“Jem, Jem, don’t talk like that!” cried Don angrily. “Do you think it possible to go down?”
“Well, Mas’ Don, I think the best way down would be with our old crane and the windlass tackle.”
“Do you dare climb down?”
“Ye-es, I think so, Mas’ Don; only arn’t there no other way?”
“Not if we want to save them down at the village.”
“Well, but do we want to save ’em, Mas’ Don? They’re all werry well, but—”
“And have been very kind to us, Jem. We must warn them of danger.”
“But, lookye here, Mas’ Don, s’pose it arn’t danger. Pretty pair o’ Bristol noodles we shall look, lying down at the bottom here, with all our legs and arms broke for nothing at all.”
Don stood gazing at his companion, full of perplexity.
“Think it is real danger, Mas’ Don?”