There was, however, no time to deliberate, and it was, perhaps, better for Gray that such was the case, for his mind was not in that state to reason itself out of nervous apprehensions.
A sharp tug of the rope settled his cogitations, and clinging with his hands to the angle of the roof, he placed his leg round the corner. It was then a moment or two before he could find, with his foot, the coping stones on the other side, and those few moments seemed to him hours of intense agony. At length he gained a hold with his foot, and rubbing his very face against the roof for fear of overbalancing himself in the outer direction, he contrived to get round.
For a moment a deadly sickness came over him, when he had accomplished the, to him, difficult feat; then he felt as if he could have nothing else to fear, and a feeling of congratulation sprang up in his mind, that after all he might not only escape, but preserve the greater part of the large sum he had about him.
CHAPTER LVI.
The Robbers.—The Drugged Wine.—Visions of the Mind Diseased.
The path over the house tops now continued for upwards of a quarter of an hour, without presenting any very extraordinary difficulties to Jacob Gray, and he was about to congratulate himself that really the worst was past, when the rope suddenly slackened, and in a few moments his guide was by his side.
“You can jump a bit, I suppose?” he said.
“Jump? Jump?”
“Yes, jump. What the devil do you repeat my words for?”
“I—am no greater jumper,” said Gray. “Where am I to jump?”