It seemed that all they could do was to sit and think of there being any likelihood of their being found, and Will asked at last whether anyone knew where Josh was about to take the new rope. "Nobody," he said gruffly. "I knowed you didn't want it known, so I held my tongue." "But who lent you the rope, Josh?" "Nobody." "Nobody?" "Nobody. Folk won't lend noo ropes to a fellow without knowing what they're going to do with 'em. I bought it." "You bought it, Josh--with your own money?" "Ain't got anybody else's money, have I?" growled Josh. "Here, I know. What stoopids we are!" "You know what?" cried Will. "Why, how to get out o' this here squabble." "Can you--find a way along this gallery, Josh?" said Will eagerly. "Not likely; but we can get down to the water and go along the adit." "Adit!" said Will; "is there one?" "Sure to be, else the water would be up here ever so high. They didn't bring all the earth and stones and water up past here, I know, when they could get rid of 'em by cutting an adit to the shore." Will caught the fisherman's arm in his hands. "I--I never saw it," he cried. "Well, what o' that? Pr'aps it's half hid among the stones. I dunno: but there allus is one where they make a shaft along on the cliff." "But what will you do?" "Do, lad? Why, go down and see--or I s'pose I must feel; it'll be so dark." As Josh spoke he rose and got hold of the rope once more. "No, no!" panted Will. "It is too dangerous, Josh, I can't let you go." "I say, don't be stoopid, lad. We can't stop here; you know. Nobody won't bring us cake and loaves o' bread and pilchard and tea, will they?" "But, Josh!" "Look here, lad, it's easy enough going down, ain't it?" "Yes, yes," cried Will; "but suppose there is no adit; suppose there is no way out to the shore: how will you get back?" "There I am again," growled Josh in an ill-used tone. "I never thought of that. I've got a good big head, but it never seems to hold enough to make me think like other men." "You could not climb up to the mouth, so how could you climb up again here?" Josh remained silent for a few minutes, and then he gave a stamp with his foot. "Why," he cried, "you're never so much more clever than me. Why didn't you think o' this here?" "What? What are you going to do, Josh?" "Do, lad!" he cried, suiting the action to the word by running the rope through his hands sailor-fashion till he got hold of the end; "why, I'm going to make a knot every half fathom as nigh as I can guess it, and then it'll be easy enough to climb up or down." Will breathed more freely, and stood listening to his companion's work, for it was a task for only one. "There you are," cried Josh at the end of a few minutes' knotting. "Now, then, who'll go down first--you or me?" "I will," said Will. "I'm better now." "Glad to hear it, lad; but you ain't going first into that gashly hole while I'm here. Stand aside."