A stone was lost to geology, and the world would be the richer by a great man!
Nela shivered as the dog leaped upon her and caressed her. The affectionate creature, after jumping round and round her, whining and barking with so much expression that it was almost like speaking, set off running as fast as he could towards Aldeacorba. You might have thought he was in chase of some wild game. Choto—unlike some orators—seemed to speak when he barked.
Just at this time Teodoro Golfin was coming away from the Penáguilas'. He was met by Choto, who, with voluble haste, told him—I know not what. It was a fervent, fitful address, delivered between his gasps for breath and gushes of eager anxiety. Golfin, though he understood several languages, was not strong in the canine tongue, and paid no particular heed. Choto leaped up and round him, jerking out barks from his moist jaws, some short and sharp as insults, others soft and coaxing, and then again threats. Teodoro meanwhile stood still, his attention was struck by the dog's manner; and Choto, seeing that he had made himself understood to a certain extent, began to run in a contrary direction to Golfin's homeward road. The doctor followed him. "Very well," he muttered, "that way then."
Choto retraced his steps, as if to make sure that Golfin was following him, and then he trotted on again. At some little distance from the house Golfin heard a voice saying:
"Well, Choto, what is it you want?"
He suspected at once that it was Nela. He paused and listened, hidden in the shadow of a beech-tree, and soon perceived a little figure standing out from the stone wall and walking very slowly. The shadows of the brambles prevented his seeing her very distinctly. He set out to follow her at some little distance, quitting the path and walking on the turf, so as to make no noise. Beyond a doubt it was Nela. He recognized her perfectly when they got upon open ground, where there were no dark shadows cast by trees or shrubs.
The girl now went faster and faster; at last she began to run, and Golfin ran too. After this unequal race had gone on for some distance, Nela sat down on a stone. At her feet was the sloping basin of La Trascava, black and hideous in the gloom. Golfin waited a moment; then he very softly went nearer to the girl. Choto was seated in front of her, squatted on his hind quarters, with his fore paw stretched out, and gazing at her with the gravity of a sphinx. Nela stared into the depths below, and suddenly starting to her feet she began to go quickly down the slope—slipping rather than running. With one bound Teodoro stood by the abyss, roaring in stentorian tones: "Nela! Nela!"
He looked down, but could see nothing in the dark chasm; he could hear Choto whining as he ran round and round the ridge, lower and lower in spirals, as if he were being sucked in by some eddy in the dreadful gulf. Teodoro thought of going down himself and cautiously took a step or two; then he called again, and a voice from below answered: "Señor."