The strong, gnarled branches of the ivy afforded such a firm support to the feet that Sep, who, like most ne’er-do-weels, had had a short spell of the sea, found no difficulty in climbing up, by the aid of the rope, very quickly.
Then they hissed out “All right!” to Amos, watching below, and taking the rope with them descended to the scene of their search.
“Why doesn’t Goodhare come too?” asked Rees, in a low voice. “He could get up quite as well as you, and we shall want all the help we can.”
Sep uttered his mincing little laugh.
“Because our friend prefers leaving the risk to us, and doesn’t consider that sharing terms need begin until the profits roll in,” said he.
Sep had the blessing of shrewdness and the curse of never being able to profit by it.
“What risk?”
“The risk of being found out, and the risk of losing our limbs or our lives. If Lord Hugh really did lose his life down there, you know, why shouldn’t we?”
“And supposing you and I choose to say—‘No risk, no profit’?”
“Then he would choose to tell the earl all about it, and you and I would look very small.”