“Then make fast that knot, sir. Quick, at once!”
“Yes, father,” said the boy, as a thrill of energy ran through him, and he felt as if he could once more do something toward relieving himself from the strange feeling of inertia which had fettered every sense.
“You get up higher,” growled Hardock, “and hold on, my lad.”
“No. Keep where you are,” cried Gwyn, whose voice now sounded firm. “If I leave him, he’ll go.”
“Nay, you go on; I’ll take care o’ that,” said Hardock. “Up with you!”
“Keep down, I say,” cried Gwyn, fiercely.
“Are you ready?” shouted the Colonel.
“In another minute, father,” cried Gwyn; and, drawing out one arm, he made a snatch at the rope, drew it from Hardock’s hand, and then hauled it higher by using his teeth as well as his right-hand.
“Better let me come, my lad.”
“No,” said Gwyn, shortly.