Then it was in Godfrey's extremity that his imagination produced a very curious illusion.

Quite distinctly he seemed to hear a voice, that of Miss Ogilvy, say to him: "Do it, Godfrey, at once, or it will be too late.

We will help you." This phantasy, or whatever it was, seemed to give him back his nerve and courage.

Coolly he tightened the grip of his left arm about the knob of ice, and drawing himself forward a little, so that his neck and part of his chest were over the edge, reached his right hand downwards.
His fingers touched the belt; to grasp it he must have another inch and a half, or two inches.

He let himself down that distance.