He was still laboriously worming his way through the inner maze of branches when a well-known voice reached him from the ground.
"Mr.Jenks, what on earth are you doing up there ?" "Oh! so those wretched fowls aroused you ?" he replied.
"Yes; but why did you arouse them ?" "I had a fancy to roost by way of a change" "Please be serious." "I am more than serious.

This tree grows a variety of small sharp thorn that induces a maximum of gravity--before one takes the next step." "But why do you keep on climbing ?" "It is sheer lunacy, I admit.

Yet on such a moonlit night there is some reasonable ground for even a mad excuse." "Mr.Jenks, tell me at once what you are doing." Iris strove to be severe, but there was a touch of anxiety in her tone that instantly made the sailor apologetic.

He told her about the ledge, and explained his half-formed notion that here they might secure a safe retreat in case of further attack--a refuge from which they might defy assault during many days.

It was, he said, absolutely impossible to wait until the morning.