'Prick him in the back if he falters.

I will warrant,' the brute added with a chuckle, 'he has a tender place or two.' The Captain gave the word and we moved forward.

It was evident now that the cliff-path was our destination.

It was possible for the eye to follow the track all the way to it, through rough stones and brushwood; and though Clon climbed feebly, and with many groans, two minutes saw us step on to it.

It did not prove to be, in fact, the perilous place it looked at a distance.