The midshipman drew in a long breath of the salt air, as he stood at the opening in the cliff face.

He tightened his belt, drew his red cap down on his head, wished that his hands were not so sore, and muttered the words, "Now for liberty!" He began to creep through the hole till his head was well out, and he could look round for enemies.
There was not one.

The only thing that he could see was a gull sailing round and round between him and the sea, down to his right.
And now, for the first time, it struck him that the gull looked very small, and from that by degrees he began to realise that the hole out of which he had thrust his head was fully four hundred feet above where the waves broke, and that it must be two hundred more to the top of the cliff.
It looked more perilous too than it had seemed before, but the lad was in nowise daunted.

The way was open to him to climb up or lower himself down apparently, but he chose the former way of escape, knowing as he did how very little at the base of the cliffs was left bare even in the lowest tides, and that if he got down he would either have to swim or to sit perched upon a shelf of rock till some boat came and picked him off.
There was no cutter in view, but he did not trouble about that.

He stopped only to gaze down at the dazzling blue sea, and thought that if it came to the worst he could leap right off into deep water, and then he drew himself right out on to a rugged ledge, a few inches in width, and stood holding on by the stones round the opening, looking upward for the best way to get up.
"Don't seem easy," he said cheerily, "but every foot climbed will be one less to get up.