“There, she’s fast enough now,” came down the great granite speaking-tube. “I’m going to send the line down, lad. She’s a gashly stiff un, but she was the best I could get. Make a good knot and hitch in her, and sit in it; I’ll soon have you up.”
“All right!” shouted Will; but his voice sounded a little hoarse, and his hands grew moister than before.
“Below there! down she comes!” said Josh; and, taking the ring of new hempen rope, freshly stained with cutch to tan it and make it water-resisting, he planted one foot upon the loop he had secured over the iron bar, and threw the coil down into the pit, so that the weight might tighten out the stiff hemp, uncoil the rings, and make it hang straight.
The rope fell with a curious whistling crackling noise, tightening against the fisherman’s foot; and the knot would have jumped off but for his precaution. Then it stopped with a jerk, and Josh shouted again:
“There you are, lad! See her?”
“Ye–es,” came up faintly.
“Well; lay hold and make her fast round you. Hold hard a minute till I’ve hauled up a fathom or two.”
He stooped down, keeping his foot on the bar the while, took hold of the rope, and hauled it up a little way.
“There you are, my lad; and now look sharp. I want you out of this unked place.”
There was no answer, and Josh waited listening.