“That’ll do. If there’s much more of that all the hoops will be torn off. Haul up a bit. You see I must go, sir.”
The barrel was raised a little once more, and as soon as this was done Griggs turned to Wilton and Bourne, who held the rope fastened about his breast.
“Ready?” he said.
“Yes,” was the reply.
“Keep it just tight enough to feel me, but not enough to hinder me as I get down from stone to stone. I don’t mean to if I can help it, but be prepared for a slip.”
The next minute they could see their companion descending from block to block, his form growing fainter each few seconds, during which he made no strain upon the rope, which was steadily drawn through the holders’ hands, the doctor having stepped behind the others to form a third, while Chris and Ned lay down upon their chests so as to watch the brave fellow’s descent.
“All easy going,” said Griggs, his voice coming up out of the gloom, and sounding hollow and strange.
The rope glided down, and a strange, harsh, rasping sound was made as the adventurer lowered himself from stone to stone till he must have been half-way down, when all at once there was a violent tug at the rope, a crash as of something giving way, and directly after a deep, echoing roar as of a heavy body plunging into deep water far below.