Doris broke into a little laugh of pleasure.
"But I was dreadfully frightened once—at the worst part—and not at all brave," she confessed. "The rock was so steep; and there seemed almost nothing to get hold of. I thought I should have to give up."
"If you felt afraid, it was much braver to go on than if you did not," Pressford said. He seemed more himself, though pale and shaken; and his gaze went to and fro between Doris and the mountain-wall. "Well—" he muttered. "I shouldn't have imagined any girl could do it—with no more training!" He turned to Maurice. "How you could let her—passes me!"
"But it had to be done. There was no other way," Doris eagerly explained. "It would have been much worse to go alone all down the mountain. And Mr. Maurice couldn't have held you up, all those hours."
"I should have come to—in time."
"I rather doubt it—in the position in which you were hanging," Maurice said dryly. "And if you had, it would have been an awkward spot for you to tackle in your present state. You were not over the ledge. And just below you—"
He did not finish the sentence. Pressford took another look, and muttered—"Hm!"
"So we owe our lives, both of us, to Miss Winton's courage."
Maurice attempted no self-defence. He simply could not explain what the giving of that permission had meant to himself. He could not trust himself to speak of it.
"I say—time is going, and we have to get down the mountain. I believe I can walk now."