(You will remember, no doubt, that I have already told you that Jack was a very clever athlete.)
He replied after a silence of a minute or so, letting his words drop slowly: “I should have thought but little of it yesterday morning. I am sure I don’t know if I can do it now. I’ll try.”
“I have one lozenge left,” I said; “take it before you try;” and I handed him the lozenge.
“I’ll take my share of it,” he answered, “but not yours too.”
“Now be reasonable, Jack,” said I; “my life as well [263] ]as yours depends on your cutting that wire. If the lozenge helps you to cut it, don’t you see that it is best for us both that you should have it.”
“Very well,” he replied; “I believe you are right; give it me,” and he ate it without more ado. And then after feeling for his knife he began to climb.
Presently it became clear that he could not get up the pole without some protection to his knees. I cut off the sleeves of my coat and we slipped them up over his legs; they fitted him so tightly that no fastening was needed.
Then he began to climb again with more success, but such was his weakness that it seemed several times as if he would have to give over the attempt. At last he reached the top, and after hanging for a while to rest he began to cut at the wire.
I watched the process with great anxiety. He gave over several times, and once I thought he was going to faint, and I ran up to the post to try and break his fall. But he began hacking at the wire again, and in a few seconds more it fell apart, and one end of it lay on the ground.
Then he began to slide down the post, and before he was down his arms relaxed their hold, and he almost fell into my arms as I stood underneath.