to see Ram glide slowly off, and, with brow covered
with great drops of perspiration and his hands wet and cold, the
midshipman rose panting to his feet, looked round, and sent up shout
after shout for help.

Again his voice seemed utterly lost in the air, and a peculiar,
querulous cry from the gull, which came slowly sailing round, was all
the response he got.

"Ram!" he cried at last. "Ram! Don't play tricks, lad. Speak to me.
I want to help you. Tell me what to do--to get help. Can't you speak?"

There was no mistaking the state of affairs; the boy was either dead or
completely stunned by his fall.

Archy put his hands to his temples, and stood looking down wildly for a
few moments, to assure himself that he could not reach his late
adversary; and then, perfectly satisfied of the impossibility of the
task, he began resolutely to climb up the face of the cliff where he had
come down, and, setting his teeth hard, went from crack to crevice and
ledge, on and on, seeing nothing but the white face below him on the
shelf, and praying the while that the poor lad might not fall before he
came back with help.

The work was more dangerous than he had anticipated, and twice he
slipped, once so badly that he was holding on merely by the sharp edge
of a projecting piece of stone, but he found foothold again, drew
himself up, and went on climbing again, till, with face streaming with
perspiration and his fingers wet with blood, of which he left traces on
the stone as he went on, he at last reached the opening he had fought so
hard to make, climbed in, turned and leaned out as far as he could, to
try and get a glimpse of Ram, and be sure that he had not glided into
the sea.

He could see nothing; Ram was far below under the projecting rock; and,
drawing back once more, the midshipman began to hurry down the steps and
then the slope, into the black quarry that he had fancied he had quitted
for ever.

To his great delight, there, right away before him, was Ram's lanthorn,
burning brightly with the door open, and shining upon the old sails and
shipping gear, stores, and remains of wrecks saved from the sea.

But he did not stay. He caught up the lanthorn, closed the door lest a
puff again should extinguish the candle, and then hesitated a moment or
two as a thought struck him.

"No," he said aloud, "I must get help;" and, hurrying toward the
opening, he kicked against the basket of provisions the lad had brought
bac