I had fasten’d the horses by the gate, and was ready to join in the work, when a shout was rais’d—
“Billy!—Where’s Billy Pottery? Has any seen the skipper?”
“Sure,” I call’d, “you don’t say he was never alarm’d!”
“Black Sampson was in his room—where’s Black Sampson?”
“Here I be!” cried a voice. “To be sure I woke the skipper before any o’ ye.”
“Then where’s he hid? Did any see him come out?”
“Now, that we have not!” answer’d one or two.
I stood by the house door shouting these questions to the men inside, when a hand was laid on my arm, and there in the shadow waited Billy himself, with a mighty curious twinkle in his eye. He put a finger up and signed that I should follow.
We pass’d round the outbuildings where, three hours before, Matt Soames and I had hid together. I was minded to stop and pull on my boots, that were hid here: but (and this was afterward the saving of me) on second thoughts let them lie, and follow’d Billy, who now led me out by the postern gate.
Without speech we stepp’d across the turf, he a pace or two ahead. A night breeze was blowing here, delicious after the heat of the fire. We were walking quickly toward the east side of the headland, and soon the blaze behind flung our shadows right to the cliff’s edge, for which Billy made straight, as if to fling himself over.
But when, at the very verge, he pull’d up, I became enlighten’d. At our feet was an iron bar driven into the soil, and to it a stout rope knotted, that ran over a block and disappeared down the cliff. I knelt and, pulling at it softly, look’d up. It came easy in the hand.
Billy, with the glare in his face, nodded: and bending to my ear, for once achiev’d a whisper.
“Saw one stealing hither—an’ follow’d. A man wi’ a limp foot—went over the side like a cat.”
I must have appeared to doubt this good fortune, for he added—
“ ’Be a truth speakin’ man i’ the main, Jack—’lay over ’pon my belly, and spied a ledge—fifty feet down or less—’reckon there be a way thence to the foot. Dear, now! what a rampin’, tearin’ sweat is this?”
For, fast as I could tug, I was hauling up the rope. Near sixty feet came up before I reach’d the end—a thick twisted knot. I rove a long noose; pull’d it over my head and shoulders, and made Billy understand he was to lower me.
“Sit i’ the noose, lad, an’ hold round the knot. For sign to hoist again, tug the rope hard. I can hold.”
He paid it out carefully while I stepp’d to the edge. With the noose about my loins I thrust myself gently over, and in a trice hung swaying.
On three sides the sky compass’d me—wild and red, save where to eastward the dawn was paling: on the fourth the dark rocky face seem’d gliding upward as Billy lower’d. Far below I heard the wash of the sea, and could just spy the white spume of it glimmering. It stole some of the heart out of me, and I took my eyes off it.
Some feet below the top, the cliff fetch’d a slant inward, so that I dangled a full three feet out from the face. As a boy I had adventured something of this sort on the north sides of Gable and the Pillar, and once (after a nest of eaglets) on the Mickledore cliffs: but then ’twas daylight. Now, though I saw the ledge under me, about a third of the way down, it look’d, in the darkness, to be so extremely narrow, that ’tis probable I should have call’d out to Billy to draw me up but for the certainty that he would never hear: so instead I held very tight and wish’d it over.
Down I sway’d (Billy letting out the rope very steady), and at last swung myself inward to the ledge, gain’d a footing, and took a glance round before slipping off the rope.
I stood on a shelf of sandy rock that wound round the cliff some way to my left, and then, as I thought, broke sharply away. ’Twas mainly about a yard in width, but in places no more than two feet. In the growing light I noted the face of the headland ribb’d with several of these ledges, of varying length, but all hollow’d away underneath (as I suppose by the sea in former ages), so that the cliff’s summit overhung the base by a great way: and peering over I saw the waves creeping right beneath me.
Now all this while I had not let Master Tingcomb out of my mind. So I slipp’d off the rope and left it to dangle, while I crept forward to explore, keeping well against the rock and planting my feet with great caution.
I believe I was twenty minutes taking as many steps, when at the point where the ledge broke off I saw the ends of an iron ladder sticking up, and close beside it a great hole in the rock, which till now the curve of the cliff had hid. The ladder no doubt stood on a second shelf below.
I was pausing to consider this, when a bright ray stream’d across the sea toward me, and the
