There was no reply.
“Can you hear what I say?” cried Gwyn.
Still no reply; and, feeling that he might safely leave him, Gwyn hesitated for a moment or two as to whether he should go up or down.
The latter seemed to be the quicker way, and, after descending a step or two, he threw arms and legs round the sides of the ladder, and let himself slide to the platform.
Here he stood for a moment to look up and see Joe hanging as he had left him. Then, stooping down, he entered the adit, out of which the clanging sound of the huge pump went on volleying, while the water kept up its hissing and rushing sound.
“Hardock!” he shouted, with his hands to his lips, and the cry reverberated in the narrow passage; but, though he shouted again and again, his voice did not penetrate, for the sound of the pumping and rushing of water, and the boy had to make his way right to where Hardock was anxiously watching the working of the machinery; and as Gwyn reached him, he was once more holding his lanthorn down to see how much the water had fallen.
The man gave a violent start as a hand was laid upon his shoulder.
“Come back!” shouted Hardock, to make himself heard, and he gazed wonderingly at the boy, whose face was ghastly. “Here, don’t you go and say young Master Joe has fallen.”
Gwyn placed his lips to the foreman’s ear.
“Can’t fall yet. Send word—ropes—top of ladder at once. Danger.”