If the latter, I should find her without difficulty lying below, hidden from where I stood, but not far off. The very idea brought a cold shiver. That I disregarded, however. Action of some kind was necessary. Feeling had to wait.
It was not, of course, impossible that Thyrza should have reached the summit, tempted onward by the excitement of climbing, and there should have vanished for a short time before descending. But the fact which startled me was the length of the time she had been absent. A brief disappearance would not have been surprising. I could not understand her remaining away. Thyrza is so thoughtful; unlike Maggie and Nona; and especially thoughtful about me. I had said to her laughingly before she went, "Mind, if anything goes wrong, I shall come after you." She would remember this; and I knew she did not wish me to attempt the ascent.
The search below was soon over. I explored every spot where she might lie hidden, had she slipped and fallen. She was not there; neither was she on the slopes. I could see the broad green expanse, as I stood beneath looking upwards,—in parts frightfully near the perpendicular. I began to think I had done foolishly in consenting to let her go up.
If she did not very soon appear, nothing remained for me but to follow in her wake. I determined to wait a quarter of an hour; then, if she had not appeared, to start without more delay.
The fifteen minutes dragged past slowly. I had made my way to a low wall, and there I sat, waiting, watch in hand, in the soundless solitude. Nobody passed along the road. No human being was visible on the heights. It seemed to me that they grew steeper and loftier the longer I gazed.
"Time up! I must go!" I said aloud.
I suppose I moved too hastily, stepping down from my seat on the wall. I had gone there for a clear view. The wall was formed of large jagged stones, piled loosely together. One of these stones gave way under my foot, and I came to the ground with a sharp jar,—standing, but a good deal shaken,—and when I took a step away from the spot, I was instantly conscious of a crick in my weaker knee,—it might be a strain or twist.
For a minute I kept perfectly still, hoping that it would prove to be nothing. But the first movement showed me conclusively that my climb was at an end. I might as well have tried to reach the moon as the summit of the mountain.
It was a severe disappointment. If Thyrza had hurt herself, and were ill or disabled above, she would be needing me sorely.
Still, it was out of the question that I should go: and the thought now occurred that I ought at once to return to my seat on the road. If the dog-cart came to meet us, as it might do later, I had no business to be out of its direct path. Besides, Thyrza would know where to find me, or to send a messenger, if she had found it needful to go round some other way, rather than attempt the descent.