THE MYSTERIOUS SIGNALS
one sought, which, in fog or darkness, is exactly what one is most likely to do. They knew that to their right was the entrance to the harbor, with a lighthouse on a point, but how far away it might be there was no telling. What lay along the shore in the other direction they didn't know. Consequently they turned westward, toward the light. The night was not cold, but here on the cliffs a chill breath from the ocean penetrated their saturated clothing, sent shivers up and down their backs and set their teeth chattering. Perhaps if they had been able to walk briskly they could have kept warm, but when one doesn't know whether the next step is to drop him over the edge of a cliff, walking briskly is not advisable. They went on, making what progress they might, trying to keep the feel of the turf underfoot, but frequently finding themselves stumbling over the bare surface of the ledges. They were doing but little talking now and had quite forgotten for the time how to laugh. They were miserably hungry, and when Nelson spoke feelingly out of the darkness of a cup of hot coffee Martin threatened to throw him over the cliff if he didn't stop. There is no saying how fast they traveled, but I think that if they covered a quarter of a mile of that going in a half-hour they did well. It was close
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