The agonies I suffered during that descent no pen can describe.
Every moment I expected to feel my shoulder gripped from behind, or
to feel the hands of some mysterious and infernal power around my
neck. Close behind me followed my companion, humming--

"And the devil has got his due, my lads--
Sing hey! but he waits for you!"

And though I was far from singing hey! at the prospect, I felt that
he meant what he said.

Arrived at the foot of the rock, we passed through the archway on to
Ready-Money Cove. Turning down to the edge of the sea, the Captain
scanned the water narrowly, but there was no trace of the hapless
John. With a muttered curse, he began quickly to climb out along the
north side of the rock, just above the sea-level, and looked again
into the depths. Once more he was disappointed. Flinging off his
clothes, he dived again and again, until from sheer exhaustion he
crept out, bundled on his shirt and trousers, and climbed back to me.

"Curse him! where can he be?"

I now saw for the first time how terribly worn and famished the man
was: he looked like a wolf, and his white teeth were bare in his
rage. He had cut his foot on the rock. Still keeping his evil eye
upon me, he knelt down by the water's edge and began slowly to bathe
the wound.

"By the way, boy, what did you say your name was? Jasper? Jasper
what?"