Cecil shook his head.
"It is an illusion," he said. "The sound comes from the air-hole there. We are forty yards from the cliff still."
They crept on, until at last, after a turn in the gallery, they saw a faint glimmering of light. A few more yards and they came to a standstill.
"The entrance is boarded up, you see," Cecil said, "but you can see through the chinks. There is the sea just below, and the rope ladder used to hang from these staples."
She looked out. Sheer below was the sea, breaking upon the rocks and sending a torrent of spray into the air with every wave.
"We can't get out this way, then?" she asked.
He shook his head.
"No, we should want a rope ladder," he said, "and a boat. Have you seen enough?"
"More than enough," Jeanne answered. "Let us get back."