MY LADY OF THE SOUTH
floor to rest, but I durst not waste much time in this way, and felt obliged to force him again to his feet. He was swaying dizzily when we finally attained the foot of a short ladder leading upward. The trap was closed, yet as I held the lantern higher I could perceive the outlines of the door. Donald sank to the floor, the weight of his body bearing the boy with him, and lay there with eyes closed, and hand pressed against his head. He was evidently suffering greatly, but in the stress of the moment I could scarcely afford him much consideration.
"Is the trap locked?"
His eyes opened slightly, staring deeply at the lantern flame.
"No; all you need do is push against it."
I climbed the few steps of the ladder, leaving the light below, and, without great effort, lifted the door, turning it silently back until it rested securely against some obstacle. I could perceive little outside the narrow zone of light radiating from below, yet the small room into which my head projected appeared unoccupied, no movement or sound attracting attention. Satisfied as to this, I returned below, considerably puzzled as to how Donald was to be got up the ladder. Water from the canteen applied externally, with the last dregs of the brandy flask as inward stimulant, brought the injured man once again to his feet. I buckled the sling-strap of the carbine beneath his arms, and led the way, O'Brien boosting sturdily from below, and thus, aided a little by his own efforts, we succeeded in dragging his almost inert body up the short reach of ladder, and out upon the floor above. His
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