"So that's your plan, is it?" he said. "I'm to be left here until the cellar's flooded?"
"Spike" Cooper nodded. "It's a dog's trick," he admitted reluctantly, "but I guess you'll find it as easy a death as any other. Soon as the water's up level with that grating it pours in here like a Gawd-damned Niagara." He paused. "What I'm buckin' up against," he continued, "is your having to lie here a couple of hours waiting for the tide. Seems to be kinder cruel, that."
In spite of the grim prospect in front of him, Colin laughed.
"Thank you very much," he replied. "I hope that when you're hanged death will be instantaneous."
They were interrupted by an impatient movement from the other man.
"Come along, Spike," he growled. "Wot the hell's the use o' standin' 'ere jawin'?"
"I guess you're about right," was Mr. Cooper's philosophical answer.
He bent forward once more, and, having satisfied himself that the cords were properly fastened, turned to follow his companion, who was already halfway up the ladder.
Colin watched them disappear through the opening above, then the trapdoor closed down, leaving him in complete darkness.
A moment later he heard a grinding clang as a rusty bolt shot home into its socket.