by Betty Neels
cliffs and halfway down pulled in on to the wide grassy verge under
overhanging rock.
"Is this a good place to stop?
' he wanted to know.
"Mar tina, are you quite sure you'll be happy in the car for an hour?
' Mevrouw Thor becke was content enough to be left to read and doze in
the warmth of the sun and the party, in lively spirits, started off for
the caves.
Beth had almost forgotten how extraordinary they were; she viewed their
fairy like interiors, peering at the delicate petrified drops falling
perpetually from a roof they could hardly see, and the graceful mounds
growing from the ground, and fell into a friendly argument with the
profess or as to which were stalactites and which stalagmites; the
children, who didn't know much about it anyway, joined in and it was a
gay party, still talking busily, which emerged into the sunshine again,
which somehow made Beth's disappointment all the keener when the
profess or declared his intention of going back to the car.
"I'm going to take Mar tina along for a cup of tea," he told her.
"You can have an hour," he cautioned her.
"Surely in that time these brats will have tired themselves out.
' He gave her a casual, friendly nod, and strolled away.
For a little while all went well; the children were passably good, and
Beth, scrambling with them along the side of the gorge, was content to
let them roam where they wished within limits, but when Dirk declared
his intention of climbing the almost sheer face of the cliff above
them, she declared in no uncertain terms that he was to do no such
thing.
But an imp of mischief had got into the boy; he danced away, shouting
that he would do just what he liked; that the cliff was easier than
anything else in the world to climb, and that she had no right to
forbid him to enjoy himself.
"OK," said Beth, realizing that guile was necessary, 'so you're hard
done by.
A pony to ride, a lovely holiday and no school for weeks, a visit to
the caves--you're definitely underprivileged.
' "What's underprivileged?
' asked Marineka.
Beth explained hastily and then added coaxingly: "Come on.
Dirk, you can't leave us to go back alone, you know--you're the eldest
and you're in charge.
' He wavered, then
"No, I'm not, you are-you're grown up and we're only children.
' He pulled a hideous grimace at her and started off, his hands in his
pockets.
From the back he looked very like a miniature of his uncle.
Beth stifled the thought and called: "Come back.
Dirk!
' in a no-nonsense voice and just for a moment she thought that he
would obey her, but: "I'm old enough to do what I like!
' he shouted after a long moment, and made for a narrow grass-covered
cleft, running up between the cliffs.
It wasn't too dangerous at first because there were plenty of footholds
and it was narrow enough for anyone climbing it to get hand-holds on
the rock on either side, but a hundred feet further it shot steeply on
to a small plateau and after that the going looked hazardous.
Beth wasn't a climber herself and she had no idea if Dirk was good at
it, but to rush after him would be foolish; he would merely climb
higher in order to get away from her; remembered episodes with William
when they were children made her certain of that.
What had begun as a prank had become grim earnest.
She turned her back on him and saw that the other children were
standing and staring upwards at their brother; any minute now, she
thought a little desperately, Hubert will decide to have a go as
well.
She said loudly and in a confident voice: "He'll come down again in a
minute or two, my dears--he's just going as far as that little grassy
platform.
' She spoke reassuringly while she thought hard.
The hour the profess or had suggested was almost up; if they didn't go
back to the car within a reasonable time she felt sure that he would
come in search of them.
If Dirk wasn't going to come down the children would have to be left at
the base of the cleft while she went after him and with any luck at
all, the profess or would be in time to get Dirk--and herself down
before they had gone very far.
They might even get back before he turned up.
She sent an urgent prayer sky wards and looked over her shoulder.
Dirk had reached the plateau and when he saw her looking, waved
defiantly and began the more hazardous climb towards the very top of
the cliff.
There was no path as far as she could see, and no grass; the very
thought of having to go after him made her feel sick, but there was
nothing else to do.
Even if they all hurried back to the car and fetched the profess or,
who might not be there.
Dirk could have missed his footing and fallen.
She turned to Marineka, making her voice casual.
"I think I'll go and give Dirk a hand, dear-will you stay here and look
after Hubert and Alberdina until we get back or your uncle comes?
I shall be able to see you and you can watch us.
Only promise to stay exactly here we'll be back in the wink of an
eye.
' If I get back at all, she told herself silently as she started up the
cleft.
Dirk was far above her now and she wondered if she was a fool to follow
him perhaps he was a born climber and quite fearless, in which case she
would be doing more harm than good and terrifying herself to no
purpose.
She climbed steadily and when she reached the plateau she made herself
look down on the children and wave; the ground looked a long way away
and it seemed to her that it would probably be Dirk who brought her
down and not the other way round.
She drew a calming breath and started up the cliff face.
Dirk was nowhere to be seen, but there was a jutting point of rock
ahead of her, he would be beyond that and hidden from her.
She clawed her way along, forcing herself to look ahead and not down,
and trying not to think of having to climb down again.
There was a narrow ledge running round the spur, the cliff towering on
one side of it, a steep slope, peppered with outcrops of rock, falling
to the ground on the other.
She peeped at it fearfully, giddy with fright, her heart thumping so
loudly that it almost deafened her, but not quite; she still heard
Dirk's voice, quite close, coming from the other side of the spur and
there was no defiance in it now.
"Beth--oh, Beth, I'm so glad you've come--I'm stuck and I feel sick.
' He added a great deal more, but it was in Dutch and she couldn't
understand a word of it.
That makes two of us, she thought wryly, and said aloud in a strong
cheerful voice: "Oh, I'm sure you're not stuck--can you come round to
this side and we'll go down together.
' She lied brightly: "It's quite easy.
' "I can't.
' "Then hold on, and I'll come round.
' She had no idea afterward
s how she did it, she was so terrified now
that she was stiff with fear; if she had been on her own she would
never have made the attempt; as it was, she found herself standing
beside Dirk on an even narrower ledge which just disappeared into the
rock face, so that there was nowhere to go even if she had been brave
enough to attempt to do so.
Dirk was standing with his face to the cliff, holding on to its rough
surface with desperate hands, and she got as near to him as she dared
and slid an arm across his shoulders so that he was in its shelter; it
was of no earthly use, but it might make him feel more secure.
"That's better," she spoke in a voice which she willed to be steady.
"We'll wait for a bit, shall we?
When we've got our breath we'll have a shot at getting back.
' "I can't.
' "Well, perhaps not, just at this moment, but later.
.
anyway, someone will be bound to see us and come and give us a hand.
' She could hear the occasional car going up or down the gorge below,
and she imagined that she could hear the children calling too, but that
would be fancy.
She hoped that they hadn't taken fright and gone tearing off in search
of their uncle and mother and got lost--knocked down by a car, fallen
over.
.
a stream of horrifying possibilities followed each other swiftly across
her frightened mind, each one a little worse than the last, and when
she told herself not to be a fool, that didn't help at all.
But there was nothing to be gained by working herself into a panic;
they had been there for hours--well, minutes, at least, the profess or
would surely have come in search of them by now.
"Oh, please do let him hurry.
.
' She had spoken out loud, and thinking about it later, it hadn't
seemed in the least strange when he answered her.
His voice was cool and unhurried and came from the other side of the
spur.
"My dear Miss Partridge, I'm being as quick as I can, but you really
must make allowances for my age.
' Half of his vast person appeared round the spur and she could have
cried with relief.
"Boy," commanded the profess or, 'take your hand from the rock and
catch hold of mine.
Beth, make yourself small so that he can get between you and the cliff
face can you do that?
' It was extraordinary, but she felt capable of doing anything at that
moment and although she was still frightened she felt safe.
She did exactly as she had been told and Dirk inched himself past her
and she heard the profess or telling him what to do, only since he
spoke in Dutch, it made no sense to her, but whatever it was, it must
have been successful, for very shortly afterwards he said: "Now your
turn, my dear girl; take a good hold of my hand and edge towards me
without turning round; it's quite easy going round the spur.
Take your time; I've got Dirk hanging on to my other hand.
' Her mind boggled at the picture this remark conjured up, but she
obeyed him with a desperate calmness and found herself on the other
side of the spur, squashed against him.
"Ah, splendid," boomed the profess or, still very cheerful.
"Now we can go back to the others.
' She wasn't sure how she managed that either, and she wondered once or
twice how the profess or felt about it, for he had each of them by the
hand and nothing to hold on to.
The little plateau looked like heaven when they reached it, but he
didn't allow them to pause, going on down the gully, with Dirk, now
that they were reasonably near the ground, gaining confidence at every
step.
As for herself, she wanted to be sick.
On the ground at last, they were surrounded by the children, who
obviously regarded the whole episode as a splendid joke and looked
admiringly at Dirk, who now that he was safe was inclined to boast
about his climb.
But his uncle cut him short and marshalled them into a tidy little
party and started back towards the car, warning them, in a voice which
brooked no disobedience, that they were to say nothing until he told
them that they might, and in a much gentler voice he asked Beth if she
felt all right, and when she nodded, not trusting herself to speak, he
smiled very kindly at her.
"You're quite a girl," he told her, and tucked a hand under her elbow
and kept it there, a very welcome support, until they reached the
car.
The children didn't breath a word during the drive back, nor during
their tea; indeed, they were quite subdued because their mother had
developed a headache and had gone to her room to lie down, but the
profess or was much as usual, only Beth noticed that he had very little
to say to Dirk.
She wasn't surprised when she was asked to go to the profess or's study
after the meal; he would want to know exactly what had happened
besides, she wanted to thank him for rescuing them and this would be a
splentlid opportunity to do so without an audience.
But once in the study, facing him across the desk, things were rather
different; the face he turned to hers was kind and impersonal, as was
his voice.
"Now, if I might have this afternoon's escapade explained to me?
' he invited.
He sounded courteous; prepared to be fair, and a stranger.
Beth studied him, trying to decide what to say.
Undoubtedly, Dirk would be punished if she gave him the full story; on
the other hand the profess or wasn't a man to be fobbed off with a
botched-up tale.
"There's nothing much to tell," she said at length.
"It was rather as Dirk told you.
.
.
' She wished she hadn't said that because he said at once,
"Ah, yes--that jumbled account I was given on the way to the car.
It was the boy's fault, wasn't it?
Was he rude?
Disobedient?
He endangered your life as well as his own.
' His expression softened.
"You're not much of a climber, are you, little Partridge?
' Why did little Partridge sound like an endearment?
She answered him quietly: "No, I'm hopeless at anything like that.
I thought Dirk was pretty good.
Boys.
.
.
' "No red herrings, Elizabeth," his voice was blandly amused.
"You aren't going to tell me anything, are you?
Was it your fault?
' She considered this question carefully.
"No, I don't think so, if you mean was I being unreasonable or
had-tempered or something, but I'd rather not say any more, and if
you're going to punish Dirk, please don't--he had an awful fright.
' He ignored this.
"And you, Elizabeth, did you have an awful fright?
' "Ghastly--you see, I'm pure coward.
' She smiled at him.
"I thought you'd never come.
' He got up and came round the desk and bent to lift her chin with a
compelling forefinger.
"But you knew that I would.
And you're not a coward;
never that--loyal and bossy and soft-hearted
and as obstinate as a mule when the occasion arises, and honest.
' He stood up, towering above her.
"Now I'm going to talk to young Dirk and then I shall go to his mother
and give her an expurgated version of this afternoon's little adventure
and I hope I may rely on you to back me up--and don't worry, I'll see
that the children don't terrify her with their own highly coloured
versions.
' She got up.
"How can you possibly stop them?
' "I shall bribe them.
' "But that's wrong!
' She was quite shocked.
"I know--I often do things which are wrong; don't you, dear girl?
