ease, and then they feared he would become careless.

It was well for Alan that his head was so steady, and that he did not
attempt to glance down from the height he had already reached. Not for a
moment would he dwell on the dangers of the ascent. Rather, he took a
delight in matching himself against the stern rocks. With all his
courage, however, it sometimes seemed to him as if his difficulties
would never end. Three times he nearly as possible fell. The strength
and fitness he had acquired in athletic sports and gymnasium at school
stood him in good stead now.

Fortunately for him the ascent became far easier as soon as he got above
high-water mark. The face of the precipice grew more and more uneven,
offering greater support to his hands and feet, and by-and-by he was
able to assist himself by the tufts of grass.

'He has reached the bushes!' cried Estelle, at last, with a cry of
relief. 'He will be all right now, won't he?'

'Yes,' replied Marjorie, her voice still tremulous.

'And how's he coming down again?' asked Georgie, his fears by no means
gone. 'And what are we to do if he doesn't come?'

Georgie and Estelle were gazing at Marjorie as if her words and her calm
alone prevented them from breaking down. If she gave way to fear, what
effect might it not have upon them? It was her duty to encourage and
raise the spirits of the younger ones, and put aside her own misgivings.
With an effort she forced herself to speak in cheerful tones.

'It is useless to think about it,' she said, 'and the best thing we can
do is to amuse ourselves till it is time to go. Look, the boat ought to
be pulled up higher. Let us see if we can manage it between us.'

Meantime Alan had reached the coastguard path which ran along the edge
of the cliff. No one being in sight, he determined to take the narrow
track which lay through a wooded hollow. It was part of the Moat House
property, and he desired to see whether he and Marjorie had been correct
in their guess that it was to this wood that Thomas had wished to come
when he was seen in the Wilderness.

Scrambling over the queer stone stile, he descended the rugged pathway,
where the thick brushwood and high trees shut out sky and sunlight. As
he advanced the track became narrower and more mossy, while here and
there the ground was broken by rocks. Now and again high mounds of
earth, mossy and green, rose on either side, and the wood grew denser.
He was uneasy, and half wished h