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Edgar Huntley - or, Memoirs of a Sleep-Walker by Charles Brockden Brown
page 108 of 322 (33%)
ascend. On one side I seemed still upon the verge of a precipice, and on
the other all was empty and waste. I had gone no inconsiderable
distance, and persuaded myself that my career would speedily terminate.
In a short time, the space on the left hand was again occupied, and I
cautiously proceeded between the edge of the gulf and a rugged wall. As
the space between them widened I adhered to the wall.

I was not insensible that my path became more intricate and more
difficult to retread in proportion as I advanced. I endeavoured to
preserve a vivid conception of the way which I had already passed, and
to keep the images of the left and right-hand wall, and the gulf, in due
succession in my memory.

The path, which had hitherto been considerably smooth, now became rugged
and steep. Chilling damps, the secret trepidation which attended me, the
length and difficulties of my way, enhanced by the ceaseless caution and
the numerous expedients which the utter darkness obliged me to employ,
began to overpower my strength. I was frequently compelled to stop and
recruit myself by rest. These respites from toil were of use, but they
could not enable me to prosecute an endless journey, and to return was
scarcely a less arduous task than to proceed.

I looked anxiously forward, in the hope of being comforted by some dim
ray, which might assure me that my labours were approaching an end. At
last this propitious token appeared, and I issued forth into a kind of
chamber, one side of which was open to the air and allowed me to catch a
portion of the checkered sky. This spectacle never before excited such
exquisite sensations in my bosom. The air, likewise, breathed into the
cavern, was unspeakably delicious.

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