wishing the cast God-speed, the rope was thrown.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

The excited party burst into a hearty cheer as the rings of wet rope
flew glistening through the sunshine, and a fresh burst broke forth as
they saw the outermost deftly caught by Roylance. But the cheer changed
to a yell of horror as it was seen that in his effort to cast the line
far enough, the old boatswain had overbalanced himself and fallen
headlong down the cliff, which was, fortunately for him, sufficiently
out of the perpendicular where he fell to enable him to save himself
here and there by snatching at the rugged blocks of coral, checking his
fall cleverly enough till, as his companions breathlessly watched, he
stopped altogether, hanging, almost, on a ledge about six feet above the
waves, and only keeping himself from going farther by grasping the
stones.

The intense interest was divided now between Roylance on the slowly
drifting boat and the boatswain clinging for dear life.

"Who can climb down to him," cried Syd, "before the rope tightens and he
is dragged off? Here, I will."

"No, sir; I'll go," said Rogers, eagerly; and without waiting further
orders he began to lower himself down as actively as a monkey, now
hanging by his hands and dropping to a ledge below, now climbing
sidewise to get to a better place before descending again.

"Give the rope a turn round one of the blocks as soon as you get hold of
it, Rogers," cried Syd.

"Ay, ay, sir."

"Can you hold on, Strake?"

"Ay, my lad, I think I can," growled the boatswain. "Nuff to make a man
hold on with them sharks down below."

"The rope--the rope!" shouted Roylance from the derelict boat.

"Yes. We're trying," cried Syd. "Here, what are you doing? Don't
tighten that; you'll have Strake off the rock."

He yelled this through his hands as he saw Roylance stooping down and
hauling away at the rope hand over hand.

"Perhaps he knows what he's doing," thought Syd; and he turned his
attention to the boatswain and the man going to his help.

"Can any other man go down to assist?" he said. "I'm afraid that Rogers
will not be able to hold on, and the boat will go."

"You'd better go, Belton," whispered Terry. "I'll take command here.
Mustn't lose poor Roylance."

Syd turned upon him sharply, and was about to follow the suggestion,
when a shout came from Rogers.

"The rope--the rope!"

For a moment or two Syd stood there half-paralysed as he grasped th