"It's impossible."
"In the Queen's name," cried Lancaster, "I command!"
"Quick!" said Mistress Brand. "Run, lad, to the dressing-room—it's next to this; the coil of rope is in the window casing. There's no time to lose."
Once more the aerograph spoke. "My engineers have mutinied. If I'm rammed, your house is directly below—I can't move the ship—the engineers——"
Then silence.
"I've read the signals, madam," said Dr. Boyes. "I'll help."
Lancaster was at hand dragging the coil of rope, and Mistress Sarah seized the turk's head—a large knot finishing the end. Five feet from that she bent a half-hitch. "Dr. Boyes, lift him by the arms! There—" She passed the rope under her brother's back, slipped the turk's head through the ring of her knot, hauled taut, and had a sling under Brand's armpits ready. Breathing hard, she took up a coil of rope and passed it round the heavy iron guard-bar outside the window. She made the loose end of the rope well fast to the bar. "Lad," she said quickly to Lancaster, "lift his feet as I haul; lift him half out through the window."
Dr. Boyes laid on to the rope behind her, while Lancaster gently guided the master's body outwards until it swung clear, suspended by the armpits. Then the rope was lowered away until the weight was taken by the rock ledge fifty feet below.
"Dr. Boyes," cried the woman, "leave the house at once—get to safety outside. His life depends on yours—you'll send down food, and you will rescue him. Lad—down the rope with you!"
Dr. Boyes ran to get the servants out of the house.