"
Simon's grim features relaxed into a smile. "The only face that
you will see ashore, Samkin, will bring you small comfort," said
he, "and I warn you that this is no easy errand, but one which may
be neither sweet nor fair, for if these people take us our end
will be a cruel one."
"By my hilt," said Aylward, "I am with you, gossip, wherever you
may go! Say no more, therefore, for I am weary of living like a
cony in a hole, and I shall be right glad to stand by you in your
venture."
That night, two hours after dark, a small boat put forth from the
Basilisk. It contained Simon, Aylward and two seamen. The
soldiers carried their swords, and Black Simon bore a brown
biscuit-bag over his shoulder. Under his direction the rowers
skirted the dangerous surf which beat against the cliffs until
they came to a spot where an outlying reef formed a breakwater.
Within was a belt of calm water and a shallow cover with a sloping
beach. Here the boat was dragged up and the seamen were ordered
to wait, while Simon and Aylward started on their errand.
With the assured air of a man who knows exactly where he is and
whither he is going, the man-at-arms began to clamber up a narrow
fern-lined cleft among the rocks. It was no easy ascent in the
darkness, but Simon climbed on like an old dog hot upon a scent,
and the panting Aylward struggled after as best he might.
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