The water was numbing; the ice at the edge of the hole was rotten, and broke away with every effort he made to climb on to it; even Julius, floundering beside him, bewildered, and at times a dead weight on his arms and neck, was embarrassing.

Jeffreys, however, did not exhaust himself by wild struggles.

He laid his stick across the corner of the hole where the ice seemed firmest, and with his arms upon it propped himself with tolerable security.

He ordered the dog out of the water and made him lie still at a little distance on the ice.

He even contrived to kick off one boot, skate and all, into the water, but was too numbed to rid himself of the other.
It seemed an eternity while Scarfe and Percy approached with the ladder, with Raby, terrified and pale, hovering behind.
"Don't come nearer," he shouted, when at last they got within reach.
"Slide it along." They pushed it, and it slipped to within a yard of him.
Julius, who appeared to have mastered the situation, jumped forward, and fixing his teeth in the top rung, dragged it the remaining distance.
The remainder was easy.