For as he was driven back the flooring seemed to crumble away beneath his feet; there was a terrible jerk, and he found himself hanging by his hands, his enemy clinging to him still, and the weight upon his muscles seeming as if it would tear them apart. In the hurry and excitement Humphrey could hardly comprehend his position for the moment. The next he understood it too well, for the stone which had given way fell with a hideous echoing noise, which came from a terrible distance below. Almost in total darkness, his hands cramped into the interval between two masses of broken stone which formed part of the _debris_ of the roof above, hanging over a hideous gulf at the full stretch of his arms, and with his adversary's hands fixed, talon-like, in garb and dress as he strove to clamber up him to the floor above. At every throe, as the man strove to grip Humphrey with his knees and climb up, some fragment of stone rushed down, to fall far beneath, splashing and echoing with a repetition of sounds that robbed him of such strength as remained to him, and a dreamy sensation came on apace. "It is the end," thought Humphrey, for his fingers felt as if they were yielding, the chilling sensation of paralysis increased, and in another minute he knew that he must fall, when the grip upon him increased, and the man who clung uttered a hoarse yell for help. "Quick, for God's sake! Quick!" he shrieked. "I'm letting go!" But at that instant something dark seemed to come between him and the gleaming wet stone away above him in the roof, and then there was quite an avalanche of small stones gliding by. It was the scoundrel's companion come at the call for help, thought Humphrey; and he clung still in silence, wondering whether it was too late as his strained eye-balls glared upward. "Where are you?" came in a husky voice. It was to save his life; but though Humphrey recognised the voice, he could not speak, for his tongue and throat were dry. "Are you here? Hold on!" cried the voice again; and then there was the sound of someone feeling about, but dislodging stones, which kept rattling down and splashing below. "Where are you!" cried the voice above Humphrey; but still he could not reply. His hands were giving way, and he felt that his whole energy must be devoted to the one effort of clinging to the last ere he was plunged down into that awful gulf. But the man who clung to him heard the hoarsely-whispered question, and broke out into a wild series of appeals for help--for mercy--for pity. "For God's sake, captain!" he yelled, "save me--save me! It was Black Mazzard! He made me come! Do you hear! Help! I can't hold no longer! I'm falling! Help! Curse you--help!"