“Yet, if they followed him—” said the Vicar.
“Ah, yes, to be sure. He strikes one as being a good reliable man. Ah!” And he gave a snatch at the Vicar’s arm. “I was nearly down that time. Terribly rough.”
“Terribly,” was the reply. “Drinkwater!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let us keep one each side of you. It is so dark, and the lantern will help us better that way.”
Chapter Six.
The Artist’s Plight.
The two boys were at the edge of the fissure at length, and leaned over to peer down through the bracken and heather which grew on the sides of the rough descent.