"Come on, old son," exclaimed Kaye. "Don't keep us waiting all the evening."
"Sorry," admitted Biggs frankly, "I can't face it. I'll be sure to topple overboard—honest fact."
"Rot!" ejaculated Daventry incredulously.
"'Course it is," agreed the cadet. "Never could stick heights. Looking out of a window of a two-storied house makes me giddy."
Derek could see that Biggs was not trying to hoax him. The airman whose deeds in the air had already gained him no mean reputation, who could soar at a terrific height amidst a heavy fire from German antis, was unable to trust himself to cross that ten-feet gap.
"Jump it, then," suggested Kaye, and, setting the example, he leapt easily across the chasm. Even then Biggs, the airman-athlete, hung back.
"Can't make up my mind to try," he declared. "I feel an awful rotter, but I can't help it."
"Look here," suggested Derek. "I can see a path leading down the face of the cliff. Are you game to take it on? If so, we can climb up on both sides. It doesn't look very difficult."
Biggs still hesitated. Daventry, leaping across the gap, made his way to the place where the head of the natural steps began. There were signs that the path had been frequently used, possibly as a means of access to the sandy beach and caves at the foot of the cliffs.
Standing close to the edge of the cliffs (that headland attained a height of fifty or sixty feet), Derek surveyed the expanse of water beneath him. As he did so, he saw something that caused his heart to throb violently.