“There is one at Corntown and another at Penillian Sands; but sometimes before a life-boat can be fetched a ship has gone to pieces.”
“And all the people drowned?”
“Yes. Come below here,” said Will, leading the way down the cliff.
“Is—is it safe?” said Dick.
“I will not take you where there’s any danger,” said Will.
Dick hesitated for a few moments, and then followed his companion down a path cut in a rift of the rock where a tiny stream trickled down from far inland.
The mouth of the rift was protected by a pile of rocks, against which the wind beat and the waves thundered, but the path was so sheltered that the lads were able to get nearly down to the shore.
“There are lots of paths like this down the cliff all about the coast,” said Will quietly. “They are useful for men to get down to their boats in bad weather.”
He pointed to one that was drawn right up on rollers twenty feet above the waves and snugly sheltered from the storm.
“There,” said Will the next minute, as he stood holding on behind a rock, with Dick by his side. “We’re safe enough here; the wind goes by us, you see, and the waves don’t bite here. Now, what do you think of that?”