CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.
DOING ONE'S DUTY.
We did not have to stay very long before we descended.

My father said it would be better to stop, and while we were waiting Bob Chowne asked whether we were going to search the cave and see what was there.
"No!" said my father in very decisive tones.
"But you said something about us lads exploring it, sir, yesterday--I mean last night." "Yes, my lad, I did," replied my father so sternly that Bob Chowne was quite silenced; "but I have changed my mind." I noticed that he still did not say anything to Bigley, and that my old school-fellow was very silent, in fact we were none of us in a conversational frame of mind, but every now and then the idea kept creeping in that old Jonas must know about that cave, and the purpose for which it was used; and then I seemed to understand my father's thoughtful manner, for it was as though this discovery was likely to widen the breach between them.
In about an hour's time my father proposed that we should climb down, and feeling very stiff and cold we began to descend.
I went first, lowering myself from ledge to ledge, with my father lying down and holding my hands, and then following me, though really it was not very difficult, for we boys had been up and down far more dangerous places after gulls' eggs in our earlier days.
But, though we could go down in the bay, we could not get out of it as yet, for the tide was some distance up the point we wanted to pass.

The eastern one was clear, and we could have gone that way, and, after two miles' walk and scramble along the beach, have found a place where we could climb up, but that was not our object, and we waited about looking at the falling tide, and watching the rapidly disappearing three masts of the lugger.

Then, too, we noted the tracks on the beach, some of which were quite plain, but they did not show higher up by the cavern, and we knew that they would all disappear with, the next tide.
The temptation was very strong to go in and explore the place, but neither Bob nor I hinted at it, and Bigley was exceedingly quiet and dull.

In fact he went away from us after a time and sat down on the top of a rock close to the eastern point, a rock to which he had to leap, for it was still in the water, and there he sat waiting till he could get to another and another, and at last waved his hand to us, when we followed him and got round on to the shore on the other side.
It was no easy task even there, for the beach was terribly encumbered with rocks, but by creeping in and out, and by dint of some climbing, we managed to get along, and at last reached the Gap just as Doctor Chowne was about setting off back to get a boat at Ripplemouth and come in search of us, after having been up all night waiting for Bob's return, and then riding over to the Bay to hear from Kicksey that we had not been back, and then on to the Gap, to find that we had all gone out in Jonas Uggleston's boat, and not been heard of since.
"Well," said the doctor, after hearing a part of our adventure, "I suppose I must not thank Bob for this job, eh, Duncan?
It was your fault, you see.