Hope had sprung up at the possibility of escape, for life seemed then to be very sweet, but there was a bitterness to dull the bright thought, for the lad felt that it was the hated enemy of his house who was trying to help.
Then a dull feeling of apathy, as if he had been half stunned, came over him as he hung there in a terribly cramped position, with his face pressed against the wall.
And now, as if his hearing had become sharpened, the murmur of the rushing river came up quite loudly, and the wind seemed to be gathering force, while all this was, as it were, preparatory to his falling headlong down.

Then he must have lost his senses for some little time, for the next thing he heard was a voice crying out, in tones full of despair,-- "Too short, too short, Ram!" "Ay, so it be.

Good ten foot." "Could I help him if you lowered me down ?" "Lower you down?
Are you mad?
I couldn't hold you; and you'd break your neck." Mark heard every word now, for his senses had suddenly recovered their tone and something more.
Then what seemed to be another long space of time elapsed, and Ralph shouted to him,-- "This rope is too short, but there'll be another here soon." Mark could make no reply, and he hung there, listening to the murmur of voices once more.

Then the rush of the river sounded like the distant boom of thunder.

There was a loud _cizz_, _cizz_, going on somewhere on the cliff face from a cricket, and the birds were singing more loudly than he ever remembered to have heard them before.
Once more his senses must have left him and come back, for he heard the voice above louder than ever, followed by Ralph shouting,-- "Can you tie the rope round you ?" Mark could not answer for some little time; then his lips parted, and he gasped out the one word,-- "No." A sharp rustling followed, as of a rope being rapidly drawn up.