Saxe dropped, but no farther than the sill of the entrance, where Melchior was able to hold him, while Dale reached over and gripped the boy by the belt and hauled him in.
“Oh, Melchior!” cried Dale indignantly; “I thought I could have trusted you to secure a rope.”
“But I did—I did, herr!” cried the man passionately. “I could have staked my life upon that rope being secure.”
“I spoke to you at the time about it not seeming safe.”
“The herr said the rock did not look secure, not the rope. The rock has not come down.”
“It is enough for me that the rope came down. Another instant, and that poor lad would have lost his life.”
“Yes, herr; but we saved him. I cannot understand it.”
“Has the rope broken?” said Dale, as it was hauled in.
“No, herr,” said Melchior, as he examined the rope in the darkness; “and, see, the loop is here and the knots still fast!”
“It is very strange,” said Dale.