The man turned and pointed across a piece of untidy waste ground to a coastguard’s path which wound its way along the top of the cliffs.
“Follow that path as straight as you can go,” said he.
“How far?” said Dick.
“Well, some people make a long journey of it, and some a short one,” said the other oracularly. “Shall we say six miles?”
Dick said he would sooner say three.
“An easy six, then,” said the man smiling indulgently. “Well, good-day to you.”
“Good-day, mate,” said Dick, and plunging into the débris before him, started on his walk.
It was unfortunate for him in the sequel that Sam and the cook, who had started out for a quiet stroll, without any intention of looking for Captain Gething, or any nonsense of that kind, had witnessed the interview from a distance. By dint of hurrying they overtook the elderly man of sedate aspect, and by dint of cross-questioning, elicited the cause of Dick’s sudden departure.
“Which way is it?” inquired Sam.
“You follow him,” said the man, indicating the figure in front as it slowly ascended the cliff, “and you’ll be there as soon as he will.”