It was hers already, it did but seek its own.
In daylight I could have gone almost straight to that cleft, steering my course by the sea rocks I had noted from the window.

But in the dark it was different.

I could only grope along in hope, with many a stop to wonder where I had got to, and many a stumble and many a bruise.

Stark darkness is akin to blindness, and blindness in a strange land, and that a land of rocks and chasms, is a vast perplexity.

I wandered blindly and bruised myself sorely, but suffered most from thought of the passing minutes, for the minutes in which I might accomplish anything were numbered, and they passed with no result.
I was half minded to give up search for the cleft, and steal down to the houses and see what I could learn there.