a likely way. I remembered that the cliff hereabouts was of no great
height and scalable in a score of places. Very cautiously, and
sometimes sitting and straddling the ridge while my fingers sought a
new grip, I mounted to the edge of a heathery down; and there, after
pricking myself sorely among the furze-bushes that guarded it, found
a passage through and cast myself at full length on the short turf.

For a while I lay and panted, flat on my back, staring up at the
stars: for the wind had chopped about and was now drawing gently off
shore, clearing the sky. But, though gentle, it had an edge of chill
which by and by brought me to my feet again. Far out on the dark
waters of the Sound glimmered the starboard light of the _Glad
Tidings_, and it seemed to me that she was heading in for shore.
Had the Pengellys too discovered that the boat was not the
water-guard's? And was O.P. working the ketch back to give me a
chance of rejoining her? Else why was she not slackening sheets and
running? Vain hope! I suppose that the new slant of wind took some
time in reaching her; for, just as I was preparing to creep back
between the furze-whins and scramble down to the foreshore again, the
green light was quenched. She had altered her helm and was clearing
the Sound.

I dared not hail her. Indeed, had I risked it, the odds were against
my voice carrying so far, to be recognised. And while I stood and
searched the darkness into which she had disappeared, my ear caught
again the muffled tramp of the soldiers, this time advancing towards
me. I waited no longer, but started running for dear life up the
shoulder of the down.

The swim and the chill breeze had numbed my legs and arms. After a
few hundred yards, however, I felt life coming back to them, and I
ran like a hare. I was stark naked, and here and there my feet
struck a heather root pushed above the turf, or wounded themselves on
low-lying sprouts of furze; but as my eyes grew used to the dark
sward I learned to avoid these. So close the night hung around me
that even on the sky-line I had no fear of being spied. I crossed
the ridge and tore down the farther slope; stumbled through a muddy
brook and mounted another hillside. My heart was drumming now, but
terror held me to it--over this second ridge and downhill again.

I supposed myself but half-way down this slope, or only a little
more, when in springing aside to avoid a low bush I missed footing
altoget