‘Speak one loud word, and the contents of this crash through your scull,’ said the last comer, in a firm calm voice, and our hero felt the cold muzzle of a revolver pressed against his temple, and at the same instant the sharp click announced it was at full cock.
Monteagle had as brave a heart as ever beat in mortal bosom; but here was a dilemma that would have made even Jack Hays pause for reflection.
But little time was given Monteagle for thought.
‘D—n,’ cried one of his captors, impatiently, ‘let’s be moving. We’ve got a long road, and a heavy night’s work before us yet.’
‘By —, you’re right, old hoss,’ said one of them, ‘there’s been fooling enough already.’
So saying, he seized Monteagle by the collar with no gentle grasp.
The latter seeing that resistance would only lead to his being dragged along by main force, if not to his instant death, told them to unbind him, and he would walk peaceably along with them.
‘That’s right, youngster, you’ll save us the price of a couple of bullets, and the trouble of reloading,’ said the fellow with the revolver.
After proceeding alongside the beach for some hundred yards, they clambered up the almost perpendicular face of the cliff, by the assistance of the dwarf trees and jutting rocks. Monteagle being aided by two of the men, who each held one of his arms.
Before gaining the summit of the cliff, one of the party gave a low, peculiar whistle, somewhat like the cry of a curlew. It was immediately responded to and they set out in the direction from whence proceeded what was evidently the pre-concerted signal.