foam flew far like the spouting of a leviathan.

The subsidence exhibited the extent of the ravages of the surf. This
last escalade had not been ineffectual. The breakwater had suffered this
time. A long and heavy beam, torn from the first barrier, had been
carried over the second, and hurled violently upon the projecting rock
on which Gilliatt had stood but a moment before. By good fortune he had
not returned there. Had he done so, his death had been inevitable.

There was a remarkable circumstance in the fall of this beam, which by
preventing the framework rebounding, saved Gilliatt from greater
dangers. It even proved useful to him, as will be seen, in another way.

Between the projecting rock and the interior wall of the defile there
was a large interval, something like the notch of an axe, or the split
of a wedge. One of the extremities of the timber hurled into the air by
the waves had stuck fast into this notch in falling. The gap had become
enlarged.

Gilliatt was struck with an idea. It was that of bearing heavily on the
other extremity.

The beam caught by one end in the nook, which it had widened, projected
from it straight as an outstretched arm. This species of arm projected
parallel with the anterior wall of the defile, and the disengaged end
stretched from its resting place about eighteen or twenty inches. A good
distance for the object to be attained.

Gilliatt raised himself by means of his hands, feet, and knees to the
escarpment, and then turned his back, pressing both his shoulders
against the enormous lever. The beam was long, which increased its
raising power. The rock was already loosened; but he was compelled to
renew his efforts again and again. The sweat-drops rolled from his
forehead as rapidly as the spray. The fourth attempt exhausted all his
powers. There was a cracking noise; the gap spreading in the shape of a
fissure, opened its vast jaws, and the heavy mass fell into the narrow
space of the defile with a noise like the echo of the thunder.

The mass fell straight, and without breaking; resting in its bed like a
Druid cromlech precipitated in one piece.

The beam which had served as a lever descended with the rock, and
Gilliatt, stumbling forward as it gave way, narrowly escaped falling.

The bed of the pass at this part was full of huge round stones, and
there was little water. The monolith lying in the boiling foam, the
flakes of which fell on Gilliatt where he stood, stretch