Part 29 (2/2)

Should they be in time?

Or was Conal dead?

These were the questions that they asked each other over and over again.

They hoped against hope, however, as brave men ever do.

CHAPTER XI.--THUS HAND IN HAND THE BROTHERS SLEEP.

They arrived at the plateau in the afternoon, and cautiously, yet quickly was the plank placed over.

Frank did not wait to attach the rope to his waist, so eager was he.

The yawning green gulf beneath him might have tried the nerve of Blondin. He paused not to think, however, but went over almost with the speed of a bird upon the wing, and more slowly the others followed.

They brought with them the end of the coils of rope, and these were speedily hauled across.

For a few moments Frank and Duncan stood silently clasping each other's hands; and the c.o.c.kney lad could tell by the look of anguish in his Highland cousin's face that the worst had occurred.

”Too late! too late!” Duncan managed to say at last, and he turned quickly away to hide the blinding tears.

”Poor Conal,” explained the captain, ”is lying down yonder--that black object is he enveloped in rugs, but he has made no sign for hours, and doubtless is frozen hard enough ere now.”

”Come,” cried Frank, ”be of good cheer, my dear Duncan, till we are certain. Perhaps he does but sleep.”

”Yes, he sleeps,” said Duncan mournfully, ”and death is the only door which leads from the sleep that cold and frost bring in their train.”

”Come, men,” cried Frank, now taking command, for he was full of life and energy, ”uncoil the rope most carefully. I am light, Captain Talbot, so I myself will make the descent. I shall at once send poor Conal to bank, or as soon as I can get him bent on. Haul up when I shout.”

When all the rope was got loose and made into one great coil, the end was thrown over into the crevice to make sure it would reach.

It did reach, with many fathoms to spare; so it was quickly hauled up and recoiled again.

A bight was now made at one end, and into this brave Frank quickly, and with sailor-like precision, hitched himself.

”Lower away now, men. Gently does it. Draw most carefully up as soon as I shout. When poor Conal is drawn to bank, lower again for me.”

Next minute Frank had disappeared over the brink of the abyss, and was quickly and safely landed beneath.

He approached the bundle of rugs with a heart that never before felt so brimful of anguish and doubt.

And now he carefully draws aside the coverings. A pale face, white and hard, half-open eyes, and a pained look about the lowered brows and drawn lips.

Is there hope?

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