GIVING IN HAD BECOME INEVITABLE, WHEN HE TURNED.
No easy matter, as she soon found. The path, meant for use in coming down only, grew worse and worse, more stony, more difficult. The loose shale yielded beneath her tread; and for each step in advance, she felt as if she slid two steps downward. Yet advance she did, though with heart-breaking slowness.
If breath would but hold out! She was gaining upon Maurice; and she had healthy lungs; but this was severe work. Her heart was beating like a drum; and as she struggled on, she panted painfully. A call now might stop him; but no voice was left. She could only gasp.
Just when she had reached the stage, at which giving in had become inevitable, he stopped short, and turned. She waved her handkerchief violently. He waved his, and started at a run, descending by the steeper path. Rapid as were his movements, she was recovering herself before he arrived.
"You want me—!" with surprise, which changed into concern, as he saw her flushed and breathless state.
"I promised—to catch you—if I could!" She laughed at herself for having still to gasp between the words. "I'm—all right. It's only—" and she hurriedly explained what was wrong.
"Yes—they are my friends. I had no idea they were coming here. Thanks for calling me. You have had hard work."
"Oh, I didn't mind—only the stones were so horrid, sliding away under my feet. I thought I should never get up with you."
"You didn't attempt the short cut!"
"I fancied it would save time. Did it?"