“Thank God, she is safe,” said Hawkstone.

“Look, look!” cried Barton, catching hold of Hawkstone in alarm.  “Look how fast the waves are coming.  They will be on us directly.”

“Yes,” said Hawkstone, “there will be barely time to get the two of us up unless they make great haste.  I don’t know why they don’t lower at once.  Something must have gone wrong with the rope, but they will do their best, that’s certain.”

They waited in anxiety amounting to horror, as wave after wave, larger and louder, roared at them, and rushed round the rocks on which they were standing.  Presently down came the basket, plunging into the retreating wave.

“Now, then, sir, in with you,” said Hawkstone.

“No, you go first.  I will not go.  It is my fault you are here.”

“Nonsense, sir, there’s no time for talk.”

“I will not go without you.  Let us both get in together.”

“The rope will hardly bear two.  Besides, I doubt if there is strength enough above to pull us up.  Get in, get in.”

Barton still hesitated.  “I am afraid to leave you alone.  Promise me if I go that you will not—.  I can’t say what I mean, but if anything happened to you I should be the cause of it.”

“For shame, sir, shame.  I guess what you mean, but I have not forgotten who made me, though I have been sorely tried.  In with you at once.”  He suddenly lifted Barton up in his arms, and almost threw him into the basket, raising a loud shout, upon which the basket again ascended the cliff more rapidly than on the first occasion.  Hawkstone fell upon his knees at the base of the cliff, while the waves roared at him like wild beasts held back from their victim.  He was alone with them and with the God in whom his simple faith taught him to trust as being mightier than all the waves.  Down came the basket with great rapidity, and Hawkstone had a hard fight before he could drag it out from the waves and get into it.  Drenched from head to foot, and cold and trembling with excitement and grief, he again shouted, and the basket once more ascended.  He remembered no more.  A sudden faintness overcame him, and the first thing he remembered was feeling himself borne along on a kind of extemporary litter, and hearing kind voices saying that he was “coming to,” and would soon be all right again.

Luckily there was no scandal.  It was thought quite natural that Hawkstone should be with Nelly, and Barton was supposed to have been there by accident.  Of course, we knew what the real state of the case was, and were glad that Barton had got a good fright; but we kept our own counsel.

CHAPTER VII.—­CONCLUSION.