Suddenly the dog was mute. Much alarmed, Valentine renewed his call. It then appeared to him that, at about twenty feet below the spot where he then was, he could perceive a white form; but its outlines were so vague and indistinct that he thought he must be the sport of an illusion, and he ventured to lean still further over, to assure himself that he was not deceived.
At this moment, he felt himself strongly pulled back. Like a man delivered from a frightful nightmare, he took a confused glance around him. Cæsar with his forepaws firmly fixed upon the rock, was holding the end of his poncho in his clenched teeth.
"Can you reply to me now?" the Linda said.
"Perfectly, señorita," he replied.
"You will help me to save my daughter?"
"It was in search of her that I descended."
"Thanks, caballero!" she said, fervently; "she is close by."
Doña Rosario was lying insensible caught in some thick bushes hanging over an abyss of more than a thousand feet in depth! On perceiving her, Valentine's first impression was a feeling of wild terror. But as soon as the first moment was past, and he could look at her coolly, he became satisfied that she was in perfect safety.
All this had required much time, and the storm had subsided by degrees; the mist was clearing off and the sun had reappeared. Valentine then became aware of all the horror of the situation which the darkness had till then concealed from him.
To reascend was impossible; to descend was still worse. From the clump of myrtles near which they were, the walls of the precipice descended in a plumb line, without any salient point upon which a foot could be placed. One step forward was death.