s brink, that is to say, the
updrawn loop of his stout leather belt, to which the rope was fastened,
was about that distance from the brink, and on either side of it he
hung down like a sack tied round the middle, quite motionless in his
swoon, his head to one side and his feet to the other.

Could he reach and grasp that leather belt without falling himself, and
if so, could he bear the man's weight and not be dragged over? Godfrey
shrank from the attempt; his blood curdled. Then he pictured, again in
a mind-flash, his poor companion whirling down through space to be
dashed to pulp at the bottom, and the agony of his wife and children
whom he knew, and who had wished to prevent him from climbing that day.
Oh! he would try. But still a paralysing fear overcame him, making him
weak and nervous. Then it was in Godfrey's extremity that his
imagination produced a very curious illusion. Quite distinctly he
seemed to hear a voice, that of Miss Ogilvy, say to him:

"Do it, Godfrey, at once, or it will be too late. We will help you."

This phantasy, or whatever it was, seemed to give him back his nerve
and courage. Coolly he tightened the grip of his left arm about the
knob of ice, and drawing himself forward a little, so that his neck and
part of his chest were over the edge, reached his right hand downwards.
His fingers touched the belt; to grasp it he must have another inch and
a half, or two inches. He let himself down that distance. Oh! how easy
it seemed to do so--and thrust his fingers beneath the belt. As he
closed them round it, the rope parted and all the weight that it had
borne came upon Godfrey's arm!

How long did he support it, he often wondered afterwards. For ages it
seemed. He felt as though his right arm was being torn from the socket,
while the ice cut into the muscles of his left like active torture. He
filled himself with air, blowing out his lower part so that its muscles
might enable him to get some extra hold of the rough ground; he dug his
toes deep into the icy snow. His hat fell from his head, rested for a
moment in a ridiculous fashion upon the swinging body beneath, then
floated off composedly into space, the tall feather in it sticking
upwards and fluttering a little. He heard voices approaching, and above
them the shouts of the guide, though what these said conveyed no
meaning to him. He must loose his hold and go too. No, he would not. He
would not, although now he felt as though his shoulder