e way, or
whether I should be drawn down.

We were looking straight into each other's eyeballs, lit by the
guttering candle, as, with trial after trial, exerting the great
muscular strength in his arms, Tom climbed higher and higher till he
could touch my hands, my arms, and then hold on by my neck, when he
stopped panting, just as, in his convulsive efforts, his teeth met
through the candle, ground through the wick, and the upper portion fell
far below into the torrent to leave us in that awful darkness.

"Hold fast, Mas'r Harry!" Tom hissed in my ear. "Crook your hands.
No! Clasp 'em together, to give me a foothold."

"Tom!" I groaned, "I'm slipping. I can hold on no longer."

"A moment--a moment, Mas'r Harry," he cried.

I clasped my fingers together, when, bending his body into a half
circle, he got one foot into my hands, forced himself rapidly up,
staying my downward progress of inch after inch, as the weight of his
body pressed me to the rock; but as he turned to hold me in his turn, it
was just as I felt myself going faster and faster, gliding head
downwards towards the torrent.

Another struggle, and, wet and bleeding, I was by Tom's side, for him to
hold tightly by one of my hands, as with the other he felt his way along
slowly for some yards, when once more we sank upon the rocky floor, to
lie panting, our breath drawn in hysterical sobs, and a darkness around
that was too fearful even to contemplate.

Our despair was such that we could find no words; but at last Tom said,
in a voice that I could hardly hear for the roar of the torrent, which
seemed to be here condensed by the narrow passage:

"Mas'r Harry, I'll go first; follow close behind, and crawl."

His words gave me energy, and we set off, crawling slowly, now upwards,
now downwards, feeling every foot of the way, lest some new peril should
lie in our path. The roar of the torrent rose and fell as we crept
away, till by slow degrees it became fainter, fading to quite a soft
murmur; but still no new horror assailed us. The dread darkness was
forgotten in the hope that shed a light into our hearts, as foot by foot
we progressed through what was sometimes a narrow passage, sometimes a
wide vault, as we could tell by the echoing of our voices from its
arched roof. In one of these, too, our ears were saluted by the shrieks
of birds and the rushing of wings--a fact which told us we could not be
very far from the light of day; but progress w