Yaspard descended with an admirable torch in his hand, and the articles Harry required strapped around him.
Great was our hero's joy to find Tom so much restored; and when they had bathed his face, and made him drink some water, he was able to speak collectedly. "I am hurt about the left shoulder," he said, when they began to examine him, "and my head feels dreadful."
"There is a nasty cut on the brow," said Harry, "and a slight one behind the ear. I won't move the clumsy bandage, though, till we get him up, when it can be made more ship-shape. Now, Tom, you must let us put you in the potatoe-bag and haul you out of this."
They were very deft and tender in their handling, and Tom bit his lips to refrain from groaning over his acute pain; but for all that the job was a tedious and trying one, and when he was lashed into the sack Tom fainted again.
"I must go up with him," said Harry; "those duffers might do some harm."
He tested the rope, and, assured that it would bear a good weight, he put an arm round Tom, and then, catching the rope with his other hand, gave the signal.
Fortunately they had not to be raised very far, and it was accomplished without any misadventure beyond the "skinning" of Harry's hand, which he could not guard without leaving Tom's poor head unprotected.
As soon as Yaspard too was got out of that horrible hole, all haste was made to reach the open air; and in the same manner Tom was lifted from the upper vault and laid upon the sward.
When he came to himself, he was stretched on the grass with Bill's knee for a pillow and Harry's skilful hands ministering to him; and in that moment Tom must have been clearly conscious of all that had taken place, for he murmured with great fervency, "Thank God for the blessed light of day."
Just then a shower of spray came driving over the Stack, and, dashing itself against their faces, called the attention of all to the storm now raging on the sea.