The suspense in the darkness seemed strained to breaking point, and Archy lay with his heart beating painfully, watching till it seemed as if the case was hopeless, and that if Dick, now nearly off the cliff, could grip hold of the fallen man, they would never be able to get him and his burden back.
“’Nother inch,” came up out of the void. “Touched him. ’Nother inch!”
At each order, given in a hoarse, smothered way, the men shuffled themselves forward a little, and lowered Dick down.
“Just a shade more, my lads,” came up.
“Can’t!” said one of the men who held one of Dick’s legs.
“Right. Got him,” came up, as a thrill of horror ran along the chain at that word can’t. “Haul away!”
How that hauling up was managed the midshipman hardly knew, but he had some consciousness of having joined in the efforts made, by seizing one man of the human chain, and dimly seeing Gurr and two other men of the group now gathered about them lend their aid. Then there was a scuffling and dragging, a loud panting, and, with a few adjurations to “hold on,” and “haul,” and “keep tight,” Dick and the man he had been lowered down to save were dragged into safety.
“Phew!” panted Dick. “Look here, Bob Harris—never no more, my lad, never no more!”
“Bravely done, Dick,” whispered Gurr.
“Thank ye, sir. But, never no more. I want to be a good mate to everybody, but this here’s a shade too much.”