atural being.

"What cowards they are!" he reflected, bitterly. "They are determined
to kill me though, that is evident, and I don't believe they will be
content with simply leaving me here to die of exposure. It's more than
likely they will roll rocks down on me from the cliffs during the
night. There's a cheerful prospect to contemplate, with darkness
already coming on, too!

"That young fellow seemed willing enough to help me, only he was bound
to do it in his own way; but now I suppose those wretches will prevent
him from making any more efforts in my behalf. What is he doing with
that gang of murderers, I wonder? Apparently he is about as far
removed from that class as a person can be. Well, that's neither here
nor there. The one thing to be considered just now is, how am I to
get out of this fix? I wonder if there is any possibility of that cord
bearing my weight."

The cord thus referred to was the one by which the basket of food had
been lowered. As it still hung close at hand, Peveril gave it a sharp
pull. Although it yielded slightly, it did not break, and, encouraged
by this, he threw his whole weight on it as a conclusive test of its
strength. The result was sudden, surprising, and wellnigh disastrous.
The cord gave way so readily that Peveril sprawled at full length on
the rocks, while, at the same time, something heavy fell with a rush
down the face of the cliff and struck with great force close beside
his head.

Springing to his feet in alarm at this most unexpected happening, the
prisoner found to his amazement and also to his delight that he had
pulled down the derrick-tackle by which he had descended. To be sure,
the block at its lower end had very nearly dashed out his brains, but
what did he care for that so long as he had been given the benefit of
the miss? For a moment he was puzzled to know how his pull on the cord
could have effected so desirable a result, but, upon an examination of
the tackle, he laughed aloud at the simplicity of the proposition. For
want of something better to hold her end of the cord, Mary Darrell had
tied it to the block of the derrick-tackle, intending, of course, to
draw up the basket again as soon as her starving guest had emptied it.
Then, absorbed in a suddenly evolved plan for releasing him from his
predicament and at the same time preserving her father's secret, she
had gone away and neglected to do so.

Peveril was not slow to avail himself of the means of esc