A Gamble with Life. Hocking Silas Kitto

I see," he went on a moment later. "You took a path further to the south."

      "Cannot you reach me?" she called with an undertone of anxiety in her voice.

      For a moment he did not answer. He was anxious not to discourage her, and yet he could see no chance of getting her down alive.

      "Can you hold on much longer?" he asked at length.

      "Not much," she replied, frankly. "I guess I'm near the end."

      "No, don't say that," he said, encouragingly; "keep your heart up a little longer. I must try another tack."

      "You cannot reach me?" the question ended almost in a cry.

      "Not from this point," he answered, cheerfully. "But we've not got to the end of all things yet," and he began to retrace his steps.

      "Are you leaving me?" she called, feebly.

      "Never," he answered, and there was something in his tone that made her heart leap wildly.

      "I see the path you took," he said a moment later, but though he spoke cheerfully he had no real hope of saving her.

      CHAPTER V

      A PERILOUS TASK

      Rufus reached a point at length from which he was able to look down on the prostrate figure of Madeline Grover. She was lying almost flat on her face, with her right hand thrust into a cleft of the rock.

      For several minutes no word had passed between them. She was afraid to ask any more questions lest she should hear from his lips that her case was hopeless. He was afraid to buoy her up with empty words that would end in nothing.

      She could hear distinctly the sound of his footsteps as he threaded his way in and out among the pinnacles of rock, she could even hear his breathing at times. She knew when he stood above her without being told.

      That there was peril in his enterprise she knew. He was risking his life to save hers. He, a stranger, upon whom she had not the smallest claim. It was a brave and generous thing to do, and she began to doubt whether she ought to allow him to take such risk.

      His life was of infinitely greater value than hers – at least, so she told herself. He was a man and might accomplish something great for the race. She was only a girl, and girls were plentiful, and a good many of them useless, and she was not at all sure that she did not belong to the latter class. At any rate, she had never done anything yet, had as a matter of fact, never been expected to do anything, and if she lived till she was a hundred she was not sure that she would ever be able to do anything that would be of the least benefit to the world.

      She was the first to break the silence. "Don't risk your life for my sake," she said, and she managed to keep all trace of emotion out of her voice.

      "And why not?" he asked.

      "I am not worth it," she replied. "I had no business to get into danger."

      "You did not know the risks you ran," he replied, kindly.

      "I might have known; I had been warned often enough."

      "We have all to learn by experience," he said, with a short laugh. "Now let us get to work."

      "What do you want me to do?" she asked.

      "Get on to your feet, if possible. Don't open your eyes, and keep your face towards the cliff. Do you understand?"

      "Yes, I understand, and I will try."

      "Take your time over it," he said, cheerfully. "I expect you feel pretty stiff, don't you? Slip your right hand up the crevice. I will be eyes for you, and tell you what to do."

      She obeyed him implicitly. His firm, resolute voice gave her courage. The nearness of his presence imparted strength and determination. If she felt a coward she would not let him see it. He might not feel any great admiration for her, that was not at all likely, since she had acted so foolishly, but she hoped he would not feel contempt.

      She stood at length upright with her face against the cliff.

      "Now don't open your eyes," he said, "and please do what I tell you."

      "I am in your hands," she replied.

      "You will be directly, I hope," he answered, with a laugh, "but in the meanwhile move slowly in this direction."

      "That's right," he continued, a little later. "Come on, I will tell you when to stop."

      She sidled on steadily inch by inch, while he watched her with fast-beating heart.

      "That will do," he said at length. "Now reach out your left hand as far as possible."

      She obeyed at once, and a moment later he held it in his own firm grasp.

      The colour came into her face when she felt his fingers close round hers, and her heart beat perceptibly faster.

      "So far, so good," he said, cheerily. "Now the next step is not with your hand, but with your foot. It will be a very long stride for you, but you've got to do it. Don't open your eyes. And in the first place lean as far as you dare in this direction."

      She obeyed him instantly. "That will do," he called. "Now just on a level with your chin is a hole in the rock. Get your right hand into it, if you can, and hold tight."

      "That's right," he said, brightly. "Now for the long stride."

      She began very slowly and carefully. Her heart was thumping as though it would come through her side. She knew that beneath her was empty space.

      "That's right," he went on, "just a little farther – another inch – a quarter of an inch more; there you are! Don't speak and don't open your eyes. When you are ready let me know. Push your foot a little farther on the ledge if you can – that is it. It will be a big effort for you, but I have you fast on this side. Bend your body forward as much as you can. When you are ready, say so, and give a lurch in this direction, letting go with your right hand at the same moment. Do you understand?"

      "Yes." The answer came in a whisper.

      It was an awful moment for both. She drew a long breath, and cried "now." For a second she seemed poised in mid-air.

      "Lean forward," he almost shrieked.

      She clutched eagerly at the bare rocks in front of her, but there was nothing she could grasp.

      Rufus felt his heart stop.

      "Open your eyes," he cried, "and spring." It was her last chance, the last chance for both, in fact, for if she fell she would drag him with her.

      Her confidence in him was absolute. She did in a moment what she was told. He pulled her towards him with a jerk that nearly dislocated her shoulder. Then both his arms closed round her, and he sank back into a deep and safe recess behind a large pinnacle of rock.

      For several minutes she lost consciousness. Her head drooped upon his shoulder, her cheeks became as pale as the dead.

      He would have given all he possessed at that moment to have kissed her lips. It was the strongest temptation that ever came to him. It was the first time in his experience that so beautiful a face had been so close to his own, and the impulse to claim toll was all but irresistible; but he fought the temptation, and conquered. He felt that it would be a cowardly thing to do.

      His reverence for women was one of the strongest traits in his character. Felix Muller had told him more than once in his cynical way that he reverenced women because he did not know them. Rufus admitted that it might be so; but his reverence remained. It was nearly all that was left of his early religious faith – a remnant of a complicated creed, but it influenced his life more profoundly than he knew.

      He watched the colour come slowly back into Madeline's pale face with infinite interest. How beautiful she was, how finely pencilled were her eyebrows, how perfect the contour of her dimpled chin. Her hair had become loose, and a long rich tress sported itself over the sleeve of his coat. The slanting sunlight played upon it, and turned it to bronze, and then to gold.

      Her eyelids trembled after a while, then she opened them slowly, and looked up into his face, with a wondering expression, then her lips parted in