Part 21 (1/2)

For a few moments he stood there aghast. Then, recovering his presence of mind, he pushed aside more of the growth which impeded him, and looked down into a narrow pit which was choked with broken wood and ferns.

”Fred!” he shouted; but there was no reply. There, however, beneath him, he could see his companion's head and shoulders, with eyes closed, or seeming to be in the dim light, and only about five feet below where he stood.

Without a moment's hesitation, but trembling the while for fear that this might be some terribly deep pit into which his companion might fall if once the broken boughs which supported him gave way, Scarlett tried bough after bough of the old oak to find one upon which he could depend; but they all crackled in a way that threatened snapping if he trusted one; so, reaching back, he got hold of a stout hazel which seemed to be a dozen or fourteen feet high, dragged it down, and holding it by twisting his hand among the twigs at the top, he began to descend.

At every movement the earth crumbled, and the bed of rotten wood supporting Fred, as he lay back with his face to the light, shook so that at any moment Scarlett expected to see it descend into the profound abyss below. But in spite of this, as he climbed down the short distance, he realised the state of affairs--that in its fall the oak had crushed in the masonry arch over some old well-like place, leaving this terrible hole securely covered till the wood had rotted away; and that now it had been Fred's misfortune to leap upon the spot, go through, and be held up by the broken wood, which formed a kind of rough scaffold a short distance below.

Should he run back for help?

No; he could not leave Fred like that. And yet when he reached him he was afraid that the slightest touch would send him down; and now he realised how fortunate it was that Fred had been hurt, and had remained insensible, for if he had struggled, the possibility was that he must have gone through at once.

Short as the distance was, Scarlett had to take the greatest precautions, for, as he tried to get foothold, something gave way beneath him, and he hung by the hazel, feeling as if all the blood in his body had rushed to his heart, for there was a loud hollow splash, which went echoing horribly away, and he found himself with his eyes on a level with the old crumbling masonry forming an arch.

He recovered himself though directly, for he could stretch out a hand and touch Fred.

The touch had instant effect, for the lad opened his eyes, stared at him wildly, and then said quickly--

”What's the matter?”

”Nothing much, if you are careful. You have fallen, and are hanging here. Now--”

”Fallen? Oh yes, I remember; the tree,” cried Fred. ”Oh, my head, my head!”

”Never mind your head,” whispered Scarlett. ”Now listen.”

”I say, what hole's this? Is it a well?” said Fred, eagerly.

”Don't, pray don't talk. Now, can you reach up and get hold of the hazel above my hands?”

”Dare say I can,” said Fred, coolly. ”Yes. There!”

”Then be careful. You are held up by that broken wood. Now try and draw yourself out.”

”Can't,” said Fred, after one effort. ”I'm held tight; wedged in by this wood.”

”Try again; but be careful, whatever you do.”

”Wait a moment. Oh, my head, my head! I hit the back of it on something.”

”Ah, mind!” cried Scarlett, in agony. ”Don't think about what is beneath you, but try to climb up.”

”Of course: only my head hurts so. I gave it such a knock.”

”Yes, yes,” cried Scarlett, impatiently; ”but do mind.”

”Well, I am minding; only don't be in such a fuss. I must get this piece of broken bough away.”

”No,” cried Scarlett, in agony; ”don't leave go your hold.”

”But can't you see,” cried Fred, impatiently, ”that this is just like a wire trap? I've gone through it, and the points are all round me, holding me from coming back.”