Lowering himself quietly into it, he shook the rope, to let
Tim know that he could begin his descent.
Before Tim was halfway down, Charlie could hear his hard breathing,
and muttered ejaculations to himself:
"Shure I'll never get to the bottom at all, my arms are fairly
breaking. I shall squash Mr. Charles, if I fall on him."
"Hold your tongue, Tim," Charlie said in a loud whisper.
Tim was silent, but the panting and puffing increased, and Charlie
swam a stroke or two away, expecting every moment that Tim would fall.
The Irishman, however, held on; but let himself into the water with a
splash, which aroused the attention of the sentry above, who instantly
challenged.
Tim and Charlie remained perfectly quiet. Again the sentry challenged.
Then there was a long silence. The sentry probably was unwilling to
rouse the place by a false alarm, and the splash might have been
caused by the fall of a piece of decayed stone from the face of the
wall.
"Tim, you clumsy fellow," whispered Charlie, "you nearly spoiled all."
"Shure, yer honor, I was kilt entirely, and my arms were pulled out of
my sockets. Holy Mother, who'd have thought 'twould be so difficult to
come down a rope! The sailors are great men, entirely.
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