f this sort of thing goes on,"
said he, "but it's straight enough sailing."

"Would it be better," suggested Jeffreys, "to go to the top again and
get down by the Sharpenholme track?"

"We shouldn't get home till midnight if we did; besides, I don't know
the way. We're all right this way if we look sharp."

The wind had now increased to a tempest, and beat against the side of
the great cliff with a sound like the sea breaking on an iron-bound
shore. They could scarcely hear one another speak; and poor Julius's
whines were drowned in the great clamour.

"Do you mind my going first?" said Percy; "I know the path better than
you."

Jeffreys nodded, and they started. The first step they took on that
ledge threatened for a moment to be their last. The wind, gathering
fury every moment, beat Percy to his knees, and nearly sent Jeffreys
staggering over the ledge.

"We shall have to crawl," said Percy. "It's no use waiting. The wind
and sleet are going to make a night of it, and we shall gain nothing by
waiting."

The start was begun again--this time cautiously and on all-fours. Even
so the wind seemed once or twice as if it would sweep them from the
ledge. Yard by yard they crawled on. The driving mist fell like a pall
over the mountain, and in a few minutes they could not even see a yard
in front of them. Had the wind blown crosswise, or in any other way
than that in which it came, they would have been swept off before twenty
yards were accomplished. As it was, they were almost pinned to the
cliff by the fury of the blast.

They must have proceeded a quarter of the way across, and had reached a
spot where the ledge rose slightly. Even up this slight incline, with
the mist freezing under them, it was impossible to crawl; and Percy,
drawing himself cautiously to his feet, attempted to stand.

As he did so, the wind, gathering itself into a furious blast, caught
him and hurled him against the rocky wall. He recoiled with a sharp cry
of pain, and next moment would have fallen into the abyss beneath, had
not Jeffreys' strong arm caught him and held him. His legs were
actually off the ledge, and for a moment it seemed as if both he and his
protector were doomed. But with a tremendous effort the prostrate
Jeffreys swung him back onto the track.

"Are you hurt?" he called.

"My arm," said Percy. "I'm afraid I can't get on. I'll try."

But the attempt only called up a fresh exclamation of pain.

"We m