Crown and Sceptre Part 12

"The sea. Didn't think it was the end of your pa.s.sage, did you?"

"What there? Nonsense!"

"Yes, it's the cave; and the sea runs right up here."

"It couldn't; it's too far away."

"I don't care; that's the sea. Now listen again, how regularly it comes. Every wave must be rushing in, and you can hear it go whishing out."

Scarlett and his companion listened for a few minutes.

"Yes; it's the sea, sure enough," said Scarlett. "Why, Fred, I didn't think we had such a place here."

"No," said Fred. "But, then, n.o.body ever comes up here. Why, it's quite a discovery, Scar. Let's get down to the sh.o.r.e, and go in."

"Yes, I'm ready;" and together the two lads made their way to the edge of the slaty cliffs, and then a long way by the edge, before they could find a rift of a sufficient slope to warrant their attempting a descent.

Even this selected path looked far more easy than it proved; but by the exercise of a little care they got about half-way down, and then stopped; for it was plain enough to see, from the point of vantage they had gained, that even if they climbed to the narrow line of black slaty shingle between them and the perpendicular rock, they could not reach the face of the Rill Head, which projected, promontory-like, into the sea, and low down in which for certain the cave must be.

"What a bother!" exclaimed Fred. "I thought we were going to have a fine bit of adventure, and discover seals, and lobsters, and crabs, and all kinds of things. What shall we do?"

"Wait till low water."

"But it's nearly low water now. Can't you see?"

The marks of the last tide were plainly visible high up on the rugged rock-face, the last tide having left every ledge covered with washed-up fucus and bladder-wrack, speckled with white sh.e.l.ls and sandy patches.

"Then it must always be deep in water?" said Scarlett.

"Well, I tell you what, then, let's borrow somebody's boat and try and get right in that way."

"I don't know who somebody is," said Scarlett, drily; "and if I did, I don't suppose he has got a boat."

"Don't talk like that," cried Fred. "I say, couldn't we get a boat?"

"There isn't one for miles. Old Porlett bought one--don't you recollect?--and the sea knocked it all to pieces in the first storm."

"Yes, I recollect," said Fred, thoughtfully, "though it was twenty feet up on a broad shelf of rock. Shall we swim to the cave?"

Scarlett shook his head. "No," he said. "It would be too risky."

"What shall we do, then?"

"Give it up."

"And I just won't," cried Fred, emphatically. "I say, Scar, look here."

"Well?"

"If we can't get in one way, let's get in the other."

Scarlett stared at him wonderingly, "Let's go down the same way that you were going, only not in such a hurry," he added with a grin.

"What, climb down the hole?" said Scarlett, thoughtfully, and ignoring the smile. "Yes. Why not?"

"Oh yes, we could, with a rope. Drive an iron bar down into the earth, and tie one end of the rope to it, and then go down."

"You would not dare to go down that way."

"Yes, I would," said Fred, stoutly; "and so would you," he added.

"I don't know," said Scarlett, dreamily. "But I do. Shall we do it?

I'm ready if you are. Come along, then, back to our place, and let's make old Samson lend us a couple of good ropes."

Scarlett nodded acquiescence, and the two lads, little thinking how their act would be of importance in the future, re-climbed the cliff and started toward the Manor at a run.

It proved very easy to propose getting a rope, but much harder to get one, for everything in the shape of hempen cord was under the care of Samson Dee, who had to be found, not at all a difficult task, for he was digging--at least, handling a spade--down the garden.

Samson greeted the coming of the lads with a smile, for it was another excuse for taking a foot from the ground, and resting it upon the spade.

But as soon as he heard the want, the smile faded from his face. "You want a what?" he said. "You know what I said, Samson, so no nonsense.

Let us have one directly."

"You want a rope, Master Fred?"

"There, I told you that you did hear me. Yes; I want the longest rope about the place directly."

"What yer want it for?"

"Never you mind. I tell you I want the rope."

"To make a swing with, of course. Well, then, you can't have it."

"Can't I?" said Fred, sharply. "We'll soon see about that. Come along, Scar. Any one would think the ropes were his."

"Look here, Master Fred, if you--"

Samson ceased speaking, for he was wise enough to see that he was wasting words in shouting after the two lads. But he began muttering directly about a "pa.s.sell o' boys" coming and bothering him when he hadn't a moment to spare.

"And look here," he shouted, as he saw his visitors trotting off with a coil of strong new rope belonging to the waggon, "mind you bring that rope back again. Now, I wonder what them two are going to do?" he ended by muttering, and then set to work digging once more, but in so slow and methodical a fashion that the worms had plenty of time to get away from the sharp edge of the spade before it was driven home and cut them in half.

"Poor old Samson!" said Fred; "he seems to think that everything belongs to him."

"So does our Nat," replied Scarlett. "I often fancy he thinks I belong to him as well, from the way he shouts and orders me about."

"But you never do what he tells you."

"Of course not; and--Oh, Fred!"