"Now all I expect of you is to hold hard on this rope until I get across on to the spar," I whispered. "When I give three distinct jerks on the cord, then let loose of your end; but drop it slowly, mind you, père, so I can draw it in without noise. You had better creep to the edge of the roof with it before you release your hold. Do you understand?"
He nodded silently, his eyes gazing unwaveringly into mine. I held forth my hand to him, moved by the sudden impulse of such a movement. As he gave me his own in response it felt as cold as ice, yet I marked his grip was strong.
"As soon as I coil in the rope you had better creep down and go home," I explained, speaking slowly, for somehow I felt it strangely hard to part with this last tie between the present and the uncertain future. "You can be no further use to me; Madame will be anxious to hear your report, while it might prove exceedingly awkward for one of your cloth to be trapped here after this night's work is discovered by the Dons. So now good-bye; you are a man of nerve, even if you are a priest, and I am glad to have been comrade with you."
I heard him answer something as I slowly crept down to the edge, testing again the feel of the rope before venturing to swing off upon it. I was not unaccustomed to those adventures incident to rough life on the frontier; my nerves were not easily jarred by strange experiences, yet I hold it no pleasant sensation to swing out on a thirty-foot line at that height, amid utter darkness, especially when you feel uncertain as to its secure fastening at the farther end. Moreover, the priest's robe hampered my movements sadly, while, being no light-weight, the strands of the small cord cut my hands. I durst not hurry, but took the passage inch by inch, gritting my teeth as I hung suspended above the abyss, lest I might emit a cry. In truth I thought my arms would pull out of the sockets before I finally came alongside the spar. Yet, thanks be to God, the rope held nobly, though it required every pound of remaining strength to haul my dangling body up, that I could rest across the wood before I felt after the standing rope beneath. I clung there weak as a child, trembling like a frightened woman, the cold perspiration standing in drops upon my face.
I have been in far happier situations than that--lying bent nearly double across the yard of an enemy's ship on a black night, but at the moment, so sincerely rejoiced was I to be off that sagging rope, I felt like humming a tune. Yet I contented myself with sliding along the smooth spar until I discovered a firm strand of rope beneath my feet, ventured then to stand upright, and clung for support to the cloth of the sail. At last I gave our signal, and, as the line slackened to my hand, drew it cautiously in, coiling it as it came, until all was once again in my possession. Waiting a moment, to give the père opportunity to begin his retreat, I undid the noose yet wound about the small end of the spar, and, with much care, feeling my uncertain way through the darkness, worked myself slowly along, inward bound toward the mast. Finally, close beside it I again made fast the end of my cord, lowering it, paying out the long coil inch by inch, until I felt convinced from its limpness it must extend to the deck.