Page 508 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

The track now began to go uphill, and Rex redoubled his ef-
forts, trusting to his superior muscular energy to shake off
his pursuer. He breasted the rise, and paused to listen. The
crashing of branches behind him had ceased, and it seemed
that he was alone.
He had gained the summit of the cliff. The lights of the
Neck were invisible. Below him lay the sea. Out of the black
emptiness came puffs of sharp salt wind. The tops of the
rollers that broke below were blown off and whirled away
into the night—white patches, swallowed up immediately
in the increasing darkness. From the north side of the bay
was borne the hoarse roar of the breakers as they dashed
against the perpendicular cliffs which guarded Forrestier’s
Peninsula. At his feet arose a frightful shrieking and whis-
tling, broken at intervals by reports like claps of thunder.
Where was he? Exhausted and breathless, he sank down
into the rough scrub and listened. All at once, on the track
over which he had passed, he heard a sound that made him
bound to his feet in deadly fear— the bay of a dog!
He thrust his hand to his breast for the remaining pistol,
and uttered a cry of alarm. He had dropped it. He felt round
about him in the darkness for some stick or stone that
might serve as a weapon. In vain. His fingers clutched noth-
ing but prickly scrub and coarse grass. The sweat ran down
his face. With staring eyeballs, and bristling hair, he stared
into the darkness, as if he would dissipate it by the very in-
tensity of his gaze. The noise was repeated, and, piercing
through the roar of wind and water, above and below him,
seemed to be close at hand. He heard a man’s voice cheering

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