slowly
climbed the other side, while high overhead, to turn the duet into a
trio, there was another whistler in the shape of a speckled lark,
soaring round and round as if he were describing the figure of a
gigantic corkscrew, whose point was intended to pierce the clouds.

There had been a shower earlier in the day, and the earth sent forth a
sweet fragrance, which mingled with the soft salt breeze, and sent a
thrill of pleasure through the frames of the two lads hastening to their
trysting-place. They did not know that their feet crushed the wild
thyme, or caused fresh odours to float upon the air, or whether the
breeze came from north, south, or west; all that they knew was that they
felt very happy, and that they were out on the moor, ready to enjoy
themselves by doing something, they knew not what. They did not even
know that they were each performing a part in a trio, the little lark
being so common an object as to be unnoticed, while the top of the hill
divided the two terrestrial whistlers from each other.

Fred was at the highest point first, and throwing himself down on the
turf, he lay watching the coming figure toiling up, while the
grasshoppers _chizzed_ and leaped from strand of grass to harebell, and
thence to heather, and even on to the figure lying there.

The view was grand. Away to right were the undulations of the moor; to
the left the high hills which seemed as if cut off short, and descended
almost perpendicularly to the sea, and in front of them the sea itself,
glistening in the sunshine beyond the cliff, which from the point where
Fred lay looked like a lion _couchant_, end on to him, and passing out
to sea. Here and there some boat's sail seemed like a speck upon the
sea, while going in different directions--seaward and toward Bristol
were a couple of what Fred mentally dubbed "king's ships." Away as far
as eye could reach to right and left lay the softly blue Welsh coast;
but Fred's attention was divided between the lion's head-like outline of
the Rill, and the slowly advancing figure of Scarlett Markham, who
finished his ascent by breaking into a trot, and zigzagging up the last
steep piece to throw himself down beside his friend.

They lay for some few minutes enjoying themselves, their ideas of
enjoyment consisting in lying face downward resting upon their crossed
arms, which formed a pillow for their chins, and kicking the turf with
their toes. Then, as if moved by the same spirit