I tried to move about, but I
dared not go far, for fear of the precipices which, I knew, abounded in
certain places on the Fells. Now and then, I stood still and shouted
again; but my voice was getting choked with tears, as I thought of the
desolate helpless death I was to die, and how little they at home,
sitting round the warm, red, bright fire, wotted what was become of
me,--and how my poor father would grieve for me--it would surely kill
him--it would break his heart, poor old man! Aunt Fanny too--was this to
be the end of all her cares for me? I began to review my life in a
strange kind of vivid dream, in which the various scenes of my few boyish
years passed before me like visions. In a pang of agony, caused by such
remembrance of my short life, I gathered up my strength and called out
once more, a long, despairing, wailing cry, to which I had no hope of
obtaining any answer, save from the echoes around, dulled as the sound
might be by the thickened air. To my surprise I heard a cry--almost as
long, as wild as mine--so wild that it seemed unearthly, and I almost
thought it must be the voice of some of the mocking spirits of the Fells,
about whom I had heard so many tales.
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