"Unhealthy, to say the least. He who needs his life for work, knows how to prize it, and risks it only at the call of duty."
This reproof sounded very rude, and if it had come from the lips of any other person, Cecilia would probably have turned her back upon the "insolent creature," in silent contempt. Here she said nothing, for a minute perhaps, and at the same time scanned the sunburnt countenance of the young man, that had not by any means recovered its color as yet. Then she smiled again. "Thanks for the lesson. We just do not understand one another, Herr Runeck."
"I have told you so already--we belong to two different worlds----"
"And yet we stand so near together on the narrow space furnished by Whitestone's crest," mocked Cecilia. "As for the rest, I have enjoyed this unique pleasure long enough. I must go down now."
"Then permit me to attend you! The descent is far more dangerous than the ascent, and I could not answer to Erie for letting you go alone."
"To Eric? That indeed!" Her lips curled haughtily at the mention of her betrothed; then she cast a look up at the cross, where the loose hanging ends of the veil were fluttering in the morning breeze.
"That old weather-beaten cross has never been dressed up so before! I present it to the guardian spirits of the Whitestone; may be, out of gratitude, they will open their caverns to me and give me a sight of their buried treasures."
With a light laugh she turned to go. Silently Runeck led the way. He was right, the greater danger lay in the descent.
From time to time, at especially critical places, he exhorted her to be cautious, with a few words, or by a movement of the arm offered his assistance, which, however, was not accepted. His beautiful companion walked along over the giddy, steep path, as carelessly as over the smoothest of roads. Her light foot carried her over the rubble-stones, where Egbert's heavier tread found no good hold, and where there was climbing or leaping to do, with the help of her staff, she would swing herself from rock to rock. There was a bewitching grace in every moment of her slender white form, although, at the same time, that bold rash sport with danger that sets foresight at defiance.
They had already accomplished the greatest part of the way, already the bright green of the little mountain meadow was smiling a welcome, when Cecilia heedlessly again set her foot upon a loose rubble-stone, but this time it gave way, and rolled into the chasm; she lost her balance, tottered, stumbled--now the horrible instant of her fall, a loud shriek of dismay, then it grew dark before her eyes.