“There, I told you so,” cried Fred. “I can draw yards and yards in, and yards and—”
He was suiting the action to the word, hauling more and more of the rope towards him, when there was an end to the rattling sound, and one dull flap.
“What is it, Fred?”
“I—I’m not sure.”
“I am,” cried Scarlett, in agony. “Why, you’ve dragged at the rope till it has come untied.”
“I’m afraid so,” faltered Fred, in a husky voice.
“And nobody saw us come here,” cried Scarlett. “Oh, Fred, Fred, we shall be buried alive!”