Melchior leaned over to him and shouted in his ear, he having divined the boy’s thoughts from his actions.
“No, herr, no—not here. There is one place where, with a hammer and plenty of iron spikes to drive in the cracks of the rock, we might perhaps get to the top; but it would be impossible without. We should want ten times as much rope too.”
“Is the water going down now?” shouted back Saxe, after a pause.
Melchior looked down and shook his head.
“Will it come with a sudden rush, like a river?”
“Oh no. It may rise very quickly, but not all at once. Of course it all comes from the lake, and the waters of the lake swell from hundreds of streams and falls. No, herr, it will not come down with a rush.”
“But it is rising very fast,” said Dale, who had caught part of their conversation. “Are we on the highest part that we can reach!”
“Yes, herr; and I am sorry I have brought you in. I try to be a perfect guide, but there is no such thing. I ought to have been prepared for another rise after the storm we had. Forgive me.”
“You think, then, that the water will come up above where we are sitting.”
The guide nodded, and pointed to a dimly-seen mark upon the wall, quite level with their heads.