“Yes, I’ll go!” cried Saxe excitedly.
“One moment, my lad. You must recollect what the task means.”
“To go down and help Melchior.”
“Yes; and taking the rope from round your waist to tie it round his for me to draw him up first. Have you the courage to do that!”
Saxe was silent.
“You see, it means staying down there alone in that place till I can send you back the rope. There must be no shrinking, no losing your head from scare. Do you think you have the courage to do this coolly!”
Saxe did not speak for a few moments, and Dale could see that his face looked sallow and drawn till he had taken a long, deep breath, and then he said quickly.
“No, I haven’t enough courage to do it properly; but I’m going down to do it as well as I can.”
“God bless you, my boy!” cried Dale earnestly, as he grasped Saxe’s hand. “There, lay down your axe while I fasten on the rope, and then I’ll drive mine down into this crack and let the rope pass round it. I can lower you down more easily then. Ah!”
He ejaculated this last in a tone full of disappointment, for as he suddenly raised his hands to his breast, he realised the absence of that which he had before taken for granted—the new rope hanging in a ring over his shoulder.