“I think we could do it; what do you say? If we went round we might miss the others.”
“All wight,” said Braintree, blowing his hands; “I’m game, so’s Tubbs.”
Tubbs said nothing, but stood by miserably, ready to follow Bowler’s lead.
“I’ll go down first,” said the latter. “Mind how you come, the rocks are slippery.”
He lowered himself cautiously down the steep rock, finding just enough to cling on to with his hands, while he felt his way down with his feet. He got to the bottom safely, and found firm footing in a ledge of rock close to the water’s edge.
“Now, then,” shouted he, “down you come, Braintree.”
Braintree obeyed, and managed with difficulty to reach the ledge. Then Tubbs attempted. But he, poor fellow, clumsy at all times, and now utterly unnerved by the miseries of the day, was not man enough for the venture, and, after one feeble effort, begged to be allowed to stay where he was.
“Nonsense!” cried Bowler; “come on, old man, we’ll help you down all right.”
So Tubbs tried again. Had not the situation been so perilous, the appearance he presented as he clung wildly on to the rock with his hands, and kicked still more wildly with his feet, would have been ludicrous. But it was no time for joking. The two at the bottom piloted his feet as well as they could, and encouraged him in his downward career. But before they could reach him he slipped, and with a howl fell backward into the sea.
In a moment Bowler, dressed as he was, was in beside him, holding him up and striking out to where Braintree, with outstretched hand, waited to help them in. But it was long before they could haul his half-senseless form from the water; and by the time this was accomplished, Bowler himself was so exhausted that he in turn needed all Braintree’s aid to land himself. At last, however, all three were on the ledge.