ascends, until, attaining an altitude of some hundred feet, it falls precipitously into the ocean.
The view was pleasing—a sweep of ocean on all sides, save for the little garden-isle of palms fenced in by a low wall of coral and foam.
The mate and the apprentice, his nephew, lay on the summit and smoked and dozed. Seeking, as he said, to photograph the scene on his mind, the doctor sat on the edge of the bluff. The opportunity he seized of conversing with Elms concerning his possession of the slip of paper supposed to be deposited in the safe.
As they conversed, almost angrily at times, the temptation came again and again upon the perplexed Sergeant to hurl the doctor from the cliff. His legs dangled over the edge. Once Elms started to his feet. One push from behind would effect his purpose! A bush hid them from the eyes of the mate. Elms gasped. He beat his breast as he stood behind his victim, fighting a terrible battle. The doctor, observing his excitement, which he attributed to his remarks, thought to leave the man a few moments to recover his composure. Perhaps he had pressed him unduly.
"Elms, lend me your hand; there's a good fellow. Here, take the end of my stick," he said, stepping down the face of the cliff to gather a rare rock-plant that had caught his eye.
"Hold firm, my man," he continued, as he stooped carefully on a slight track below which the precipice seemed to fall away, perpendicular, to the sea.
"Don't be frightened," cried he, as he felt the stick he grasped tremble in his hand. "I always had a cool head for this kind of work. Have often crept along wilder cliffs than this in dear old Devon."
