Leslie, as he watched him, felt a curious premonition of danger, and gathered himself together involuntarily, ready for a spring. The danger he anticipated was not long in making its demand upon him, for all at once there was a tremendous gust, as if an atmospheric wave had risen up to spring at the man standing on high as if daring the fury of the tempest; and in spite of Van Heldre's sturdy frame he completely lost his balance. He staggered for a moment, and, but for his presence of mind in throwing himself down, he would have been swept headlong down the swift slope to destruction. As it was he managed to cling to the rocks, as the wind swept furiously over, and checked his downward progress for the moment. This would have been of little avail, for, buffeted by the wind, he was gliding slowly down, and but for Leslie's quickly rendered aid, it would only have been a matter of moments before he had been hurled down upon the rocks below. Even as he staggered, Leslie mastered the peculiar feeling of inertia which attacked him, and, creeping rapidly over the intervening space, made a dash at the fluttering overcoat, caught it, twisted it rapidly, and held on. Then for a space neither moved, for it was as if the storm was raging with redoubled fury at the chance of its victim being snatched away. The lull seemed as if it would never come; and when it did Leslie felt afraid to stir lest the fragile material by which he supported his companion should give way. In a few moments, however, he was himself, and shouting so as to make his voice plainly heard--for, close as he was, his words seemed to be swept away as uttered--he uttered a few short clear orders, which were not obeyed. "Do you hear?" he cried again, "Mr Van Heldre--quick!" Still there was no reply by voice or action, and it seemed as if the weight upon Leslie's wrists was growing heavier moment by moment. He yelled to him now, to act; and what seemed to be a terrible time elapsed before Van Heldre said hoarsely-- "One moment: better now. I felt paralysed." There was another terrible pause, during which the storm beat upon them, the waves thundered at the base of the rock, and even at that height there came a rain of spray which had run up the face of the rock and swept over to where they lay. "Now, quick!" said Van Heldre, as he lay face downward, spread-eagled, as a sailor would term it, against the face of the sloping granite. What followed seemed to be a struggling scramble, a tremendous effort, and then with the wind shrieking round them, Van Heldre reached the level, and crept slowly to the shelter of the parapet. "Great heavens!" panted Leslie, as he lay there exhausted, and gazed wildly at his companion. "What an escape!" There was no reply. Leslie thought that Van Heldre had fainted, for his eyes were nearly closed, and his face seemed to be drawn. Then he realised that his lips were moving slowly, as if in prayer.