I looked into the gulf, but the depth and the gloom allowed me to see
nothing with distinctness. His cries or groans could not be overheard
amidst the uproar of the waters. His fall must have instantly destroyed
him, and that he had fallen was the only conclusion I could draw.

My sensations on this incident cannot be easily described. The image of
this man's despair, and of the sudden catastrophe to which my
inauspicious interference had led, filled me with compunction and
terror. Some of my fears were relieved by the new conjecture, that,
behind the rock on which he had lain, there might be some aperture or
pit into which he had descended, or in which he might be concealed.

I derived consolation from this conjecture. Not only the evil which I
dreaded might not have happened, but some alleviation of his misery was
possible. Could I arrest his footsteps and win his attention, I might be
able to insinuate the lessons of fortitude; but if words were impotent,
and arguments were nugatory, yet to sit by him in silence, to moisten
his hand with tears, to sigh in unison, to offer him the spectacle of
sympathy, the solace of believing that his demerits were not estimated
by so rigid a standard by others as by himself, that one at least among
his fellow-men regarded him with love and pity, could not fail to be of
benign influence.

These thoughts inspired me with new zeal. To effect my purpose it was
requisite to reach the opposite steep. I was now convinced that this was
not an impracticable undertaking, since Clithero had already performed
it. I once more made the circuit of the hill. Every side was steep and
of enormous height, and the gulf was nowhere so narrow as at this spot.
I therefore returned hither, and once more pondered on the means of
passing this tremendous chasm in safety.