The long beach, with its walls of foam and of dune, stretched on without change.

But upon this beach they were no longer travelling; the horse was headed, as it were, to the dune, and now began to climb its almost upright side.
With an imprecation he threw himself out of the cart at a bound into sand so soft that he sank up to the knees and stumbled against the upright side of the hill.

The lower voice he had heard was silent instantly.

O'Shea stopped the pony with a sharp word of interrogation.
"Where are you going ?" shouted Caius.

"What are you going to do ?" He need not have shouted, for the wind was swift to carry all sounds from his lips to O'Shea; but the latter's voice, as it came back to him, seemed to stagger against the force of the wind and almost to fail.
"Where are we going?
Well, we're going roight up towards the sky at present, but in a minute we'll be going roight down towards the other place.