“Look out!” At this moment a larger wave than usual took both boys off their legs, and dashed them with considerable force against the cliff. Frank seized Ruthven, and assisted him to regain his feet. “Now, old fellow, let me put you on your back. I will lie on mine and tow you along. Don't struggle; don't move; above all, don't try and lift your head, and don't mind if a little water gets in your mouth. Now!” For a moment Ruthven felt himself under water, and had to make a great effort to restrain himself from struggling to come to the surface. Then he felt himself lying on his back in the water, supported by Frank. The motion was not unpleasant as he rose and fell on the waves, although now and then a splash of water came over his face, and made him cough and splutter for breath. He could see nothing but the blue sky overhead, could feel nothing except that occasionally he received a blow from one or other of Frank's knees, as the latter swam beneath him, with Ruthven's head on his chest. It was a dreamy sensation, and looking back upon it afterwards Ruthven could never recall anything that he had thought of. It seemed simply a drowsy pleasant time, except when occasionally a wave covered his face. His first sensation was that of surprise when he felt the motion change, and Frank lifted his head from the water and said, “Stand up, old fellow. Thank God, here we are, safe!” Frank had indeed found the journey easier than that which he had before undertaken with the others. He had scarcely tried to progress, but had, after getting sufficiently far out to allow the tide to take him round the point, drifted quietly. “I owe my life to you, Frank. I shall never forget it, old fellow.” “It's been a close thing,” Frank answered; “but you owe your life as much to your own coolness as to me, and above all, Ruthven, don't let us forget that we both owe our lives to God.” “I sha'n't forget it,” Ruthven said quietly, and they stood for a few minutes without speaking. “Now, what had we better do? Shall we start to run home?” “I can't,” Frank laughed, for he had nothing on but his trousers. These he had slipped on after the return from his first trip, pushing the rest of his things into a crevice in the rocks as high up as he could reach. “You had better take off your things, Ruthven, and lay them out to dry in the sun. The boat will be here in half an hour. I wonder how Childers is getting on!” “I think he will be safe,” Ruthven said. “The tide will not rise high enough for there to be much danger of his being washed off.” “I don't think so either,” Frank agreed, “or I would try and swim back again; but I really don't think I could get round the point against the tide again.” In half an hour a boat rowing four oars was seen approaching. “They are laying out well,” Ruthven said. “They couldn't row harder if they were rowing a race. But had it not been for you, old fellow, they would have been too late, as far as I am concerned.”