Another of the comparatively clear intervals had come, and it was sufficient to show the great rocking-stone in motion and the figure that was swaying it. To and fro it went on its heels' keel, the man making frantic efforts to increase the depth to which it rose and fell. To and fro, to and fro it swayed, and every fall was deeper than the last, until at last it was swinging so that the side almost touched the rock beyond. The man thrust his shoulder beneath the shoulder of the moving mass of stone, pushing it back every time it bowed toward him. Never before had it swung like this. At last it staggered on to the edge of the cup on which it was poised--staggered, but recovered itself and slipped into its place again. It swung back and jerked out of the cup as before. One more swing, with the man flinging his whole weight upon it; for a second it trembled on the edge of the hollow fulcrum, and then--it failed to return. It toppled slowly over upon the granite rock. For a moment its descent was retarded by the man, who was crushed like a walnut beneath it, then with a crash of broken crags it fell over the brink of the height to the ground, fifteen feet beneath. Wesley left the girl with her hands pressed against her eyes and hurried to the fallen mass. A man's hand projected from beneath it--nothing more. But for this it would have been impossible to say that a body was beneath it. The mighty stone did not even lie flat on the ground; it had made a hollow for itself in the soft earth. It had buried itself to the depth of a foot, and beneath its base Pritchard lay buried. CHAPTER XXII