“Dark blue and white! why, then, it must be some one in the football eleven: Charlie, it must be Kenrick! Heavens, what can have happened?”
“Kenrick!” they both shouted at the top of their voices.
But the cliff was high, and the wind, momently rising to a blast, swept away their shouts, and although Kenrick might have heard them distinctly under ordinary circumstances, they now only mingled with, and gave new form and body to, the wild madness which terror was beginning to kindle in his brain. So they shouted, and no answer came.
“No answer comes, Charlie; but there’s someone down there as sure as we are here,” said Walter. Charlie had already begun to try and descend the face of the cliff. “Stop, stop, Charlie,” said Walter, seizing him and dragging him up again, “you mustn’t try that—nay, Charlie, you really must not. If it’s possible I will.” He tried, but three minutes showed him that, however practicable a descent might be, an ascent afterwards would be wholly beyond his power. Besides, if he did descend, what could he do? Clearly nothing; and with another plan in view, he with difficulty reached his former position.
“Nothing to be done that way, Charlie.” At that moment another cry came, for Kenrick, in a momentary lull of the wind, had fancied that he had heard sounds and voices other than those of his perturbed and agitated fancy. “Ha! you heard that?” said Walter, and he shouted again, but no sound was returned.
“We must fly to Saint Winifred’s, Charlie; there’s a boy down on the shore beyond a doubt. You stay behind, if you like, for you can’t run as fast as me. I’m afraid, though, it’s not the least good. Saint Winifred’s is three miles from here, and long before I’ve got help and come three miles back, it’s clear that no one can be alive down there; still we must try,” and he was starting when Charlie seized his arm.
“Don’t you remember, Walter, the hut at Bryce’s cove? There’s an old boat there, and it’s a mile and a half nearer than Saint Win’s.”
“Capital boy, Charlie,” said Walter; “how good of you to think of it; it’s the very thing. Come.”
They flew along at full speed, Walter taking Charlie’s hand, and saying, “Never mind stretching your legs for once, even if you are tired. How well you run! we shall be there in no time.”
They gained the cove, flew down the steep narrow path, and reached the hut door. Their summons was answered only by the furious barking of a dog. No one was in.