ne gables and tower of Golden Friars and the
light of fire or candle in their windows were dimly visible.

As he stood and looked, his more distant sunset went down, and sudden
twilight was upon him, and he began to remember the beautiful Homeric
picture of a landscape coming out, rock and headland, in the moonlight.

There had hung upon the higher summits, at his right, a heavy fold of
white cloud, which on a sudden broke, and, like the smoke of artillery,
came rolling down the slopes toward him. Its principal volume, however,
unfolded itself in a mighty flood down the side of the mountain towards
the lake; and that which spread towards and soon enveloped the ground on
which he stood was by no means so dense a fog. A thick mist enough it
was; but still, to a distance of twenty or thirty yards, he could
discern the outline of a rock or scaur, but not beyond it.

There are few sensations more intimidating than that of being thus
enveloped on a lonely mountain-side, which, like this one, here and
there breaks into precipice.

There is another sensation, too, which affects the imagination.
Overtaken thus on the solitary expanse, there comes a new chill and
tremour as this treacherous medium surrounds us, through which
unperceived those shapes which fancy conjures up might approach so near
and bar our path.

From the risk of being reduced to an actual standstill he knew he was
exempt. The point from which the wind blew, light as it was, assured him
of that. Still the mist was thick enough seriously to embarrass him. It
had overtaken him as he was looking down upon the lake; and he now
looked to his left, to try whether in that direction it was too thick to
permit a view of the nearest landmarks. Through this white film he saw a
figure standing only about five-and-twenty steps away, looking down, as
it seemed, in precisely the same direction as he, quite motionless, and
standing like a shadow projected upon the smoky vapour. It was the
figure of a slight tall man, with his arm extended, as if pointing to a
remote object, which no mortal eye certainly could discern through the
mist. Sir Bale gazed at this figure, doubtful whether he were in a
waking dream, unable to conjecture whence it had come; and as he looked,
it moved, and was almost instantly out of sight.

He descended the mountain cautiously. The mist was now thinner, and
through the haze he was beginning to see objects more distinctly, and,
without danger, to p