for the
rail over which the rope passed projected fully four feet from the top.

He was more and more bewildered; the rope cut into his chest, in spite
of his seizing it and holding it with both hands, but only to let go
again to stretch them out in the darkness, as he was swung about by the
gale, for he was seized now by a dread that he would be dashed heavily
against the wall.

Once more he was in motion in jerks, but only for a foot or two, and
then the horror of being dashed against the wall grew worse, for the
greater length of rope gave the wind more power to swing him violently
to and fro.

"Why doesn't he let me down?" thought Tom, with a fierce feeling of
anger rising against his uncle; but that was only momentary, for a fresh
dread assailed Tom--he was certain that he had felt the knot of the rope
crawling as it were upon his breast, which he knew must mean its giving
way, and with a frantic dash he flung up his hands to grasp the cord
high up once more.

"Could he climb back into the gallery?"

He tried, but his strength was failing, and after three or four efforts
he gave it up, to hang there inert, certain that the rope was nearly
undone, and that as soon as his grasp failed upon the thin cord, which
could not be long, down he must go, fully five-and-twenty feet--a
distance which the horror and darkness and agony made ten times as
terrible as it really was, though it would have been bad enough if half.

And all the while the wind raved and roared and tossed him about till he
was giddy, and rapidly losing consciousness; twice over he banged
heavily against the wall, though for the most part he was swung to and
fro parallel to the little gallery. Then a horrible feeling of sickness
attacked him, his hands fell to his sides, his head drooped, but the
next moment he felt himself reviving, for he was gliding rapidly down;
his feet touched the bottom, the rope slackened, then tightened,
slackened again, and fell at his feet; while by the time he had
staggered to the door, round at the other side of the building, trailing
the rope after him like an elongated tail, and holding his painful chest
with his hands, that door was opened, and he staggered into his uncle's
arms.

"Well done, my brave lad!" cried Uncle Richard in the comparative
silence of the workshop; but Tom could not answer.

"What is it? You are not hurt?"

There was no reply, only a feeble gasp or two, and in his horror his
uncle gave h