WE TRY ANOTHER MEANS OF ESCAPE, WHEREBY WE ARE AS NEARLY UNDONE AS MAY BE.
Presently my little comrade (as I call her) got up from her chair, and seating herself beside me on my stone stool, laid her hand very tenderly on 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 and day for not having started to get back into the Baraquan when the rains first gave over and the water began to sink.
"Why," says she, "'twas too late; for sure the water must have ceased to overflow from the great river before it ceased to flow into the lake, and, therefore, we must have found at the entrance to the Baraquan just such a deposit of impassable mud as lies at the entrance of the lake. Thus, had we started when your conscience very unwisely bade you, we should have been finely served, for there must we have stuck betwixt two barriers, 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 madness to start before the rains ceased, and 'twas too late when they had."
In this manner did she reason with me, to my ineffable comfort, for naught that she urged was less cogent than tenderly considerate. But what delighted me even more than getting this heavy load of responsibility taken from my shoulders was the evidence of her admirable judgment and good sense in this matter; for though her wealth of goodness beggared me indeed by comparison, I was better pleased a hundredfold to admire her wisdom and feeling than if I had suddenly discovered myself blessed with these excellent qualities.
"Cousin," says I, "the justice of your conclusions leaves me no ground for regrets, save that I had not previously consulted you in this business."
"Why," says she with a merry laugh, "that is a regret I would not remove, for it may prompt you not to leave your 'little comrade' at home in perplexity next time you go a-boating in the dark."
After that we went together day after day across the lake to examine the ground; but 'twas no better on the seventh day than on the first, but worse, for then we gave up all hope of the ground ever getting firm enough to traverse. As I feared, the springs and rills from the hills kept it continually moist, and the ground, being nothing but filthy ooze, gave no hold whatever to the foot, as I found to my cost, when I attempted it, sinking up to my middle ere I had gone two paces, and with the greatest difficulty getting back with no worse misfortune. In addition to this, as the sun grew in power, this slough began to fester and putrefy, throwing off stinking vapors that raised our gorge. But that which made this pestilent belt more abhorrent to my lady then all else was the prodigious number of great worms and hideous reptiles that came hither to writhe and wallow in the foul slime. So (as I say) at the end 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 I was bent upon getting away, and would harbor no thought of staying there, however I might be tempted by inclination that way; and spying one part which looked more broken than any other, I begged my lady to let me go and see if it were any way passable. But she would not hear of my going alone, though willing enough to go anywhere if she might share the peril; so provided with a store of food for the day and a stout stick 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 sticks and such shrubs as grew in the fissures and cracks; but when we reached that part where the mountain was less broken and no herbs grew, our troubles began; and to tell of all our difficulties—how we had to leap like goats in one part, and climb with hands and feet like cats in another; how we had to go back and try new ways time out of mind—would be tedious indeed; but, to cut this matter short, we came about three in the afternoon to where the mountain rose sheer up on one side, and lay in 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 here I would have my lady desist from further adventuring; "for," says I, "if our foot slip, naught can save us from sliding down this rock as down the roof of a house, and shooting ourselves a thousand feet on to the crags below."
"But our foot must not slip, Benet," says she. "And there is no more danger here than we have encountered before."
Still I hesitated, but she, thinking I was concerned only for her, urged me to go on; and I, on the other hand, considering that this was our last and only chance of escape, at length consented, only bargaining that she should give me her hand to hold.
"Ay," says she, "that will I willingly; for if you go I have no mind to stay 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 rock under my feet) I discovered that we had come to the end of that sloping rock, and that another step would have plunged me down a great yawning fissure that showed no bottom; all was black below.
"What is it, Benet?" says my lady, as I came to a stand, for she dared not take her eyes from the ground, lest she should be seized with a vertigo.
"We must go back," says I quietly; "there is an abyss beside me which we can not cross."
"Very well," says she after a moment's pause. "Tell me when you are ready."
"We will wait a minute till your strength comes back," says I, for I felt her fingers quivering, despite my close hold.
"Nay, let us go at once, lest my courage fail," says she faintly. "But have a care when you come to the little ledge: it is loose; I felt it slide 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's sake, do not venture down the slope to pass me—do not leave go of my hand."
"So be it," says I; "but do prythee await till you feel stouter of heart." And then I tried to restore her confidence by all the means I could; but indeed my own heart quailed within me. For to realize our terrible position, you must fancy yourself standing on the steep roof of the highest cathedral, with no parapet to arrest your fall, and one of the slates so loose that it may slip under your foot, no matter how carefully you step.
"Thank you, Benet," says my dear lady. "You have brought my courage back. Come, let us go."
So with that she begins that backward journey; but now, instead of looking to the rock under my own feet, I was casting my eyes to my dear lady's for that loose rock she had spoken of. Presently I caught sight of it—a great slab that lay on the slope, with no space behind for a footing, and too wide to step across. And seeing this I sought with an eager fury for some means of stopping our fall if this slab should slide under 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 the slab, and, to my sickening horror, I perceived it tilt a little, being very nicely poised; and doubtless had I set my foot firmly upon it at that 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 her hand) 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 and fell; 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 slab to 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 left arm wedged in the fissure above my head, and my right hand linked to my Lady 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 a moment she and that great mass of rock hung, as I may say, on my bent arm. In that moment the bone of my forearm snapped like a dry stick, and indeed I thought my muscles must be torn asunder also, so sharp and strong was the strain upon it; but, thanks be to God, my lady's belt bursting, the slab slid from beneath her, and so was I relieved of that prodigious weight.
We heard the slab screech as it grated down the slope; then followed an interval of silence, in which one might have counted a score, followed by a great crash as the rock fell upon the crags below, smiting my soul with awe to think how we had surely been hurled down with it to our utter destruction but for a mercy of Providence.
But my arm was powerless to draw myself up, and fearing the torment of it might take away my senses, so that I might let my lady's hand slip, I called 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 climb up 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 soul trembled in every limb, and was faint from the shock. I helped her as well as I might with my right arm, yet could I do but little for my own sickness. However, she presently got strength from a source which never fails to invigorate such hearts as hers; for, coming as high as my shoulder, she cries:
"Dear Benet, your arm is broken"; and with that she quits my body and starts to her feet, which had she not dared to do under other conditions.
"Nay," says I, "take no heed of that, but do place your feet upon that crevice, which will give you a good hold."
"Ay, surely," says she, stepping up briskly. "Now may I help you, my poor Benet; give me your right hand, and have no fear. See how strong I am!"
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 more to her a hundredfold than she to me.
Of her readiness and tenderness in making a sling to bear my arm; of her gentle, encouraging words as she led the way down the rocks to our cavern, ever choosing the way most direct and least difficult for me; of her thoughtfulness in running forward to fetch me cool water from a spring to sup; of these things, I say, and many others, I have no words to speak, for no words that I know of can do her justice.