The air was warm, and he climbed in such hurry that the sweat soon began to drop from his forehead.

By the time he reached the cliffs he was forced to pull a handkerchief out and mop himself; but without a pause, he took the turning westward towards Troy harbour, and tramped along sturdily.
For his mind was made up.
Ship's-chandler Webber, of Troy, was fitting out a brand-new privateer, he had heard, and she was to sail that very week.

He would go and offer himself as a seaman, and if Webber made any bones about it, he would engage to put a part of his legacy into the adventure.

In fact, he was ready for anything that would take him out of Porthlooe.

To live there and run the risk of meeting Ruby on the other man's arm was more than flesh and blood could stand.