For the full space of a minute it seemed as if the dome-like roof must be torn off, while, to add to the confusion and horror, the lantern was blown over and went out, leaving them in utter darkness.
At last, when the strength of the squall was partly spent, Uncle Richard, as he held on by the rope, shouted to Tom to come back; but in his excitement the boy heard nothing. He gave a fierce drag at the rope, crept sidewise beneath the shutter, and exerting all his strength tried to turn it over upon its hinges. But each effort was in vain, for the wind pressed it down.
“I can’t do it—I can’t do it,” he panted, as, pressing his feet against the rail of the gallery, he heaved and heaved with all his might, but only succeeded in getting his arms underneath a little.
Then the rope was dragged fiercely, and his uncle’s voice came through the opening overhead and to his left, but only in a confused murmur, though he felt what must be said; and in despair he was dragging out his hands, for the wind roared louder than ever, pressing him down against the structure with tremendous force. But all at once his hands were set free, for the slight raising of the shutter had been sufficient for the wind to get beneath, and with a rush it was swept by his face, just grazing his chin. There was a tremendous clap, and it was closed, while the boy thought of nothing but holding on as the wind once again pressed him against the building.
And now for a few moments he lost nerve, and clung desperately, feeling as if he must be plucked from his feeble hold and dashed down into the yard. Hammer and nails were forgotten, and he pressed his forehead against the woodwork, while the confusion caused by the roaring of the wind seemed to increase.
Then it was as if a great nerve communicating with safety had been touched, for he felt the rope jerked along sidewise, till it was in the jagged opening at the bottom left-hand corner of the broken shutter.
The feeling was electric, and sent a thrill through the boy.
“I’m all right, I can’t fall,” he muttered; and dragging out the hammer by its head, he felt for the first nail, then ran his hand up the side of the shutter for some distance, judged what would be a fair position for the nail, tapped it in a little way, and then began to drive with vigorous strokes, sometimes missing in the darkness, but nearly always getting good blows on the nail-head, and at last feeling that it was well home.
All this while he felt himself held tightly to the woodwork by the strain upon the cord, and the pressure of the wind:
Getting out another nail, he drove that in a foot lower, close to his chest; another minute, and a third nail was driven home, the exertion and excitement of doing something effectual driving away all thought of danger.