"Hold tight, sir," he said; "and if--if--you find him, sling the rope round him and give the word." Leycester nodded, held up his hand, and the next moment was swinging in the air. Slowly and steadily, inch by inch, they lowered him down the awful depths amidst a death-like silence. Suddenly his voice broke it, coming up to them in one word-- "Stop!" Breathless they waited, then they felt the rope jerk and they pulled up. A great sob of relief rather than a cheer rose as he appeared, bearing on his arm the slight figure of poor Frank. Gently but swiftly they unwound the ropes and laid him down at Leycester's feet, and the old man knelt beside him. Leycester did not speak, but stood panting and pale. The old man looked up. "Give me a hand, boys," he said, slowly and sternly. "He is alive!" "Alive!" said Leycester, hoarsely. "Alive," repeated the old man. "Yes, sir, you have saved him, but----" Leycester followed them down the cliff, followed them to the inn. Then, as the thin, wasted figure disappeared within the house, he sank on to the bench at the door, and covered his face with his hands. Was it an awful dream?--would he awake presently and find himself at home, and this dreadful nightmare vanished? Suddenly he felt a hand upon his arm, and looking up, saw a staid, elderly man, with "doctor" written plainly on his face. "I beg your pardon, sir," he said. "You know this poor lad?" Leycester nodded. "So I understood from a word you let drop on the cliff. As that is the case, perhaps you would not mind breaking it to his friends?" "His friends?" asked Leycester, mechanically. The doctor nodded. "They are staying at that cottage," he said, pointing. "They should be here at once." Leycester rose, dazed for a moment; then he said, in a low voice: "I understand. Yes, I will do it." Without another word, he strode off. It was no great distance, but he had not to traverse it, short as it was. At the turn of the road a slight, girlish figure came flitting toward him. It was Stella. He stopped irresolute, but at that moment she had no thought even for him. Without hesitating, she came toward him, her face pale, her hands outstretched. "Leycester! where is he?" Without thinking he put his arm round her and she rested on his breast for a moment. "Stella, my Stella! be brave." She uttered a little inarticulate cry, and hid her face for a moment, then she raised her head, and looked at him. "Take me to him!" she moaned, "take me to him. Oh my poor boy! my poor boy!" In silence he led her to the inn, and she passed up the stairs. The fishermen gathered round the door drew back and turned their eyes from him with respectful sympathy, and he stood looking out at the sea. The minutes passed, years they seemed to him, then he heard the doctor's voice. "Will you go up-stairs, my lord?" Leycester started, and slowly ascended the stairs.