The Argosy — page 65: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

50 The Channel Islands. over-arching, interlacing branches existed not here. No banks of wildflowers, and only now and again a blackberry hedge or two. One piece of colouring we met, but it was sad of tone. We came upon the cemetery just as a military funeral was going on, and the scarlet coats of the soldiers stood out in bright contrast with the surrounding landscape. It was the funeral, if I remember, of a non-commissioned officer, who had slowly died of consumption. He had been a Roman Catholic, and the priests in their robes, and the cross that was elevated, formed an imposing pageant to the eyes of those who had come upon it unawares. The soldiers fired a volley over the grave, and the air was startled with the sharp sound, and then all was over, and everyone departed, and the tenant of the new grave was left to await that great day when at the sound of the last trump we all shall come forth to Judgment. Our one reward for visiting Alderney was its rocky coast. Here and there the cliffs are exceedingly fine, and almost more picturesque than any to be found in the other islands. They are occasionally fantastic in shape, and splendid in their varied colour. There are splendid bits that overhang the shore, and tall cliffs that are perpen- dicular. So much so that we could not get down to the white, enticing beach below, and this was tantalising. One longed to reach the bottom and look upwards at these eternal monuments of nature ; it was impossible to appreciate them properly without doing so; but it would have been more easy to scale a house. To take a boat and go round was equally impossible. The sea was raging; the sky was dark and lowering; a strong, cold wind searched out one’s very bones; and every now and then showers came down with a strength that defied anything in the shape of an umbrella. This was very much against us and against the island. In summer weather and under sunny skies, there is quite enough to re- pay one in Alderney for a run across from Guernsey, especially as peace and plenty abound at Scott’s Hotel. Butin uncertain seasons, when the days are growing cold and the sun goes down before the afternoon is well over, then to visit Alderney is a mistake. We did not regret it, being of a contented mind, and reading sermons in stones, and books in the running brooks; nevertheless we felt that a sojourn of many days would have proved Alderney a weariness to the flesh. And our stay was destined to be not quite so short as we had anticipated. If the day of our arrival was boisterous, what can be said of the next, when we were to return? If the sea had run hills yesterday, to-day it ran mountains. The steamer from Cherbourg was hours behind time, and everyone prophesied that she would not venture from the shelter of that magnificent harbour. However, about two o'clock in the afternoon, in she struggled, drenched to the skin, if one may apply the term to a boat. She had been buffeted about by the stormy winds and tempests, and was Gomicbooks (e(o) n