d peevishly:

"Don't--don't!--What is it?"

"Val," I cried, and my voice was caught up, and died away in whispers.

Then there was a pause, and I lay listening till, from below, came the
words:

"Did any one speak?"

"Yes, yes, I did," I cried. "Where are you?"

"I--I don't know. Think I must have had a fall."

I was about to lower myself to the speaker, when a sudden thought made
me turn a little over on my left side. The next moment I was clinging
hard with both hands, for a stone I had touched gave way, and there was
a rushing sound, silence, and then a horrible echoing splash which set
my heart beating fast. In imagination I saw the loosened stone slide
down to an edge below me, and bound off, to fall into the water, which I
could hear lapping, sucking, and gliding about the sides of the chasm,
strangely suggestive of live creatures which had been disturbed and had
made a rush at the falling stone in the belief it was something they
might tear and devour.

Recovering from my momentary panic, I set one hand free to search for
and get out my little tin match-box. It was no easy task, under the
circumstances, to get it open and strike one of the tiny tapers.

"Val, is that you?" came from just below.

"Yes; wait a moment. Hold tight," I said in a choking voice, as I
rubbed the match on the bottom of the box, making a phosphorescent line
of light, then another, and another, before impatiently throwing the
match from me and seeing its dim light die away in the darkness.

I knew the reason why I had not got the match to light. As I opened the
box again to get another, I did not insert finger and thumb till they
got a good rub on my jacket to free them from the dampness caused by
holding on to the wet stones. Now, as I struck, there was a sharp
crackling noise, and the light flashed out, caught on, and the match
burned bravely, giving me light enough to look for the tin lamp I had
touched before. There it was, some little distance above me, on a
terribly steep, wet slope.

No time was to be lost; so, mastering my hesitation as I thought of what
was before me if I slipped, I began to climb; but, before I had drawn
myself up a yard, Denham's voice rose to me, its tones full of agony and
despair:

"Don't leave me, Val, old fellow!"

"Not going to," I shouted. "I'm getting the lamp."

"Ah!" came from below.

Almost before the exclamation had died away I was within reach of the
fallen lamp; but ju