CHAPTER XX.
"Thou hadst no fame; that which thou didst like good Was but thy appetite that swayed thy blood For that time to the best; for as a blast That through a house comes, usually doth cast Things out of order, yet by chance may come And blow some one thing to his proper room, So did thy appetite, and not thy zeal, Sway thee by chance to do some one thing well." FLETCHER'S Faithful Shepherdess.
"The noble hart that harbours vertuous thought And is with childe of glorious great intent, Can never rest, until it forth have brought Th' eternall brood of glorie excellent." SPENSER, The Faerie Queene.
I had not gone very far before I felt that the turf beneath my feet was soaked with the rising waters.

But I reached the isthmus in safety.

It was rocky, and so much higher than the level of the peninsula, that I had plenty of time to cross.

I saw on each side of me the water rising rapidly, altogether without wind, or violent motion, or broken waves, but as if a slow strong fire were glowing beneath it.

Ascending a steep acclivity, I found myself at last in an open, rocky country.