Suddenly a hand gripped his elbow, and he found Archie Croft beside him,
yelling excitedly.

"Don't let him go!" he bawled. "It's madness--sheer madness!"

Bertie turned sharply. Close to him, his head bare, and clothed still in
evening dress, stood Charlie Cleveland. A coil of rope lay at his feet.
He had knotted one end firmly round his body.

"Listen, you fellows!" he cried. "I'm going to have a shot at it. Pay
out the rope as I go. Count up to five hundred, and if it is limp, pull
it in again. If it holds, make it fast! Got me?"

He turned at once to a flight of iron steps that led off the wall down
into the awful, seething water. But someone, Fisher, sprang suddenly
after him and held him back. Charlie wheeled instantly. The light of a
lantern striking on his face revealed it, unafraid, even laughing.

"You silly ass!" he cried. "Hang on to the rope instead of behaving like
a fellow's grandmother!"

"You shan't do it!" Fisher said, holding him fast. "It is certain
death!"

"All right," Charlie yelled back. "I choose death, then. I prefer it to
sitting still and seeing others die. My life is my own. I choose to risk
it."

He looked at Fisher closely for a moment, then, with one immense effort,