“Try back, then. You light me and I’ll lead.”
They slid down to the bottom of the slope and stopped.
“I say,” cried the midshipman; “you’ll have to take me to your place and find me some clothes, for I shan’t have a rag on if we’re going to do much of this sort of thing.”
“This must be right,” said Aleck, without heeding the remark. “I can shut my eyes here and be sure of it by the feel.”
“Then it’s of no use to go down any farther?”
“Not a bit,” said Aleck, firmly. “Look for yourself. Here are the foot nicks at the side, and the floor is all worn smooth. We must be right.”
“Then forward once more. You must have missed something.”
Aleck toiled up the slope again, reached the top, where the crack should have run in a fresh direction and at a different inclination, and carefully examined the place with his light, while his heart began to beat faster and faster from the excitement that was growing upon him rapidly. For as he ran his hands over the rock in front, which completely blocked his way, he noted that there were three great pieces—one which ran right into the angle, where the pathway should have made its turn; a second, which lay between it and the smooth wall at the bend; and another smaller piece, which lay over both, jammed tightly in between the two other stones and the roof, and carrying conviction to Aleck’s mind as he now recalled the peculiar grating sounds he had heard soon after the smuggler left them the previous day.
He was brought out of his musings by his companion, who suddenly exclaimed:
“I say, look here; I’m not a puffin.”