“Silence there!” cried Syd. “Now, my lads, I think you may begin to haul.”
The men obeyed, and by the exercise of a great deal of caution the first rope was drawn slowly hand over hand up the cliff till Roylance’s head appeared. Syd extended his hands to his help, and the midshipman climbed over the edge and sat down in the hot sunshine in his drenched clothes, looking white and haggard, as one looks after a terrible escape from death.
The next minute the sailor was on the cliff, looking none the worse for his adventure, but pretty well drenched by contact with Roylance’s dripping clothes.
Then a little more hauling took place, till the men could get a good hold of the line Roylance had brought ashore, in the midst of which the latter suddenly sprang up, looked over the edge of the cliff, and catching sight of his enemy, he picked up the biggest piece of stone he could lift and hurled it down. It fell with a mighty splash in the water, and as chance had it, for little could be said for the aim, right down upon the shark, which turned up directly after, and then recovered itself and swam laboriously away.
Chapter Thirty Eight.
“You made me feel horribly bad, Roy,” whispered Syd, hastily. “How could you do such a fearfully dangerous thing?”
Roylance smiled feebly and pointed down at the boat, which was yielding slowly to the drag kept on it by the men.
“That may be the means of saving our lives,” he said.