It came, and then another, and
another, till it seemed almost impossible for the little cottage to hold
out against its fury!
Then "Daft Bess" sprang from her seat with a cry of gladness, and ran
out into the night!
Along the path of the cliff she ran as fast as her bare feet would carry
her, struggling and buffeting with the wind and spray till she reached
the "cutting" down to the beach.
It was only a broken track where the rocks sloped and jagged a little,
and not too safe at the best of times. She tried to get a foothold, but
the wind was too strong, and she was driven back again and again. Then
it lulled a little, and she began to descend.
Half-way down there was an ugly turn in the path, and she waited for a
gust to pass before taking it. The wind was stronger than ever out here
on the front of the cliff, but she held tight to the jagged rock
above.
Round it swept, tearing loose bits of rock and soil from every corner,
till her face was cut by the sharpness of the flints!
[Illustration: THE ROCK SHE CLUNG TO GAVE WAY.]
Close against the cliff it blew until she was almost breathless, when
the rock she clung to gave way, and she fell down and down!
* * * * *
Jacob Tressider was awake. He had heard a noise like the breaking of
delf in the kitchen below, and he wondered if Bess had heard it too. He
got out of bed and dressed himself, and then came down the ladder which
did service for a staircase to see what was amiss.
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