Hardock waited to hear no more, but dragged at the wire which formed the rough temporary signal to the engine-house, and the great beam of the pump stopped its work at once, when the silence was profound, save for a murmur high up over them at the mouth of the shaft.
“What is it there?” came in a familiar voice, which sounded dull and strange as it was echoed from the dripping walls.
“Help!” shouted Gwyn. “Long ropes to the head of the outside ladders.”
“Right!” came back.
“What’s wrong?” came down then in another voice.
“Joe Jollivet—danger,” shouted Gwyn, stepping back to reply. “Now, come on!” he cried to Hardock; and he led the way along the adit from which, short as had been the time since the pump ceased working, the water had run off.
No more was said as they hurried along as fast as the sloping position necessary allowed; and on stepping out on to the platform, Gwyn looked up in fear and trembling, lest the silken cord should have given way, and fully anticipating that the ladder would be vacant.
Hardock uttered a groan, but Gwyn had already begun to climb.
“What are you going to do, lad?” shouted the man, excitedly.
“Go up and hold him on.”