The words seemed more and more the words of truth as the midshipman listened, and he was compelled to own in his own mind that he had failed in his attempt; but a question seemed to leap from his lips next moment, and he said sharply,—
“Perhaps there’s no getting down, but any one might climb up right to the top of the cliff.”
“Fly might, or a beedle,” said the boy, laughing. “Why, a rabbit couldn’t, and I’ve seen them do some rum things, cutting up the rocks where they’ve been straight up like a wall. Why, it comes right over up nigh the top. No, father’s right; place is safe enough from the seaside, and so it is from the land. Now, then, let’s go back.”
“You can go,” said Archy coldly. “I’m going to stop here.”
“That you won’t,” said Ram sharply. “You’re a-coming up with me. Yah! What’s the good o’ being obstinate? We don’t want to have another fight. Don’t you see you can’t get away?”
“I will get away,” said Archy sternly.
“Well, you won’t get off this way, till your wings grow,” said Ram, laughing. “Come on, mate, let’s get back.”
Archy hesitated, but was obliged to come to the conclusion that he was beaten this time, and he turned slowly to his companion and said,—
“Can you climb that rope?”
“Can I climb that rope? I should think I can!”