know." he answered, in a testy sort of voice. "I don't like the cliff
top... It's so dangerous, don't you know? So unsafe. So unstable. The
rocks go off so sheer, and stones topple over so easily."

Le Neve laughed a little laugh of half-disguised contempt. He was
moving over toward the path up the cliff side as they spoke. "Why, you
used to be a first-class climber at school," he said, attempting it,
"especially when you were a little chap. I remember you could scramble
up trees like a monkey. What fun we had once in the doctor's orchard!
And as to the cliffs, you needn't go so near you have to tumble over
them. It seems ridiculous for a landowner not to know a bit of scenery
on his own estate that's celebrated and talked about all over
England."

"I'm not afraid of tumbling over, for myself," Tyrrel answered, a
little nettled by his friend's frank tone of amusement. "I don't feel
myself so useful to my queen and country that I rate my own life at
too high a figure. It's the people below I'm chiefly concerned about.
There's always someone wandering and scrambling about these cliffs,
don't you see?--fishermen, tourists, geologists. If you let a loose
stone go, it may fall upon them and crush them."

The engineer looked back upon him with a somewhat puzzled expression.
"Well, that's carrying conscience a point too far," he said, with one
strong hand on the rock and one sure foot in the first convenient
cranny. "If we're not to climb cliffs for fear of showering down
stones on those who stand below, we won't dare to walk or ride or
drive or put to sea for fear of running over or colliding against
somebody. We shall have to stop all our trains and keep all our
steamers in harbor. There's nothing in this world quite free from