Summary

Portrait of Max Pemberton Max Pemberton The Sea Wolves — XXI. FLIGHT TO THE SEA (1901)

At any other time he would have deemed a man who attempted to climb it nothing less than a lunatic; but now, with a desperation which was born of the position, he clutched at this straw and dared the hazard.
"Hal," said he, "I'm going up the cliff, there. Will you come?"
"I'll try," said Fisher laconically; but the Prince gave him no opportunity for answer. He had already sprung up at the rock, clutching it with a fierce, nervous grip, and pulling himself from bush to bush with a frenzy which reckoned with no danger and was swift in its success.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Max Pemberton Max Pemberton The Sea Wolves — XXI. FLIGHT TO THE SEA (1901)

Indeed, before the lad himself could move, the other was half-way to the summit, hanging, as it seemed, against the perpendicular face of the rock, and above a precipice two hundred feet in depth; and still he went on where one would have said no man could go—on where a false step would have sent him reeling down to death on the crags below—and Fisher's head whirled at the sight, and be declared to himself that he could not follow, though his life hung upon the venture.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Max Pemberton Max Pemberton The Sea Wolves — XXI. FLIGHT TO THE SEA (1901)

When at length they came to the woods, the pursuing party was two-thirds of a mile away; but Messenger still held on, forcing his way through untrodden brushwood and thick coverts of thorns, until at last they came within view of the sea, and both stood to pant like horses that have run a race. Then they doubled back through the wood, but kept parallel with the shore, until at last they plunged into the dry bed of that which was never more than a rivulet; and finding it roofed with a thick canopy of leaves, they followed its course for some quarter of a mile.
Source: Wikisource

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