Chapter Six.
At an Awkward Corner.
“Hurrah!” yelled Joe, half mad with excitement. “It is long enough, and he has got it. He was trying if it was safe.”
“Hooroar!” shouted Hardock, hoarsely, for he was as excited as the boy. “Hold tight, my lad; don’t let him pull it out of your hands. But he won’t, for I’ve got it, too. Why, it’s all right, young Jollivet, and the old mine goblins had nothing to do with it, after all. We’ll soon have him up.”
“Yes, we’ll soon have him up,” cried Joe, hysterically, and he burst into a strange laugh. “I say, how he frightened us, though!”
And in those moments of relief from the tension they had felt, it seemed like nothing that the lad was two hundred feet down the terrible precipice, about to swing at the end of the rope which had played him so false but a short time before.
“He’s making the line fast round him, Sam. I can feel it quiver and jerk. Shout down to him to be sure and tie the knots tight.”
“Nay, nay, you let him be. He don’t want no flurrying. Trust him for that. He knows how to make himself fast.”
“Think so?” said Joe, hoarsely; and he felt the hands which held the rope grow wet.
“Nay, don’t want no thinking, my lad. He’ll manage all right.”