From it led what once must have been the staircase up into the church. But this was now broken, and completely choked with stones and pieces of fallen masonry. On the opposite side of the room the wall was cracked and broken. In one place a crevice yawned, wide enough to let a man creep through into the darkness beyond. Leaning through this, Danny strained his eyes to try and pierce the gloom. There was nothing to see, but against his hot face he felt a cool wind blowing. It was altogether different from the heavy, suffocating atmosphere of the passage and crypt. Instead of the mouldy smell that had reached his nostrils, Danny was conscious of the pungent, salty odour that is borne on a sea breeze!
It filled his heart with hope. Holding aloft his lantern, he climbed through the opening, and stepped forward over the rough and stony floor.
CHAPTER IX
FREE!
The narrow place Danny had clambered into seemed more like a crevice than a passage. In parts the rough walls were so close together that he could only just pass. Further on, he had to bend his head, so low was the rocky roof. In another place a craggy boulder had to be climbed over, and a deep crack jumped across. And ever the cool breeze fanned his face, making his candle flare and gutter. As he stopped to listen, a faint sound reached his ears, a kind of sigh. As he pressed onwards the sound increased.
“The sea!” he whispered.
And then, through the dense blackness ahead, a grey patch showed, pricked here and there with a faint star. A rush of joy and relief filled Danny’s heart. Fresh air! The upper world again!
Hurrying over the rough floor he reached the opening in the rocky wall, and stepped out on to a ledge, very narrow, very perilous. Away before him stretched a vast expanse of sea, heaving and shimmering in the pale light of dawn. Taking a great breath of the cold, salty air, Danny looked about him.
Below him the cliff dropped smooth and precipitous, to where the green water churned and foamed among sharp points of rock. The grey wall above his head ran skywards, straight and smooth. There was no way up or down. And in front the lonely sea tossed and foamed, with never a boat in sight.
Sea gulls swooped about, with their sad, sharp cries—their gleaming, silver wings seeming to mock the boy, prisoner on a ledge that was to them but a resting-place.
