“Is no way out now: it’s either stopped up or watched.”
“Well, then, we’ll get out by the mouth of the smugglers’ cave, and creep up on to the cliffs somewhere.”
“Current would wash us away; and if we could get to the cliffs you know we shouldn’t be able to climb up. We’re not flies.”
“Who said we were? Well, you are a cheerful sort of fellow to be with!”
“I don’t want to be miserable, Cinder, old chap, but it does seem as if we’re in a hole now.”
“Seem? Why we are in a hole, and a good long one too,” said Vince, laughing softly.
“Ah, I can’t see anything to joke about. It’s awful—awful! Cinder, we shall never see home again.”
“Bah! A deal you know about it, Ladle. That French chap daren’t shoot us or drown us. He knows he’d be hung if he did.”
“And what good would it do us after he had killed us, if he was hung? I shouldn’t mind.”
“Well, you are a cheerful old Ladle!” said Vince. “Why don’t you cheer up and make it pleasanter for me?”