In vain they tried to reason with him; begged his pardon for all past jests: he made effort after effort to get up; and at last, his limbs, regaining strength by the fierceness of his passion, supported him; and he struggled onward toward the northern slope of the mountain.
"You must not go down till it is light; it is as much as your life is worth."
"I am going to Bangor, sir; and go I will!"
"I tell you, there is fifteen hundred feet of slippery screes below you."
"As steep as a house-roof, and with every tile on it loose. You will roll from top to bottom before you have gone a hundred yards."
"What care I? Let me go, I say! Curse you, sir! Do you mean to use force?"
"I do," said Wynd quietly, as he took him round arms and body, and set him down on the rock like a child.
"You have assaulted me, sir! The law shall avenge this insult, if there be law in England!"
"I know nothing about law: but I suppose it will justify me in saving any man's life who is rushing to certain death."
"Look here, sir!" said Naylor. "Go down, if you will, when it grows light: but from this place you do not stir yet. Whatever you may think of our conduct to-night, you will thank us for it to-morrow morning, when you see where you are."