Frank assured Amyas that they would find a path leading from the beach up to the house, and he was not mistaken.

They found it easily, for it was made of white shell sand; and following it, struck into a "tunal," or belt of tall thorny cactuses.

Through this the path wound in zigzags up a steep rocky slope, and ended at a wicket-gate.

They tried it, and found it open.
"She may expect us," whispered Frank.
"Impossible!" "Why not?
She must have seen our ship; and if, as seems, the townsfolk know who we are, how much more must she! Yes, doubt it not, she still longs to hear news of her own land, and some secret sympathy will draw her down towards the sea to-night.

See! the light is in the window still!" "But if not," said Amyas, who had no such expectation, "what is your plan ?" "I have none." "None ?" "I have imagined twenty different ones in the last hour; but all are equally uncertain, impossible.