“Pull up, Val—pull! I’m going down.”
My hands darted one over the other, the slack seeming endless as I heard a low rushing sound mingled with the splashing of falling stones. Then there was a sharp jerk at my wrists, and the rope began to glide through my hands till I let one leg drop from where my foot rested against the edge of the shaft-mouth, and quick as thought flung it round the rope so that my foot and ankle formed a check; with the result that I was nearly jerked off my seat before the rope was stopped.
“Ah!” came from below, and I heard no falling of stones now; but there was a splashing and dripping sound which for the moment I did not understand. Once more I thought all was over, for the rope seemed to slacken; but hope came again.
“Pull up steadily,” came in firmer tones; and, though I could not see, I supposed that Denham had drawn his feet from the water and was trying to climb up the rope. I knew it was so directly, for he spoke.
“I’ve got the rope well under my arms,” he panted out, “and if you keep hauling gently, I think perhaps I can climb up the side; but you must be ready for a slip. Can you pass it round anything?”
“Yes,” I said; and as the rope was eased I got both legs back into their position again, thus hindering my power of hauling dreadfully, but guarding against the rope being dragged down again rapidly by passing it over my right leg and under the left.
“Are you sure you can hold on if I slip?” said Denham now.
“Yes, if you come slowly. The rope’s strong enough, and I’ll get it up a yard at a time, so that’s all the distance you can pull.”
“Ah!” he cried; “then I can use both hands, and climb with more confidence. Now then, I’m coming up.”
“Ready!” I shouted; and I toiled on with the perspiration moistening my hands as I steadily hauled with my right and left alternately, gaining a foot with one and making it secure over and under my legs with the other. All the while I could hear him painfully climbing as if gaining confidence with every yard he came nearer the surface.