ng on
his left and Bundy on his right, each holding one side of the ladder.

At a signal from Crass, Dawson and Sawkins began to haul on the rope,
and the top of the ladder began to use slowly into the air.

Philpot was not of much use at this work, which made it all the harder
for the other two who were lifting, besides putting an extra strain on
the rope. His lack of strength, and the efforts of Barrington and
Bundy to make up for him caused the ladder to sway from side to side,
as it would not have done if they had all been equally capable.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Dawson and Sawkins--although the ladder was as yet
only a little more than half the way up--noticed, as they hauled and
strained on the rope, that it had worn a groove for itself in the
corner of the brickwork at the side of the window; and every now and
then, although they pulled with all their strength, they were not able
to draw in any part of the rope at all; and it seemed to them as if
those others down below must have let go their hold altogether, or
ceased lifting.

That was what actually happened. The three men found the weight so
overpowering, that once or twice they were compelled to relax their
efforts for a few seconds, and at those times the rope had to carry the
whole weight of the ladder; and the part of the rope that had to bear
the greatest strain was the part that chanced to be at the angle of the
brickwork at the side of the window. And presently it happened that
one of the frayed and worn places that Dawson had remarked about was
just at the angle during one of those momentary pauses. On one end
there hung the ponderous ladder, straining the frayed rope against the
corner of the brickwork and the sharp edge of the stone sill, at the
other end were Dawson and Sawkins pulling with all their strength, and
in that instant the rope snapped like a piece of thread. One end
remained in the hands of Sawkins and Dawson, who reeled backwards into
the room, and the other end flew up into the air, writhing like the
lash of a gigantic whip. For a moment the heavy ladder swayed from
side to side: Barrington, standing underneath, with his hands raised
above his head grasping one of the rungs, struggled desperately to hold
it up. At his right stood Bundy, also with arms upraised holding the
side; and on the left, between the ladder and the wall, was Philpot.

For a brief space they strove fiercely to support the overpowering
weight, but Philpot