on some object with his poor scratched hands, he was likely to be
dashed downward.

Fortune was, however, kind in that respect, for there chanced to be a
nice projection of rock, somewhat in the shape of a horn, just in the
right place for Claude to seize upon, and which would help sustain
his weight. Hugh knew very well, though, that most of the burden
would fall upon him; and he, therefore, prepared to accept it.

"Here, reach out with your left hand, Claude, and take hold of this
rock. Your feet are both safely anchored on the ledge. Keep up
your grit, and everything will be all right yet. Do you understand
what I'm telling you, Claude?"

"Yes, I do, Hugh," chattered the other, for his teeth were rattling
together in a way that reminded Hugh of the "Bones" at the end of a
minstrel line; if he had ever seen a Spanish stage performance he
would have said they made a sound like castanets in the hands of
the senorita who gave the national Castilian dance.

Claude really managed to carry out that part of the task with a fair
amount of success. His other hand still gripped the bush, which
continued to gradually give way under the long and severe strain.

Hugh braced himself. He had taken as firm a bold as was possible, and
had his other arm thrown around Claude.

"Steady, now, Claude, it's almost gone. When you feel it give way,
try and make use of your right hand to find some other rocky point
where you can hold on. I think there's one such on the other side