Here--up above me." Mike began to climb the rugged granite, and had just reached a position from whence he could stretch over and see the exit of the pent-in currents which glided round the little cove or bay, one strongly resembling the water-filled crater of some extinct volcano, when his left foot slipped from the little projection upon which he stood, and, in spite of the frantic snatch he made to save himself, he fell heavily upon Vince, driving him outward, while he himself dropped within the ridge, and for the moment it seemed as if Vince was to be sent rolling down the steep slope and over the edge of the precipice.
But the boy instinctively threw out his hands to clutch at anything to stop his downward progress, and his right came in contact with Mike's leg, gripping the trouser desperately, and the next moment he was hanging at the full extent of his arm upon the slope, his back against the rock, staring outward over the barrier at the sea, while Mike was also on his back, but head downward, with his knees bent over the strait ridge upon which they had so lately been standing.
For quite a minute they lay motionless, too much unnerved by the shock to attempt to alter their positions; while Vince felt that if the cloth by which he held so desperately gave way, nothing could save him, and he must go down headlong to the unseen dangers below.
There was another danger, too, for which he waited with his heart beating painfully.

At any moment he felt that he might drag his companion over to destruction, and the thought flashed through his brain, ought he to leave go?
This idea stirred him to action, and he made a vain effort to find rest for his heels; but they only glided over the rock, try how he would to find one of the little shelf-like openings formed between the blocks, which often lay like huge courses of quarried stone.
Then, as he hung there breathing heavily, he found his voice: "Mike!" he shouted; and the answer came in a smothered tone from the other slope of the steep ridge.
"Hullo!" "Can you help me ?" "No: can't move; if I do you'll pull me over." There was a terrible silence for what seemed to be minutes, but they were moments of the briefest, before Vince spoke again.
"Can you hold on ?" Silence, broken by a peculiar rustling, and then Mike said: "I think so.
I've got my hand wedged in a crack; but I can't hold on long with my head down like this.

Look sharp! Climb up." "Look sharp--climb up!" muttered Vince, as, raising his left hand, which had been holding on to a projection in the rock at his side, he reached up, and, trying desperately, he managed to get hold of the doubled-over fold at the bottom of his companion's trouser, cramping his fingers over it, and getting a second good hold.
It does not seem much to read, but it took a good deal of his force out of him, and he lay still, panting.
"Pray look sharp," came from the other side.
"Yes.

Hold on," cried Vince, as a horrible sensation began creeping through him, which he felt was preparatory to losing his nerve and falling: "I'm going to turn over." "No, no--don't," came faintly.

"I can't hold on." "You must!" shouted Vince fiercely.