“Drown the rascal!”
“He can’t escape!”
“Lower the rope!”
“No, cut it—cut it!” roared old Harmer. “D—n the rope, so we capture the villain.”
With right good-will, several began to cut and hack the rope.
Jonas felt the rope’s vibration, and shut his eyes.
“It’s all over, now,” he said. “D—n the colonel, and all Darlington put together. I wish I was safe in London again. If this is the grand reward the colonel promised me, confusion to him.”
Jonas had a passing desire to say his prayers, but he was such a thoughtless knave that he had forgotten them long ago.
“That’s it, that’s it,” cried many voices.
“Help! murder! thieves! cut-throats! help—help!” shouted a dozen voices.