But how was Solomon to know where they were? He could not have been watching, or he would have prevented the terrible deed at all costs; of that Hammer was assured.
If he did not shout for aid—but what good would shouting do him? The sound would be lost in the pit or in the leafy roof above; he could not have pierced that mass of vegetation if he had had the lungs of Stentor.
It occurred to him that if he set the girl down on the ledge at his feet he might be able to get out in some way. There was only a ten-foot wall above him, and even the mosses would give him foothold.
Besides, her weight was beginning to tell on his arms, and he could not hold her for ever. He felt gingerly forward with one foot—and cold fear struck him to the heart.
Now he knew why Jenson had slipped away, and how. In the darkness of the pit, looking down from above, the ledge had seemed fairly wide; as a matter of fact, it jutted straight out from the wall for a scant foot; then the upper part of the stone broke and shelved down on all sides to the under part.
On that foot square of rock it was possible for one person to stand; it was possible for him to stand so long as he could hold the girl's weight in his arms, but there was not foothold for two persons—and he could not hold Sara Helmuth much longer. As it was, his arms were tiring rapidly.
Hammer's face clenched into a grimace of pure agony as the tremendous temptation swept over him—all the more powerful because of his inborn dread of what lay below. The girl was unconscious; she would never know! Was it not more merciful, after all, to give her to death now than to leave her precariously hanging on that foot-square ledge until she wakened, moved, and—dropped?
"Oh, God!" he muttered, Jenson's cry on his lips, and repeated it over and over. How could he save his own worthless life at the expense of hers? A terrible convulsion seized him; he tottered, and only recovered his balance by a miracle. The danger sickened him, but it also woke latent words in his brain.
"—I think it will be one of power, not of failure. I would like to be there——"
He groaned, and it was as if the groan had been wrenched out of his soul, for he knew that his great moment had arrived. And he knew that, despite himself, it would be one of power—nay it was one of power!