The slender cord had unraveled perhaps half the necessary length to reach the ground when, catching slightly, it pulled the remaining ball back against the Tower wall. But the force of impact loosed the snag, and the weight of the stone within carried it bouncing and unwinding to the turf below. Michael, coming forward, still had not seen his mother. But he saw the shrunken ball of twine, reduced to almost nothing, and wasted not an instant. Seizing the end of the rope, which lay but a short distance off, he tied the thinner cord firmly below the first of the spaced knots, then tugged gently in signal. Only then did he look up to see the female form leaning out, and with frozen breath, watched the life-line beginning to ascend. Anne Scott held the tensing line away from the wall for as long as she could, till the growing weight of the rope forced her to bring it closer to her body, praying that the twine would not catch and tear against the stone. Mary stood guard behind her, the knife clenched, trying to understand what was happening. Anne Scott stepped back. The rope was in her hand. ".....I tell you I don't like it," snapped Ballard just beyond. "And what if I told you I hadn't got the key?" "I'd blow your God damned head off." Searching the floor, the widow found the iron hoop through which ancient shackles had once been passed. She put the end of the rope through and tied it fast, tested it with a severe pull, then guided Mary quickly to the window. "Over the side with you, Mary," she whispered. "No time for fear. Michael is below with your brother. Yes! Give me the weapon. . .now up into the sill. That's it. Keep firm hold of the rope, and use the knots to guide you down. Climb swiftly but carefully, then be gone, both of you! I'll deal with this lot." Hardly knowing what had happened, Mary found herself outside the window, clutching a dark rope with all the desperate strength of youth. She tried at first to gain some foothold, then in a moment of panic, to reach up and climb back into the sill. But the groping hand slid away, and the downward momentum twisted her body outward..... She hung by one hand above the void, as a sudden wind ripped across her, and the surf beat hungrily against the rocks far below. Fear choked her nearly to paralysis. But there was something else, there on the solid ground. Two figures stood, one of them..... Twisting her body and using her legs for leverage, she turned again to face the stone, and with her right hand, once more took firm hold of the lifeline. Not looking down, breath coming in gasps and limbs trembling, she began to descend, her feet wrapped tightly, tensely sliding from one catch-knot to the next. When she dared to look again she was halfway down, and Michael was standing beneath her, arms wide as if to embrace the sky.