“You Dick,” cried Archy, “you’re a goose! There, it will not be safe to land, my lads. Here, you two jump ashore as we back in. Mind, just as the sea’s off the ledge; and run up and have a good look round.”
The boat was turned, backed in, and, seizing the right moment, the men jumped on to the rock just as the water was only ankle-deep, had a good search round, and came back, to be picked up again safely, though the boat was within an ace of being capsized.
But they had seen nothing. There was no boat, and they searched along some distance east, turned back to the ledge and went west, still without elucidation of the mystery; then they went as close under the cliffs as they dared go, in the hope of finding some cavern or passage through the rocks that escaped notice from outside.
All in vain, and, obeying the signal now flying on the cutter, the boat was rowed back.
“Well, Mr Raystoke, where’s the boat?”
“Don’t know, sir. We never got sight of her.”
“Then you must have been asleep,” cried the lieutenant angrily. “There, breakfast, my lads, and be smart.”
After the meal, Gurr was left in the charge of the cutter, while the lieutenant accompanied Archy to search for the high cliff which contained the old quarry, and they rowed east for a couple of miles in vain. But, after pulling back to the starting-point, and making for the other direction, they had not gone four hundred yards under the cliff before the midshipman exclaimed excitedly,—
“There; that’s the place: there!”
“Then why didn’t you say so when we were on deck? You could have seen it there.”