we arrive; we behold the shore--all black, great, vast!.

.

.

rocks like needles, and, higher than all, this most fierce Jedke--bah! what a name!--straight as the spire of a cathedral.
One must be a fly to crawl up it, and we, we are not flies--_ma foi_! no! Lorimer, he laugh, he yawn--so! He say, 'not for me to-day; I very much thank you!' And then, we watch the sun.

Ah! that was grand, glorious, beautiful!" And Duprez kissed the tips of his fingers in ecstacy.
"What did _you_ think about it, Sandy ?" asked Sir Philip.
"I didna think much," responded Macfarlane, shortly.