said Oliver. "Come on now. Shall I lead, or will
you?"

"You, please sir, and what do you say to keepin' hold o' hands?"

"I was going to propose it. Here's mine."

Smith grasped the extended hand, and Oliver started off at once, making
his way cautiously to the edge of the river, and then, as a boy might
along the kerbstone of a street, he kept on passing his right foot
along, till at last they stood in the profound darkness, listening to
the thundering echoing roar of the falling water reverberating from the
hollow roof and rising and sinking in booming deep diapasons till there
were moments when it seemed to their stunned ears like a burst of
strange wild giant music.

They stood for long enough together there, feeling that they were quite
at the edge where the water-worn lava formed an angle, thinking, with
many a shudder, that if poor Wriggs had fallen from where they stood,
they could never by any possibility see him again.

At last Oliver drew his companion back, and, placing his lips to the
man's ear, shouted to him that it was of no use to stay there, and they
had better return to the portion of the cavern round the angle where
they could speak to each other.

"You be leader going back," said Oliver.

"But I aren't sure which way to go, sir," shouted back Smith.

Oliver placed his lips close again.

"Keep your left foot on the edge and slide it along as we go."

"But suppose it's wrong way, sir?" suggested Smith.

"It can't be," cried Oliver again. "If you keep your left foot on the
edge of the rock, every step must take us back toward the entrance."

Smith tightened his grasp and began, but so clumsily, that at the end of
ten minutes he slipped, fell, and gave so violent a jerk to Oliver's arm
that the latter nearly lost his hold, and, for a few moments, the
sailor's fate seemed sealed. For he lay motionless with both legs over
the edge, while all Oliver could do was to hold on, with his heart
beating heavily, and the roar of the cavern seeming to be multiplied a
hundredfold. He could not shout, for his throat felt dry, but he knew
that if he did, his voice would not be heard, and he waited till Smith
recovered himself a little, then made a struggle, and managed with his
companion's help to get on his legs again.

Then the slow movement was resumed, with Oliver conscious of the
exertion and shock by the twitching, beating sensation of the pulses in
the sailor's hand.

At last, after what