to rise.

O'Connor was already astir, preparing breakfast. Cold boiled mussels
and a bit of pork may be good food, but it is not appetising.
Consequently they did not linger long over the meal, but were soon
striding up the mountain-side rejoicing in the fresh air and sunshine.

There was a certain phase in John Mitford's character which had not yet
been discovered by his friends, and was known only to his wife. He was
romantic--powerfully so. To wander through unknown lands and be a
discoverer had been the dream of his youth. He was naturally reticent,
and had never said so to any one but Peggy, who, being the reverse of
romantic, was somewhat awe-stricken by the discovery, and, in an
imbecile way, encouraged him to hope that, "one of these days he'd 'ave
'is desires gratified, as there was nothink to prevent 'im from goin' to
Novazealand--if that was the right way to pronounce it--or to Van Demons
land--not in a sinful way of course, for they had given up transportin'
people there now--though wherever they transported 'em to she couldn't
imagine--anyhow, there was nothink to prevent his tryin'." And John did
try, which was the primary cause of his being a member of the exploring
party now under consideration.

Influenced by his romantic spirit, Mitford betrayed a troublesome
tendency to wander from his comrades in pursuit of the Unknown.
O'Connor, with the straightforward simplicity of his nation, set it down
to pig-headedness. Slag, being a man of feeling, opined that it was
absence of mind.

"The spalpeen! he's off again," said O'Connor, turning round as they
halted to rest a minute, after breasting the hill for half-an-hour.
"Hallo, John! Where are ye, boy?"

"Here--all right," shouted a voice in the distance, "I'm exploring
behind the knoll here. Go ahead; I'll meet ye at the top o' the hill."

By that time they were within about an hour's walk of the highest ridge
of the island, so they pushed on without delay, expecting to find their
lugubrious friend there before them, or not far behind them. It turned
out as had been supposed. The mountain ridge formed the summit of the
great precipice, along the foot of which they had sailed after quitting
the cavern, or, as they had come to call it, the wreck-cave. For some
time the two stood on the giddy edge, looking in silence on the
tremendous depths below, and the sublime spectacle of illimitable sea
beyond, with its myriad facets gleaming in the sunshi