"Mother! Mother!" cried the little boy, in terror.
"There, there! It's all right, Jack," said the buxom woman, and then, in a burst of womanly wrath, "What d'you want to make the child cry for? You're a pretty man, you are!"
"Better he should cry now than in the outer darkness. Let him seek safety while there is yet time."
The officer measured the gap with a practised eye. It was a good eight feet across, and the fellow could push him over before he could steady himself. It would be a desperate thing to attempt. He tried soothing words once more.
"See here, my lad, you've carried this joke too far. Why should you wish to injure us? Just shin up and get that wedge out, and we will agree to say no more about it."
Another rending snap came from above.
"By George, the hawser is going!" cried Stangate. "Here! Stand aside! I'm coming over to see to it."
The workman had plucked the hammer from his belt, and waved it furiously in the air.
"Stand back, young man! Stand back! Or come—if you would hasten your end."
"Tom, Tom, for God's sake, don't spring! Help! Help!"