually
sank beneath the horizon, and not a sail was to be seen over the
wide expanse. While speculating on what errand the squadron might be
employed, I thought I could hear the deep and rolling sound of distant
cannonading. My ear was too practised in the thundering crash of the
breakers along shore to confound the noises; and as I listened I fancied
that I could distinguish the sound of single guns from the louder roar
of a whole broadside. This could not mean saluting, nor was it likely
to be a mere exercise of the fleet. They were not times when much powder
was expended un-profitably. Was it then an engagement? But with what or
whom? Tandy's expedition, as it was called, had long since sailed, and
must ere this have been captured or safe in France. I tried a hundred
conjectures to explain the mystery, which now, from the long continuance
of the sounds, seemed to denote a desperately contested engagement. It
was not till after three hours that the cannonading ceased, and then I