I said nothing, only smiled; and Carruthers turned the corner at a run, followed closely by the hunch-back.
"Buck up, old man," he cried, throwing off his coat, "and I'll get him up in a jiffy."
"No, I'm going."
They looked at me, Mr. Neville very white, and Carruthers almost angrily.
"Don't talk rot, Splosh, of course I shall go."
"You will do nothing of the kind; he is my servant, my countryman, and I'm going. Quick, don't waste time talking, lay on to the rope, you and Mr. Neville, while you," I said to the hunchback, "be ready to pull him over the edge."
I slipped my right foot into the noose.
"Now hold on, I'm going, I'll yell when you are to pull him up; let me down slowly."
I did not look at them again, until I had lowered myself over the edge, and then it was but a fleeting glance, just long enough to smile to them, and notice their set mouths.
They lowered away slowly, almost too slowly for me, as it was a most unpleasant rock to look at, and I did not care to glance down more than was absolutely necessary. It was also an unpleasant feeling to swing in the air, with just a thin rope between you and eternity; however, little by little I went down, keeping myself away from the cliff with my left hand, and untied foot.