Part 5 (1/2)

”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 yet.”

”Ay, he may,” said the man, meaningly; ”but folk don't do that sort o'

thing, my lad. Nay; it's o' no use to struggle over it. He's a dead and goner, and you and me's got to face it.”

”Face it!” groaned Joe, letting his head go down on the top of the wall.

”Face it! How can I ever face Mrs Pendarve again?”

”Ah! and how can I face the Colonel, his father. I can't do it, my lad, Ydoll Churchtown's been a happy enough home for me, and I've allus made a living in it, but it's all over now. I must be off at once.”

”To get help?” cried Joe, raising his ghastly face from where it rested upon the weathered stone, and looking more ghastly now from the blood which had started from a slight cut on his brow.

”Nay; I've done all I could do here for young Gwyn--all as a man can do.

I've got to take care o' myself now, and be off somewheres, for the Colonel'll put it all on to me.”