Sappers and Miners | Page 7

to hold him as he rapidly ran out the rest of the rope, till only about a yard remained, and then he released him.
"Now, you keep quiet," he growled. "You're mad--that's what you are!"
Joe rose to his feet, awed by the man's manner, and grasping now the fact that he was about to take the only steps that seemed available to save his companion.
For Hardock hurried to the other side of the opening, where the wall had been built close to the edge, and there was no space between, so that he could, in leaning over the wall, gaze straight down the shaft.
And then he began jerking the rope; and as he did so they could faintly hear indications of its touching the water far below.
"D'yer hear, there?" he shouted. "Lay holt o' the rope. Can't you see it?"
As he spoke, he jerked the stout line and sent a wave along it, making it splash in the water far below; but the faint, whispering and smacking sounds were all the answer, and Joe burst out with a piteous cry,--
"He's drowned! he's drowned! Or he's holding on somewhere waiting for me to go down and save him. Pull up the rope, quick! No; fasten it, and I'll slide down."
"Nay, nay; you keep quiet," growled the man, whose face was now of a sickly pallor. "How'm I to hear what he says, if you keep on making that row?"
"What--he says?" faltered Joe. "Then you can hear him shout?"
"You be quiet. Ahoy! Below there! Ketch holt o' the rope. None o' your games to frighten us. I know. Now, then, ketch holt and make it fast round yer."
Joe stood there with his face ghastly, and his eyes starting, as, with his hands behind his ears, he strained to catch the faintest sound which came up as through a great whispering tube; but all he could hear was the splashing of the rope, and a deep low musical dripping sound of falling water.
"D'yer hear there!" roared Hardock, now savagely. "It arn't right of yer, youngster. Shout something to let's know where yer are."
"He's dead--he's dead!" wailed Joe. "Let me go down and try and get him out."
"Will you be quiet!" roared the man, fiercely. "D'yer want to stop me when I'm trying to save him?"
"No, no, I want to help."
"Then be quiet. You only muddles me, and stops me from thinking what's best to do. Below there! Pendarve, ahoy! Ketch holt o' the rope, I tell yer!"
But he called in vain--there was no reply; and though he agitated the rope again and again, there was no other sound.
"There, now, let me go down. I must--I will go down, Sam."
"There's a good two hundred feet on it, and it's gone right down into the water," growled the man thoughtfully. "It's him playing tricks with us, arn't it?"
"Playing tricks! Who's mad now?" cried Joe. "Will you pull up that rope?"
For answer the man jerked it again and again, then pulled up a few fathoms, and let them drop again with a splash.
"Now, then, do you hear that?" he cried. "If yer don't ketch holt we'll haul it all up, and leave yer."
"Oh, Sam, Sam, Sam," cried Joe, "let me go down. Do you hear me? If you don't, I'll jump."
"Will you be quiet?" roared the man, fiercely. "You just stay where you are, or I'll tie yer neck and heels with the rope. Think I want to go back and say there's two on yer drownded. Stop where yer are."
"But we can't stand without doing something. Oh, Gwyn, Gwyn! How can I go and tell Mrs Pendarve what's happened?"
"And how can I?" cried the man, angrily. "What d'yer both mean, coming tempting on me to let yer down. What's the Colonel going to say to me?"
"Then you do think he's drowned?" cried Joe, piteously.
"Who's to help thinking he is?" said the man, gruffly, and he wiped the thick perspiration from his brow. "They all did say it was a onlucky mine, but I wouldn't believe 'em."
"Gwyn! Gwyn! Gwyn!" shouted Joe, as he leaned over the wall and gazed down, but there were only hollow reverberations in reply.
"It's no good, my lad," said Hardock, bitterly. "Who'd ha' thought of that rope failing as it did? Good sound rope as it be."
"But you are not going to give up, and do nothing?" cried Joe, frantically.
"What is us to do then?" said the man, with a groan. "Let me down, I tell you."
"Nay; it would be too bad, I won't do that."
"Then go down yourself."
"How? Can you hold me, and haul me up? That's madder still. He's gone, my lad, he's gone; and we can't do nothing to help him."
"Run, run for help. I'll stay here and hold the rope. He may be insensible and catch hold of it