'What is he doing down there?' asked Marjory, and her indignation rose higher when she heard.
'Now, Cameron, be brave; go down and tell him once for all he may just keep what he has, and be thankful. Whatever it is, it's good enough for him, I'm sure!'
But I still hung back. 'It's no use, Marjory, he'll tell everyone I cheated him—he says he will!'
'That he shall not!' she cried; 'I won't have it, I'll go myself, and tell him what I think of him, and make him stop treating you like this.'
Some faint glimmer of manliness made me ashamed to allow her thus to fight my battles. 'No, Marjory, not you!' I said; 'I will go: I'll say what you want me to say!'
But it was too late. I saw her for just a second at the door, my impetuous, generous little Marjory, as she flung back her pretty hair in a certain spirited way she had, and nodded to me encouragingly.
And then—I can hardly think of it calmly even now—there came a sharp scream, and the sound of a fall, and, after that, silence.
Sick with fear, I rushed to the head of the steps, and looked down into the brown gloom.
'Keep where you are for a minute!' I heard Ormsby cry out. 'It's all right—she's not hurt; now you can come down.'