Was it the scream of gull, or piercing cry of some spirit of the air, that rang through his brain? or was it, indeed, the agonizing shriek of a woman?  He heard it plainly; but Harry never knew whether she had shrieked or not.  She was aware of nothing except that this unhappy man was perishing—­had, perhaps, already perished—­for her sake; through fear for her safety, and his wish not to give her offense.  She was on her knees upon the ledge, and craning over it with horror-stricken face the next instant, and could see him plainly.  His feet had fallen upon that very part of the old path which the storms of last winter had torn and jagged away.  A few jolting fragments of rock were all that was left of it—­insufficient even for a practiced cragsman to make his way along on either side.  His head—­she could not see his face—­was but a yard beneath her; but how could she get at him?

“I am here,” she cried.  “Be of good courage, Sir.”

She had nothing to offer in the way of help at the moment; but she was well aware of what vital importance it was that he should not lose heart.  She lay down with her face on the bare rock, and strove to reach him; but, even had her arm been long enough, he had no hand to spare to clasp her own.  The whole force of the gale was full upon her, and carried her hair to windward like a whip.

“Do not come too near the edge, brave girl,” cried Richard, beginning to be conscious of her efforts.  “Is there no rope nor ladder?”

“Yes,” answered the girl.  “Keep heart.  Do not look down.  I must be five minutes gone—­not more.”

She was up, and with the gate-key in her hand, ere she had done speaking.  Great Heaven! would that door never open?  How her trembling hands missed the keyhole; and when the key was in, how the rusty wards opposed its turning.  Then when the door was opened, it seemed as though the winds had husbanded their strength behind it for one wild sortie, with such fury did they rush out to beat her back.  But she struggled in somehow, and on across the howling waste of clifftop to a little hut of stone, which formed the covering of a well.  There, as she expected, she found a rope coiled up, which was used to draw up water in an iron cup, to gratify the curiosity of visitors as much as to quench their thirst; for it was strange, indeed, to meet with fresh water there, the presence of which, no doubt, had caused the place to be chosen for a fastness in old time.  With this she hurried back; and fixing one end firmly round the door-post, she looped the other in a slip-knot, and lowered it carefully to Richard.  “Put this beneath your arms,” she said; “the rope is strong and firmly fastened.  You must climb up by it, hand over hand.”

It was not so easy a task for the young artist as for a Gethin man; but he was strong and active; and where his chief difficulty lay, which was at the clifftop, the girl’s willing arms assisted him.

“You have saved my life, Harry,” were his first words, when he stood in safety.  “How shall I ever repay you?”