Chapter 6. Unexpected Aid

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_ CHAPTER SIX. UNEXPECTED AID

For a few minutes the two lads were so overcome by the horror of their position that they stood there in silence, afraid to move. Then Scarlett recovered himself a little, and said huskily--

"Pull the rope again, and make sure."

"I'm sure enough," said Fred, sulkily. "It's all down here. How could you have tied it so badly?"

"I don't know. I thought it was tight. Ah! there it is again."

There was a whizzing, whirring sound heard above the plash and whisper of the water down below, and for a few moments the boys remained perfectly still.

"Why, I know what that is," cried Fred. "Pigeons. I've often seen them fly into the holes of the rocks. They build in these places, and roost here of a night."

"Wish I was a pigeon," said Scarlett, sadly. "We shall never be able to climb up that hole."

"We shall have to try," said Fred, "unless we can find a way down. Here, let's creep to the edge and look."

Scarlett hesitated for the moment, but it was a work, of stern necessity; and together, using the greatest caution the while, they crept on hands and knees to the edge of the great shelf, and looked over to see that the light came in from some opening away to the right, to be reflected from the wall of rock opposite, and shed sufficiently strong a dawn to let them see fifty feet below them the creamy foaming water which flowed in and then ran back.

"Don't see any way down," said Fred, rather despondently. "This place sticks right out over everything."

"But we can get down by fixing the rope up here, and sliding down."

"I'd forgotten the rope," said Fred, with a deep sigh. "But suppose we do get down. What then?"

"Why, we can find our way to the mouth of the cave, and look out and shout at the first boat that comes by."

Fred brightened up.

"I say, Scar," he said cheerfully, "what a clever fellow you are! Let's try at once."

"Hadn't we better try first whether we can climb up the hole?"

The suggestion was so good that it was at once tried, but without effect; for a very few minutes' search proved that there was a perpendicular face of rock to scale, and, unless they cut steps with their knives, ascent in that way was impossible.

"It's of no use, Scar," said Fred, "unless we can get away by the mouth. I say, is it as dark as it was when we first came down?"

"Our eyes are getting used to it," said Scarlett, as they both stood gazing across the opening at the black-looking rock-face before them, and, gaining courage from familiarity, they once more approached the edge of the shelf, and felt their way about, seeking vainly for the means of descent.

"I'm afraid it's of no use, Fred. The only way is for one of us to let the other down with the rope, and the one who goes down to call for help."

"But why not both go down?"

"Because there is nowhere to fasten the rope; and, after it slipped as it did just now, I should not like to venture."

"That was with your tying. You wait till I've found a place."

There did not seem much risk of a fall after Fred's securing of the rope, for the simple reason that he was not likely to tie it. Everywhere, as they searched, they found smooth rock without a projection, or shivering shaley slate, which crumbled down at a touch, and, at last, Fred gave up with a sigh of despair.

"It's of no use," he said. "One of us must go down and try the mouth of the cave. I don't want to, but I will go if you'll hold the rope."

"I feel so much afraid of not being strong enough, that I ought to go, and let you."

"Let's have a look, and see if we can make out what it's like first," said Fred; and, creeping cautiously to the edge, he lay down, and peered over, Scarlett following his example, and looking into the gloom beneath from close by his side.

"Looks very horrible," said Fred; "but I suppose it's because it's so dark. I don't believe it would be anything to mind, if it was so light we could see clearly."

"Perhaps not," replied Scarlett, gloomily; "but then, it is dark; and how dreadful the water sounds as it rushes into the mouth of the cave!"

"Oh, it always does; but there's nothing to mind."

"But suppose one of us did get down and found the mouth?"

"Well, we must find the mouth, because that's where the light and water come in."

"But if we did, the water's deep outside, and we should have to swim round to somewhere and land."

"Seems to me very stupid that we know so little about the shore under the rocks," said Fred, as he tried to pierce the pale grey light below. "Seems a stupid sort of shore, all steep cliff, and nowhere hardly to get down. Well, what shall we do? Will you go down, or shall I?"

"I'd rather trust to your holding the rope than mine."

"That's just how I feel," cried Fred. "But you went down first, and now it's my turn, so here goes. Now then, let's gather the rope into a coil, and throw one end down. Then you sit flat here on the ledge, with your legs stretched out, hold tight by the rope with both hands, and then let it hang between your legs and over the edge. It won't be hard to hold."

"I'll try," said Scarlett, nervously; "but I hardly like doing it."

"And I don't like going down, but it has got to be done, and the more fuss we make over it, the worse it will be. When you've got to take physic, down with it at once."

"Yes," said Scarlett, drily, "that's the best way, but the best way is often the hardest."

Fred had gathered the rope into rings, and was taking a final glance down at what seemed to be an uglier descent the more it was inspected, and but for very shame he would have given up. He set his teeth, though, and handed one end of the rope to his companion.

"Catch hold--tight," he said in a low voice. "If you let that go we're done. Now then--one, two--"

He did not say three, for at that moment a gruff, husky voice came rumbling and echoing down toward them with the cheery hail of--

"Anybody at home?"

"Now, I wonder what them boys are going to do," said Samson, over and over again, and each time that he said so he sighed and rubbed his back, and ended by resting upon the handle of his spade.

"No good, I'm sure," he muttered. "Yes," he added, after a thoughtful pause, "that's it--going to let one another down over the cliffs so as to break their necks; and if they do, a nice mess I shall be in, for the colonel 'll say it was all my fault for letting them have the rope."

Samson turned over a couple of spadefuls of earth, and then drove the tool in with a fierce stab, leaving it sticking up in the ground.

"Here, I can't go on digging and knowing all the time as them lads is breaking their necks over the cliff side. Never was in such a muddle as this before. Why didn't they say what they were going to do?"

"Here, this must be stopped--this must be stopped!" he cried, with a display of energy such as he had not before shown that day; and, snatching up his jacket, he started off in the direction taken by the lads, he having had no difficulty in seeing that their aim was the mass of slaty rock, rounded and covered with short green turf, known as the Rill Head, up which he climbed just in time to shout down the grassy crevice the words which sent joy into the boys' hearts.

"Hurrah! There's help!" cried Scarlett, starting up.

"Mind! you nearly knocked me over."

"I could not help it, Fred. Here, hi!"

"Anybody at home? Where are you?"

"Why, it's old Samson," cried Fred, groping his way to where he believed the bottom of the crack by which they had descended to be. "Hi! Samson!"

"Hullo!" came back. "Where are you? What are you doing?"

Fred hastily explained their plight.

"Serve you both right," cried Samson; and his voice, as it rumbled down the hole into the cavern, sounded, as Scarlett thought, like the voice of a giant. "Well, what are you going to do? Live there?"

"No; you must help us out."

"Help you out?"

"Yes. How did you know we were here?"

"How did I know you were there, indeed!" growled Samson, with aggravating repetition of the other's words. "Why, I knowed you'd be in some mischief as soon as I saw you both go by with that rope."

"But you didn't see us come down here."

"No; but I see your clothes lying aside the hole. What did you want here? Somebody's sheep tumbled down again?"

"Hear that?" whispered Fred. "No, Samson; but don't stand there talking. Did you bring a rope?"

"How could I bring the rope, when you'd got it?"

"Go and fetch another."

"There isn't one that'll bear you. Can't you throw up the end of that one?"

"Impossible! You must fetch another."

"And who's to do my gardening while I'm hunting all over Coombeland for ropes as nobody won't lend?"

"Look here, Samson," cried Scarlett. "Go up to the Hall, and ask Nat to lend you one of ours."

"Go up and ask my brother Nat to lend me a rope?"

"Yes."

"I'd sooner go and jump off the cliff. There!"

"Well, you must do something, and pray make haste."

"What am I to do?"

"I know," cried Fred. "Go and get your garden line."

"Why, that wouldn't bear a cat, let alone a boy like you."

"You do as I tell you, and bring a big round stone, too, one that you can tie to one end of the line. Be quick."

"Oh, I'll go," said Samson; "but mind you, I warn you it won't bear."

"You do as I tell you," cried Fred, again; "and don't tell my mother where we are."

"I may tell the colonel, I suppose?" said Samson, with a laugh to himself.

"No, no, no!" cried Fred; but the words were not heard, for Samson had set off down the hill at a trot.

"I say, what a pair of stupids we are," said Fred, after trying two or three times over to find out whether Samson was still there.

"Don't talk," replied Scarlett. "Let's listen for his coming back."

"But he must be half an hour, at least; and we know we are all right now. I say, Scar, I've a good mind to go down lower, and see if there's a way to the sea."

"No, you will not," said Scarlett, rather gruffly. "Let's sit down and think."

"It's too dark to think," cried Fred, petulantly. "I wonder how this place came. Think it was made by the hill cracking, or by the sea washing it out?"

"I don't know. But shall we come again, and bring a lanthorn?"

"Yes, and regularly examine the place. We will some day. I wonder whether we're the first people who ever came down into it? I mean," said Fred, "the first people who were not sheep. Here, hi! Scar! what are you thinking about?"

"I was thinking what a hiding-place it would make for anybody who did not want to be found."

"Do for smugglers. Wonder whether any smugglers ever knew of it?"

"No; if they had there would have been some way down to the mouth."

"And perhaps there is, only it's too dark for us to see where it is."

Then the conversation languished, and they sat on the rough shaley earth, trying to pierce the gloom, and listening with quite a start from time to time to the sharp whirr of the pigeons' wings as they darted in and out.

At last, just when they were beginning to think it a terribly long time, Samson's voice was heard.

"Here you are! I've brought my line."

"And a big stone?"

"Yes, Master Fred; eight or nine pounder. But I warn you once more that line won't bear you boys."

"You do as I tell you. Now tie the stone to the line."

There was a few moments' pause, during which they seemed to see the red-faced gardener as he busied himself over his task, and then down came the words--

"All right."

"Lower it down."

"What?--the stone?"

"Yes. Quick."

Directly after, there was a rattling and falling of tiny bits of shale, which went on as Samson shouted--

"She won't come no farther."

"Draw the line and start it again."

Samson started the stone after hauling it up a bit, and this time it glided out of the angle in which it had rested, increased its speed, bringing down quite a shower of shale, and then there was a dull thud.

"That's it, Samson. I've got it."

"Good job, for there ain't much more."

"There's quite enough," cried Fred, as he rapidly set the stone loose, and tied the line to the rope's end. "Now, then, haul away."

"No, no, my lad; I tell you it won't bear you. You'd only have a nasty tumble."

"Haul!"

"And I shall be blamed."

"Will you haul? Oh, only wait till I come up!"

Samson gave quite a snatch at the line, and drew it up rapidly, while the boys waited to hear what he would say when he found their meaning.

"Why couldn't you have said as you meanted that!" he grumbled. "I see now. Want me to make this here fast to the pole."

"Yes, of course; then we can climb up."

"To be sure you can. I see now."

"Make it quite fast, Samson."

"I will, sir. And try it, too," he added under his breath, as he knotted the rope fast, seized and drew it tight, and then lowering himself into the crevice, he began to glide down rapidly, sending a tremendous shower of shale on to Fred's head, and making him start away just as he had drawn the rope tight ready to ascend.

"Why, what are you doing?" he shouted.

"Coming down, sir," panted Samson; and the next minute he was on the broad shelf in company with nearly enough disintegrated rock to bury the skeleton of the sheep.

"Well, 'pon my word, young gentlemen," cried the gardener, "you've got rum sort of ideas. Wouldn't no other place please you for a game but this?"

"We wanted to explore it," exclaimed Fred; "to see if there's a way down to the shore."

"Well, you can hear there is, lads. But why didn't you bring a lanthorn?"

"I wish we had."

"Wish again," said Samson, with a chuckle.

"What for?"

"Because then you'll get one," said the gardener, laughing.

"Why, Samson, what do you mean?" cried Scarlett.

"This here!"

There was a rattling sound, a clicking noise of flint upon steel, and soon after a glowing spark appeared, then a blue flame, a splint burst into a blaze, and directly after Samson's red and shining features could be seen by the light of the candle he had lit inside a lanthorn.

"There, lads," he said, closing the door with a snap; "you didn't think to tell me to bring that, but I thought of it, and there we are. Now we can see what we're about," he continued, as he swung the lanthorn above his head; "and not much to see nayther. Only an 'ole. Yes, of course. There you are. Sheep's bones. Dessay many a one's tumbled down here. Hole don't go up very high," he added, once more raising the lanthorn above his head; "but it goes down to the sea for sartain."

"Oh, Samson, and you've left the line up above. If we had it here, we might have swung the lanthorn down and seen how deep it was."

"That's just like you, Master Fred," said Samson. "You always think other folk will do what you'd do. You'd ha' left the line up at the top, same as you did your clothes, but being only a gardener, and a very bad one, as my brother Nat says, I put that there line in my pocket, and here it is."

Fred's answer was a slap on Samson's hard broad back, as he tied one end of the line to the lanthorn-ring, swung it over the edge of the shelf, and they watched it go down sixty or seventy feet, feebly illumining the sides of the cave, and as it grew lower an additional radiance was displayed by the light striking on the bottom, which proved to be full of water kept slightly in motion by the influx of the waves outside.

"Not much to see, my lads," said Samson. "No gold, nor silver, nor nothing. Shouldn't wonder if there's pigeons' nesties, though, only you couldn't get at 'em without a ladder. There! seen enough?"

"No; I want to see whether there is any way down," said Fred.

"Any way down?" said Samson, swinging the lanthorn to and fro. "No, my lad--yes, there is. Easily get down at that corner. Slide down or slip down. See!"

"Yes," said the lads in a breath; and long afterwards they recalled their eagerness to know about a means of descent from that shelf.

"Yes," said Samson; "you might make a short cut down to the sea this way if you wanted to. But you don't want to, and it wouldn't be any good if you did, because you'd be obliged to have a boat outside; and if the boat wasn't well-minded, it would soon be banged to matchwood among the rocks. There, my bit o' ground's waiting to be dug, and I've got you two out of your hobble, so here goes back."

As he spoke, he rapidly hauled up the lanthorn, forming the line into rings, untying the end from the ring, and, after giving it a twist, thrusting it back into his pocket, while he undid the strap he wore about his waist, thrust an end through the lanthorn-ring, and buckled it on once more.

"Will you go first, Samson?" said Fred.

"No; I mean to go last. I don't leave here till I see you both safe. What should I have said to your mothers if you'd been lost and not found for a hundred years? Nice state of affairs that would ha' been."

"Go on first, Scar," said Fred; "we'll hold the rope tight, so that it will be easy."

Scarlett reached up, seized the rope, and began to climb, getting the thick cord well round his legs, as he struggled up for nearly twenty feet, and then he slipped down again.

"Can't we go down the other way, and climb the cliff?"

"No, you can't," said Samson, gruffly. "You've got to go up as you come down. Here, Master Fred, show him the way."

Fred seized the rope, and began to climb, but with no better success; and he, too, glided down again after a severe struggle.

"The rope's so slippery," he said angrily.

"And you call yourselves young gentlemen!" grunted Samson. "Why, you'd ha' been just as badly off if your rope hadn't slipped. Here, give us hold."

Samson seized the rope, and they heard him grunt and pant and cease his struggle, and then begin to grunt and pant again for quite ten minutes, when, just as they rather maliciously hoped that he would prove as awkward as themselves, they heard the lanthorn bang against the rock, a shower of shale fell as it was kicked off, and Samson's voice came down--

"Line is a bit slithery," he said; "but I'm all right now."

They could not see, but they in imagination felt that he had reached the first slope, up which he was climbing, and then felt when he passed up the second, showers of shale and earth following every moment, till, all at once, there was a cessation of noise, and of the shower, and Samson's bluff voice exclaimed--

"Up a top! Now, then, lay hold, and I'll have you up to where you can climb."

"Go on, Scar."

"Go on, Fred."

The boys spoke together, and, after a little argument, Scarlett seized the rope, felt himself hoisted up, and, once up at the slope, he soon reached daylight, Fred following in the same way, to stand in the sunshine, gazing at his companions, who, like himself, were covered with perspiration and dust.

"You look nice ones, you do," said Samson, grinning; "and all that there trouble for nothing."

But Samson was a very ignorant man, who knew a great deal about gardening, but knew nothing whatever about the future, though in that instance his want of knowledge was shared by Fred and Scarlett, who, after resuming their jerkins, took, one the pole, the other the coil of neatly ringed rope, and trudged back to the Manor with Samson, who delivered quite a discourse upon waste of time; but he did not return to his digging, contenting himself with extracting his spade from the ground, wiping it carefully, and hanging it up in his tool-house, close to the lanthorn.

"Going home, Master Scarlett?" said Samson.

"Yes, directly."

"Won't have a mug o' cider, I suppose?"

"No, thank ye, Samson."

"Because I thought Master Fred was going to fetch some out, and you could have a drop too."

"Hark at him, Scar! There never was such a fellow for cider."

"Oh yes, there was; but I've yearned it anyhow to-day."

"So you have, and I'll fetch you a mug," said Fred, darting off.

"Ah, that's better," grunted Samson. "Never such a fellow for cider! Why, my brother's a deal worse than I am, and you wouldn't ketch him leaving his work to take all the trouble I did to-day, Master Scarlett. Hah! here he comes back. Thank ye, Master Fred, lad. Hah! what good cider. Puzzle your Nat to make such stuff as that."

"He says ours is better," said Scarlett.

"Let him, sir; but that don't make it better."

"Bother the old cider! Who cares?" cried Fred. "Look here, Samson, don't say a word to anybody about our having found that hole."

"No, sir; not I."

"Why did you tell him that!" said Scarlett, as they walked away.

"I don't know," said Fred, starting.

"Perhaps I thought we ought not to tell, in case we wanted to hide some day."

"Hide! What from whom from!"

"I don't know," said Fred again, as he looked in a puzzled way at his companion; and then they parted. Fred felt that he should have liked to have told his friend why he wished the discovery to be kept a secret, but the puzzled feeling grew more intense, and when at last he dismissed it, he was obliged to own that he did not know himself any more than when he spoke. _

Read next: Chapter 7. Fred Takes A Jump

Read previous: Chapter 5. Another Discovery

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