se it should break;
suppose--"

"Oh, what a coward I am!" he muttered; and swinging his leg free, he lay
upon his face for a moment, right upon the sloping tiles and then let
the rope glide through his hands.

It was very easy work down that slope, only that elbows and hands
suffered, and sundry sounds suggested that waistcoat buttons were being
torn off. But that was no moment for studying trifles; and what were
waistcoat buttons to liberty?

Another moment, and his legs were over the edge, and he was about to
attempt the most difficult part of the descent, grasping beforehand,
that as soon as he hung clear of the eaves, he should begin to turn
slowly round.

"Now for it," he said; and he was about to descend perpendicularly, when
the rope was suddenly jerked violently.

There was a loud ejaculation, and Jem's voice rose to where he hung.

"No, no, Mas' Don. Back! Back! Don't come down." Then, as he hung,
there came the panting and noise of a terrible struggle far below.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

PRISONERS AGAIN.

Don's grasp tightened on the rope, and as he lay there, half on, half
off the slope, listening, with the beads of perspiration gathering on
his forehead, he heard from below shouts, the trampling of feet and
struggling.

"They've attacked Jem," he thought. "What shall I do? Go to his help?"

Before he could come to a decision the noise ceased and all was
perfectly still.

Don hung there thinking.

What should he do--slide down and try to escape, or climb back?

Jem was evidently retaken, and to escape would be cowardly, he thought;
and in this spirit he began to draw himself slowly back till, after a
great deal of exertion, he had contrived to get his legs beyond the
eaves, and there he rested, hesitating once more.

Just then he heard voices below, and holding on by one hand, he rapidly
drew up a few yards of the rope, making his leg take the place of
another hand.

There was a good deal of talking, and he caught the word "rope," but
that was all. So he continued his toilsome ascent till he was able to
grasp the edge of the skylight opening, up to which he dragged himself,
and sat listening, astride, as he had been before the attempt was made.

All was so still that he was tempted to slide down and escape for no
sound suggested that any one was on the watch. But Jem! Poor Jem! It
was like leaving him in the lurch.

Still, he thought, if he did get away, he might give the alarm