As these cries thrilled him through and through, Humphrey was conscious in the darkness that the hands he heard rustling above him and dislodging stones, every fall of which brought forth a shriek from the wretch below, suddenly touched his, and then, as if spasmodically, leaped to his wrists, round which they fastened with a grip like steel. To Humphrey Armstrong it was all now like one hideous nightmare, during which he suffered, but could do nothing to free himself. The wretch's shrieks were growing fainter, and he clung in an inert way now, while someone seemed to be muttering above-- "I can do nothing more--I can do nothing more!" but the grip about Humphrey's wrists tightened, and two arms rested upon his hands and seemed to press them closer to the stones to which they clung. "Captain--captain! Are you there?" "Yes," came from close to Humphrey's face. "Forgive me, skipper, and help me up! I'll be faithful to you! I'll kill Black Mazzard!" "I can do nothing," said the buccaneer, hoarsely. "You are beyond my reach." "Then go and fetch the lads and a rope. Don't let me fall into this cursed, watery hell!" "If I quit my hold here, man, you will both go down; unless help comes, nothing can be done." "Then, call help! Call help now, captain, and I'll be your slave! Curse him for leaving me here! Where's Joe Thorpe?" "He was killed by Mazzard with a blow meant for me," said the buccaneer, slowly. "Curse him! Curse him!" shrieked the man. "Oh, captain, save me, and I'll kill him for you! He wants to be skipper; and I'll kill him for you if you'll only--Ah!" He uttered a despairing shriek, for as he spoke a sharp tearing sound was heard; the cloth he clung to gave way, and before he could get a fresh hold he was hanging suspended by the half-torn-off garb. He swung to and fro as he uttered one cry, and then there was an awful silence, followed by a plunge far below. The water seemed to hiss and whisper and echo in all directions, and the silence, for what seemed quite a long space, was awful. It was, however, but a few instants, and then there was a terrific splashing as if a number of horrible creatures had rushed to prey upon the fallen man, whose shrieks for help began once more. Appeals, curses, yells, piteous wails, followed each other in rapid succession as the water was beaten heavily. Then the cries were smothered, there was a gurgling sound, and the water whispered and lapped and echoed as it seemed to play against the stony walls of the place. A few moments and the cries recommenced, and between every cry there was the hoarse panting of a swimmer fighting hard for his life as he struck out.