She slipped still farther down and sat sideways upon the narrow ledge.

So narrow that if the vessel had rolled she could not have remained upon it.
There she waited.
Then there came, sharper and clearer out of the darkness in the direction of the town, the first stroke of nine o'clock from the tower of the new church.

Before the second stroke had sounded she was hanging by her two hands from the ledge.

She hung at her full length; she put her feet together; she hoped that she would go down smoothly and make no splash.

Three--four--five--six--seven--eight--nine--and she let her fingers slip from the ledge.