Then, as he felt the strong hemp quiver in his hands, he found himself wondering if the strands would snap one by one with the terrible strain of the jerk, and whether the boy would drop down into the sea.
What should he do then?
What should he do if the rope did not part?
He did not think he would have strength to draw the boy up, and, if he did, he was so unnerved now, that he did not believe he would be able to drag him over the edge on to the rock platform.
There! Ram must be turning giddy, he was so long; and, unable to bear the pressure longer, Archy opened his eyes and crept nearer to the edge, to face the horror of seeing the boy's wild upturned eyes.
But he saw nothing of the kind, save in the workings of his own disordered imagination.

What he did see was Ram's frank-looking rustic face close up, and a hand was reached over the edge.
"You may get hold of me anywhere if you like," said the boy, "and give a hand.

That's your style, orficer! Pull away, and up she comes.

That's it!" he said, as he crept over the edge.

"Thank'ee.