CHAPTER LX.
WE TRY ANOTHER MEANS OF ESCAPE, WHEREBY WE ARE AS NEARLY UNDONE AS MAYBE.
Presently my little comrade (as I call her) got up from her chair, andseating herself beside me on my stone stool, laid her hand very tenderlyon my arm, and says she gently:
"You will tell me what is amiss, Benet, won't you?"
Upon this I told her my trouble, and how I must blame myself night andday for not having started to get back into the Baraquan when the rainsfirst gave over and the water began to sink.
"Why," says she, "'twas too late; for sure the water must have ceased tooverflow from the great river before it ceased to flow into the lake,and, therefore, we must have found at the entrance to the Baraquan justsuch a deposit of impassable mud as lies at the entrance of the lake.Thus, had we started when your conscience very unwisely bade you, weshould have been finely served, for there must we have stuck betwixt twobarriers, neither able to go forward nor to get back. Nor do I see,"adds she, "how we were to have mended matters, for it had been madnessto start before the rains ceased, and 'twas too late when they had."
In this manner did she reason with me, to my ineffable comfort, fornaught that she urged was less cogent than tenderly considerate. Butwhat delighted me even more than getting this heavy load ofresponsibility taken from my shoulders was the evidence of her admirablejudgment and good sense in this matter; for though her wealth ofgoodness beggared me indeed by comparison, I was better pleased ahundredfold to admire her wisdom and feeling than if I had suddenlydiscovered myself blessed with these excellent qualities.
"Cousin," says I, "the justice of your conclusions leaves me no groundfor regrets, save that I had not previously consulted you in thisbusiness."
"Why," says she with a merry laugh, "that is a regret I would notremove, for it may prompt you not to leave your 'little comrade' at homein perplexity next time you go a-boating in the dark."
After that we went together day after day across the lake to examine theground; but 'twas no better on the seventh day than on the first, butworse, for then we gave up all hope of the ground ever getting firmenough to traverse. As I feared, the springs and rills from the hillskept it continually moist, and the ground, being nothing but filthyooze, gave no hold whatever to the foot, as I found to my cost, when Iattempted it, sinking up to my middle ere I had gone two paces, and withthe greatest difficulty getting back with no worse misfortune. Inaddition to this, as the sun grew in power, this slough began to festerand putrefy, throwing off stinking vapors that raised our gorge. Butthat which made this pestilent belt more abhorrent to my lady then allelse was the prodigious number of great worms and hideous reptiles thatcame hither to writhe and wallow in the foul slime. So (as I say) at theend of a week we decided that no issue by that part was possible.
And now I began to cast my eye at the mountains that hemmed us in, for Iwas bent upon getting away, and would harbor no thought of stayingthere, however I might be tempted by inclination that way; and spyingone part which looked more broken than any other, I begged my lady tolet me go and see if it were any way passable. But she would not hear ofmy going alone, though willing enough to go anywhere if she might sharethe peril; so provided with a store of food for the day and a stoutstick apiece, we started off early one morning to make the venture.
For the first few hours we got on well enough, by the help of our sticksand such shrubs as grew in the fissures and cracks; but when we reachedthat part where the mountain was less broken and no herbs grew, ourtroubles began; and to tell of all our difficulties--how we had to leaplike goats in one part, and climb with hands and feet like cats inanother; how we had to go back and try new ways time out of mind--wouldbe tedious indeed; but, to cut this matter short, we came about three inthe afternoon to where the mountain rose sheer up on one side, and layin a great smooth flat table, inclining towards the lake, on the other,and there was no way to go forward but upon this sloping table. And hereI would have my lady desist from further adventuring; "for," says I, "ifour foot slip, naught can save us from sliding down this rock as downthe roof of a house, and shooting ourselves a thousand feet on to thecrags below."
"But our foot must not slip, Benet," says she. "And there is no moredanger here than we have encountered before."
Still I hesitated, but she, thinking I was concerned only for her, urgedme to go on; and I, on the other hand, considering that this was ourlast and only chance of escape, at length consented, only bargainingthat she should give me her hand to hold.
"Ay," says she, "that will I willingly; for if you go I have no mind tostay behind."
"Nor I neither," says I. And so, recommending ourselves to Providence,we went forward with our hands locked together.
Now went we along in this sort without accident a hundred yards, maybe,and then to my horror (I being ahead, with my eyes fixed on the rockunder my feet) I discovered that we had come to the end of that slopingrock, and that another step would have plunged me down a great yawningfissure that showed no bottom; all was black below.
"What is it, Benet?" says my lady, as I came to a stand, for she darednot take her eyes from the ground, lest she should be seized with avertigo.
"We must go back," says I quietly; "there is an abyss beside me which wecan not cross."
"Very well," says she after a moment's pause. "Tell me when you areready."
"We will wait a minute till your strength comes back," says I, for Ifelt her fingers quivering, despite my close hold.
"Nay, let us go at once, lest my courage fail," says she faintly. "Buthave a care when you come to the little ledge: it is loose; I felt itslide under my foot."
"Let me change places, that I may go first," says I.
"No, no!" cries she in an agony, as I was about to move; "for Heaven'ssake, do not venture down the slope to pass me--do not leave go of myhand."
"So be it," says I; "but do prythee await till you feel stouter ofheart." And then I tried to restore her confidence by all the means Icould; but indeed my own heart quailed within me. For to realize ourterrible position, you must fancy yourself standing on the steep roof ofthe highest cathedral, with no parapet to arrest your fall, and one ofthe slates so loose that it may slip under your foot, no matter howcarefully you step.
"Thank you, Benet," says my dear lady. "You have brought my courageback. Come, let us go."
So with that she begins that backward journey; but now, instead oflooking to the rock under my own feet, I was casting my eyes to my dearlady's for that loose rock she had spoken of. Presently I caught sightof it--a great slab that lay on the slope, with no space behind for afooting, and too wide to step across. And seeing this I sought with aneager fury for some means of stopping our fall if this slab should slideunder our feet, but I could spy nothing but a fissure behind the slab,into which I might by chance thrust my arm in falling.
Now scarcely had my eye made this out when my dear lady stepped on theslab, and, to my sickening horror, I perceived it tilt a little, beingvery nicely poised; and doubtless had I set my foot firmly upon it atthat moment, our combined weight would have held it firm and stationary,as it had in passing over it before, until it was released of my weight.But this did not occur to my slow wit at the right time--nay, rather,seeing this movement, I held back, and would have drawn my lady away.This hesitation (and maybe a little jerk I gave in my terror to herhand) was fatal, for ere I could cry aloud to her the great slab slid,and my dear lady, in striving to keep her balance, lost her footing andfell; then seeing that I was like to be drawn down the slope myself,when nothing in the world could have saved us from sliding with the slabto perdition, I threw myself on my face, and, flinging aside my stick,thrust my arm down that rent in the rock of which I have made mention.Thus I lay sprawled on that steep incline, half the length of my leftarm wedged in the fissure above my head, and my right hand linked to myLady Biddy's as she lay prone upon the slab.
My sole thought was to hold my dear lady, and this was no slight matter,for the edge of the slab
had caught in her waist-belt, so that for amoment she and that great mass of rock hung, as I may say, on my bentarm. In that moment the bone of my forearm snapped like a dry stick, andindeed I thought my muscles must be torn asunder also, so sharp andstrong was the strain upon it; but, thanks be to God, my lady's beltbursting, the slab slid from beneath her, and so was I relieved of thatprodigious weight.
We heard the slab screech as it grated down the slope; then followed aninterval of silence, in which one might have counted a score, followedby a great crash as the rock fell upon the crags below, smiting my soulwith awe to think how we had surely been hurled down with it to ourutter destruction but for a mercy of Providence.
But my arm was powerless to draw myself up, and fearing the torment ofit might take away my senses, so that I might let my lady's hand slip, Icalled to her.
"Cousin," says I, "are you hurt sorely?"
"No," replies she faintly, "only frightened, Benet."
"God be praised!" says I. "And so do, if you may, roll hither and climbup by my body to the rock above, for I have no strength left."
And this she did, but with great pain and trouble, for the dear soultrembled in every limb, and was faint from the shock. I helped her aswell as I might with my right arm, yet could I do but little for my ownsickness. However, she presently got strength from a source which neverfails to invigorate such hearts as hers; for, coming as high as myshoulder, she cries:
"Dear Benet, your arm is broken"; and with that she quits my body andstarts to her feet, which had she not dared to do under otherconditions.
"Nay," says I, "take no heed of that, but do place your feet upon thatcrevice, which will give you a good hold."
"Ay, surely," says she, stepping up briskly. "Now may I help you, mypoor Benet; give me your right hand, and have no fear. See how strong Iam!"
Indeed, in helping me to my feet she proved herself as lusty as any man;and in getting from that horrid slope to a place of safety I owed moreto her a hundredfold than she to me.
Of her readiness and tenderness in making a sling to bear my arm; of hergentle, encouraging words as she led the way down the rocks to ourcavern, ever choosing the way most direct and least difficult for me; ofher thoughtfulness in running forward to fetch me cool water from aspring to sup; of these things, I say, and many others, I have no wordsto speak, for no words that I know of can do her justice.
The Admirable Lady Biddy Fane Page 60
