"Thank God, we were near at hand!" he said, as he realised the spent condition both girls were in; "but you will soon be safe now."
"Please take Olive first," urged Monica, and Leslie, filled with admiration for the pluck and unselfishness the girl displayed, made his way cautiously to the summit, half-leading, half-carrying the almost helpless Olive, the rope which was slowly pulled up as he neared the top, affording him a sense of security.
It was the work of a very few moments to lay his burden down upon the short heather, to be tenderly cared for by Elsa, and to return for her companion. Marcus eagerly suggested that he should take a turn, but Leslie waved him back, saying: "No, no, Drury; you do the holding, that's the hardest, really," and was scrambling down again before he could be gainsaid.
"Your friend is safe," he said, as he reached Monica's side, and at his words a tinge of colour appeared in her face, which was white even to the lips, but quite calm. "You're not afraid to trust yourself to me?" he added, more as an assertion than a question, for he had observed, with satisfaction, that Monica had heaved a little sigh of content as she felt herself supported by his strong arm.
"No, oh! no," she whispered, and a smile, pathetic in its wanness, illumined the girlish features, causing the young clergyman's heart to beat strangely, in a fashion hitherto unknown to him. Then she nerved herself for the necessary climb, which was accomplished in silence, and neither of the couple was sorry when the brow of the cliff was eventually reached in safety, and Marcus cried: "Bravo!"
"I can never, never thank you enough, Mr. Herschel," Monica murmured, as Leslie gently pushed her to a heather-covered mound, and, bidding her rest a bit, threw himself on the grass beside her.
"Please say no more," he entreated earnestly, "it was a mere nothing; I have always been a climber. But I am afraid this afternoon's mishap will cause you to have unpleasant recollections of Gullane Head."
A happy little smile played about Monica's lips. "No, indeed, I shall always be glad----" she began, earnestly; but before she could finish her sentence, Elsa, whose whole attention had been taken up by Olive, came to express her delight at the happy ending to what had seemed an almost unavoidable accident.
"How is Olive? I must go to her," said Monica, rising, vexed with herself for having forgotten her friend, even for a moment.
"She is feeling more herself now," replied Elsa, "but I don't believe she can walk a step, her legs tremble so, she says. And I don't know how we shall get back to Mrs. Drury," and Elsa looked troubled.