The man made no reply for a few moments. Then, in an altered tone:
“Have you found any way out?”
“No. It is a regular trap; but I was thirsty, and I came down to drink. Fell half the way,” said Nic, holding up a bleeding hand.
“I went down the same way,” said the convict quietly.
“Then there is a way out?” said Nic sharply.
“Yes, over the brink yonder.”
“Oh yes, I found that out,” said Nic, with a laugh; “but I don’t want to break my neck. How did you get out?”
“Over there,” said the convict quietly. “It requires a steady head, but you can creep along a narrow ledge, and get back to the top here, three or four hundred yards farther on. I did not find it out till I was nearly starved to death.”
“Poor old chap,” said Nic quietly. “I say, this sounds more like you.”
“Does it? Did any one see you coming?”