The first full blow of a wave hit the basalt below them with a heart-sickening thud; then miles of stricken cliff began to boom. The terrific corridor was no more, and between them and the Lizard point so many miles away to the east and the point of safety miles away to the west, there was nothing but cliff washed by sea.
“A rotten coast,” said Raft as they listened. “Only for this shelf we’d be down there.”
“We’d have been flung against the cliff and beaten to pieces,” said she.
“That’s so,” said Raft.
“When we get free from this,” she said, “let us keep inland. I don’t mind climbing over rocks, anything is better than the coast, under these cliffs.”
“We’ve got to keep pretty close to the cliffs, all the same, to strike that bay,” he replied, “hope it’s there.”
“It is there,” said she. “I feel—I know it is there and that we will find a ship. We are being looked after.”
“Which way?”
“We are being led. You remember when you saved me from dying in that cave, well, you were making for the bay then. If you had not found me you would have kept on and you would have crossed that plain where the bog places are, it looked the easiest way.”
“That’s so,” said Raft.