The Prince fended himself off the ragged wall with hands and feet, and called up instructions to her as loudly as he dared.
It was a tremendous drop.

For the last fifty or more feet the wall rose straight, overhung by a ridge that rasped the rope.

And the rope proved fifteen feet or more too short.

Rosemary paid out as much of it as she dared, and then made the end fast round the cannon, leaning over to see whether Jaimihr would have sense enough or skill enough to cut himself free and fall.

But he hung where he was and spun, and it was five minutes before Rosemary remembered that his weapons had all been taken from him! It was scarcely likely that he could bite the thick rope through with his teeth! She stood then for two or three more minutes wondering what to do, for she had no knife of her own, and she had made the rope fast--woman-wise--with a true landlubber's knot that tightened from the strain until her struggling fingers could not make the least impression on it.