On three sides the lake, still beautiful, though the colour was fading from it, effectively blocked their way.

On the fourth and narrowest side there was the shoulder of rocks, not only blocking them, but affording a perfect shelter for Nash and his men, for they did not doubt that it was he.
"They think they've got us," said a fiercely exultant voice beside him, "but we ain't started to make all the trouble we're goin' to make." Life came back to him as he looked at her.

She was trembling with excitement, but it was the tremor of eagerness, not the unmistakable sick palsy of fear.

He drew out a large handkerchief of fine, white linen and tied it to a long splinter of wood which he tore away from one of the rotten boards.
"Go out with this," he said.

"They aren't after you, Sally.