“I don’t like the idea of your going down, Griggs,” said Chris.
“Forward there,” cried the doctor from below, as he finished a long look at the edge of the cliff, sweeping it with his glass and wondering whether they could reach the tableland in which the depression stood like a chasm split in a blue, rocky desert, “Yes,” he said sharply, changing the course of his thoughts, “we must explore the other side of this great chasm, but let’s finish one side first.”
He was content to let Chris take the lead, and his friends smilingly gave way, humouring him, as they called it to themselves, Bourne good-temperedly taking it all as a matter of course, and feeling in nowise jealous on behalf of his own son. Wilton had on one occasion said something about favouritism, but Bourne had only laughed.
“Oh, let the boys alone,” he said, “and let them settle the supremacy between them. That will be all right. Chris is as honest and frank as the day. You must have seen that.”
“Seen what?”
“Why, that the boy’s generous at heart. He bullies Ned horribly sometimes, and then afterwards he seems to repent and behaves like a lamb, while Ned turns dog.”
So it was that in this matter of the exploration Chris led with his companion, and Griggs followed next, as if he were their henchman, while the three friends came last.
The ascents were made with spirit till all stood in the chamber at the back of which the opening led into the side of the square pit, and here, while the doctor thoughtfully turned over and examined some of the remains still left, Griggs lit the lanthorn he had brought, and Ned tied one end of a hide-rope to it, ready for the lowering down, while Chris had stepped through the hole and stood on the broad ledge at the foot of the rough projections in the stone wall that acted as steps.
“It must have been awful,” he said aloud suddenly, as he stood peering up through the twilight at the remains of the piled-up stones at the top.
“What must have been awful?” asked Wilton, stepping out to his side.