The morning was waning away.  I left the pier, and bent my course away from Landwithiel.

The path I pursued led along the summit of the cliffs; oftentimes winding so close round the edge of a projecting acclivity, that it required a clear head and a steady foot, for one false step would have been instant destruction.  The coast below me was justly entitled to take its place amongst the finest rock-scenery in the island; and exhibited in its grandest form, the peculiarly wild and picturesque nature of the coast of Cornwall.  After working my way against a head-wind for three or four miles, I took shelter in Dawlish’s Watch Tower, an old half-ruined building, which commanded an almost boundless look-out.  Nearly right opposite to this station lay the Wolf-stone, an insular, and almost inaccessible rock, which rose in deep water about three-quarters of a mile from land.  Whilst scanning with my glass the windward horizon, I accidentally rested on this islet, and I had not looked long before my gaze was rivetted to it.  Two individuals I fancied were standing near a pole which was erected on the highest point.  These lone and unusual tenants of the sea-birds’ home were obviously, from their motions, much agitated.  A heavy driving shower, for a few minutes, wrapped it in mist.  When this cleared off, the black and dreary front of the Wolf-stone became dimly visible through the tumultuous assemblage of gigantic breakers, that were every instant grappling with the steep which defied them.  Another minute’s observation and I was running at my utmost speed back to Landwithiel.  The captives could be no other than Sam and Arthur Clovelly.

My arrival caused universal stir and interest in Landwithiel.  The Dasher, the best sea-boat in the harbour was instantly manned, with directions to pull to Carn Cove, almost opposite the rock, whither the rest of the men rapidly proceeded along the heights.  Helston and myself also went thither to consult in the first instance, as to the best plan for relief; for no boat could live, in such a day as this, within some distance of the rock.

The anxious group gathered on the edge of the cliff; and while a white flag was running up a boat’s mast which we had erected on the tower, we cheered loudly and repeatedly to assure the distant captives that aid was nigh.

“It is Sam—­God be praised,” sang out Helston, who was steadily looking out through his glass—­and every one crowded around.  “And is Arthur there too, Charles?”—­“Yes, I see.—­Death!  I thought that wave would sweep over all.  Now they wave their neckcloths—­they beckon us to use haste.  High water is drawing fast on, and what man ever lived on the Wolfstone in a spring flood.  They wave again; sing away there, my lads, cheerily!” and a tumultuous shout of human voices again mingled with the blast.