Fidra is the most particular, being a
strange grey islet of two humps, made the more conspicuous by a
piece of ruin; and I mind that (as we drew closer to it) by some
door or window of these ruins the sea peeped through like a man's
eye. Under the lee of Fidra there is a good anchorage in westerly
winds, and there, from a far way off, we could see the Thistle
riding.
The shore in face of these islets is altogether waste. Here is no
dwelling of man, and scarce any passage, or at most of vagabond
children running at their play. Gillane is a small place on the
far side of the Ness, the folk of Dirleton go to their business in
the inland fields, and those of North Berwick straight to the sea-
fishing from their haven; so that few parts of the coast are
lonelier. But I mind, as we crawled upon our bellies into that
multiplicity of heights and hollows, keeping a bright eye upon all
sides, and our hearts hammering at our ribs, there was such a
shining of the sun and the sea, such a stir of the wind in the bent
grass, and such a bustle of down-popping rabbits and up-flying
gulls, that the desert seemed to me, like a place alive.
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