She moaned and shuddered.
"I wish we had a light."
"I have no lucifers," said Little. "I observe, however, that you
wear a necklace of amber. Amber under certain conditions becomes
highly electrical. Permit me."
He took the amber necklace and rubbed it briskly. Then he asked
her to present her knuckle to the gem. A bright spark was the
result. This was repeated for some hours. The light was not
brilliant, but it was enough for the purposes of propriety, and
satisfied the delicately minded girl.
Suddenly there was a tearing, hissing noise and a smell of gas.
Little looked up and turned pale. The balloon, at what I shall
call the pointed end of the Bologna sausage, was evidently bursting
from increased pressure. The gas was escaping, and already they
were beginning to descend. Little was resigned but firm.
"If the silk gives way, then we are lost. Unfortunately I have no
rope nor material for binding it."
The woman's instinct had arrived at the same conclusion sooner than
the man's reason. But she was hesitating over a detail.
"Will you go down the rope for a moment?" she said, with a sweet
smile.
Little went down. Presently she called to him.
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