They turned from the sunset and made their way to the chimney-stack.
There once more Donal set up his ladder. He tied the clock-weight to
the end of his cord, dropped it in, and with a little management got
it through the wires. It went down and down, gently lowered, till
the cord was all out, and still it would go.
"Do run and get some more," said Arctura.
"You do not mind being left alone?"
"No--if you will not be long."
"I will run," he said--and run he did, for she had scarcely begun to
feel the loneliness when he returned panting.
He took the end she had been holding, tied on the fresh cord he had
brought, and again lowered away. As he was beginning to fear that
after all he had not brought enough, the weight stopped, resting,
and drew no more.
"If only we had eyes in that weight," said Arctura, "like the snails
at the end of their horns!"
"We might have greased the bottom of the weight," said Donal, "as
they do the lead when they want to know what kind of bottom there is
to the sea: it might have brought up ashes. If it will not go any
farther, I will mark the string at the mouth, and draw it up."
He moved the weight up and down a little; it rested still, and he
drew it up.
"Now we must mark off it the height of the chimney above the parapet
wall," he said; "and then I will lower the weight towards the court
below, until this last knot comes to the wall: the weight will then
show us on the outside how far down the house it went inside.
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