Returning once more to the friendly ledge, which, after the dangers he had so recently passed through, seemed to afford a position of absolute safety, George began to cast about in his mind for some means of overcoming this new difficulty, and at last he hit upon the idea of making a narrow pathway up the slope by pulling up the grass by the roots. This, however, he soon found would be a work of considerable time; but he also discovered that it would be possible, without any great difficulty, to remove small patches of just sufficient size to give a precarious, but comparatively secure, foothold, and this he at once proceeded to do.
Half an hour of arduous labour in this direction enabled him to safely reach the top of the slope, where, to his great gratification, he discovered another platform of rock, about six feet wide. Passing along this, he came suddenly upon an irregular fissure in the rocky face of the precipice. This fissure was about four feet wide at the bottom, the walls sloping inwards, like a roof, until they met at a height of seven or eight feet from the ground. George at once unhesitatingly entered the opening, and found that it widened somewhat as it receded from the face of the rock, until at a distance of some five and twenty feet inwards it abruptly terminated in a small, cave-like aperture, some six feet in height, and perhaps twelve in diameter, being, as nearly as he could ascertain, by the sense of touch only, roughly of a circular form.
George was inexpressibly thankful that he had been guided to this place of refuge, for here, he resolved, the party should pass the night, as they easily could, with the most perfect safety. It was by this time far too dark to attempt the awful risk of a passage up the precipice, and he felt sure that, even could they succeed in safely reaching the top, their pursuers would be found there, awaiting them. But this cavernous fissure afforded them the very shelter they required; its existence was, in all probability, absolutely a secret; and, even were it not so, it was inaccessible to all but those who chose to risk their necks in an effort to reach it; and, lastly, they could seek in it the rest they so absolutely needed, without the haunting fear of rolling over the precipice in their sleep.
Thinking thus, Leicester rapidly, but cautiously, made his way back to Tom, whom he found in a state of the greatest mental perturbation, owing to his prolonged absence.
Hastily describing to the lad the fortunate discovery which he had made, George made what few preparations were required for the short but dangerous journey before them, and then the two resumed their load, and with cautious steps wended their way along the ledge to the treacherous slope, it was by this time as dark as it would be throughout the night; but this circumstance rather lessened than increased their peril, for it prevented their realising as fully as in broad daylight the giddy height of the narrow path along which they were travelling; whilst the brilliant light from the stars overhead was sufficient to enable them to pick their steps, and find the bare patches in the grass, in which it was so imperatively necessary for them to plant their footsteps. At last, after nearly a quarter of an hour’s arduous labour, and several narrow escapes from a disastrous accident, the welcome shelter of the cave-like fissure was reached, and, feeling their way cautiously into it, they laid Walford down, released him from his uncomfortable bonds, and hungry, thirsty, and utterly fagged out as they were with the arduous labours of the day, threw themselves down beside him, and, with a half-unconscious thanksgiving for their preservation trembling upon their lips, fell at once into a profound slumber.
Their sleep lasted until late on in the following day, the sun being already low in the heavens when George was awakened by Walford with a querulous demand for food and drink. He at once rose, and, proceeding to the mouth of the fissure, effected a cautious reconnaissance, the result of which was the establishment of the satisfactory circumstance that no one was visible in the ravine below. The next point to be ascertained was, whether his pursuers—any or all of them—were still maintaining a watch for them on the cliff above. George had not the slightest doubt but that, when he saw them riding up the valley on the previous evening, they had resolved to ride round and intercept the fugitives, or pick up their trail at the cliff-top, if possible; the question to be settled was, whether, having failed in both these objects, they would establish a watch upon that part of the cliff at which the fugitives might be expected to make their appearance; or whether, believing that pursuit had been baffled, and an escape effected, they would return discomfited to the estate. Leicester was of opinion that, failing to detect any sign of the fugitives, and the dogs being unable to pick up the scent, a suspicion might occur to the minds of the pursuers that their prey was still lurking in some precarious resting-place on the face of the precipice, and, in that case, no doubt a strict watch would be maintained for some hours; but as to how long it would be before the patience of the watchers became exhausted, or before the conviction should thrust itself upon them that the fugitives had escaped, he could of course form no opinion. But, having thus far evaded capture, he thought it would be only prudent to make sure that the coast was clear before proceeding further in the prosecution of their flight.
Having come to this conclusion, he returned to the inner recesses of the cave, acquainted Tom with his intention to make a trip of exploration as far, if necessary, as the top of the cliff, and forthwith set out upon his mission.
George’s first act, on issuing from the fissure, was to cast a look aloft, in order that he might judge of the nature of the task still before them. The sight was anything but encouraging, the task of climbing that vertical face—perfectly smooth, to all intents and purposes, the projections and inequalities being so slight as to be barely distinguishable beyond a height of twenty or five-and-twenty feet—seeming to him, even after his recent experience of cliff-climbing, a sheer impossibility. To climb it, even unencumbered as he then was, was a task not to be lightly entered upon, and he determined that, before attempting it, he would seek further, and endeavour to discover a somewhat less difficult path to the summit.
With this object in view, he continued his way along the rocky platform upon which he was then standing, until he rounded a sharp angle, where it abruptly came to an end, and gave place to a rough, jagged, and broken face, very similar to that which they had ascended on the previous evening. Casting his eye over and up this uneven face, in an effort to pick out the most suitable path, his gaze was arrested by the sight of a bush growing out of the face of the rock. The bush was only some ten feet distant, and he was therefore close enough to it, not only to see that it was evidently a species of wild raspberry, but also to discern the very welcome circumstance that it was literally bending beneath its weight of ripe fruit. He was not long in making his way to the spot where it stood, and then, removing his jacket, and knotting the sleeves round his neck, he, with a seaman’s readiness of invention, converted it into a sort of bag, which he rapidly filled to its utmost capacity with the cool, ripe, refreshing juicy fruit. With this he hurried back to the inmates of the cave, and, laying it before them, bade them eat freely, returning himself to the bush, since it lay exactly in the way he intended to take, to satisfy the cravings of his own appetite.