e 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