This fear, while it startled her, also urged her footsteps to greater haste, and at times she almost ran. Suddenly her feet became entangled in one of the many creeping wild vines that spread a tangled network in her path, and unable to recover her poise, she fell headlong to the ground, striking heavily.
In a wilted heap she lay there for some minutes, stunned by the fall, seemingly not caring to move; then, on slowly regaining her scattered wits, and recalling the haste and importance of her mission, she made an effort to regain her feet.
Along with the effort a sharp pain darted through her ankle—so sharp and severe that she came near crying out, and after making a step or two forward, she sank, with a little moan, down on the ground again, clasping her spent ankle with both hands.
A swarm of terrifying thoughts came crowding swiftly upon her. Had she broken it? If so, what should she do in her utter helplessness? A most unenviable situation it was—alone and crippled, far from human aid, a solitary object for pity, lying helpless amid those silent, gloomy hills, while the only person on whom she might have called in her dire extremity, was even more helpless than she, and urgently needed her assistance even now to avert the terrible fate that was drawing very near to him.
As she sat thus in her abject misery, aloof from succor or sympathy, rubbing her sprained ankle aimlessly the while, and bemoaning by turns her misfortune and suffering, and the cruel situation of the bound and helpless prisoner within the stone quarry, she finally attempted to move her foot gently to and fro, and found to her surprise that the accident was only a sudden wrench, painful but not lasting. Hope once more buoyed her up, yet all this delay was a waste of precious time she could ill afford to lose.
After a little prudent waiting she once more gained her feet and carefully took a step or two forward, and though the effort cost her some agony, it was not so intense as before, and seemed gradually wearing away, so with renewed determination she struggled bravely on, at times compelled to sit down on the ground and tightly clasp her ankle with both hands to deaden the pain.
As she sat thus, rocking to and fro in her suffering, her ear caught the sound of a horse coming up the hill in the direction of the quarry. Up she again started, in a fresh frenzy of terror, her physical pain giving way to the greater mental agony that beset her. Forgetful of her recent accident, only remembering that the thing she had most dreaded might speedily come to pass, despite her efforts to prevent it, she struggled on.
The pain seemed suddenly to go as quickly as it had come, and she pushed resolutely onward, unmindful of her weak ankle or of the darkness, praying fervently the while that strength might remain to her, and enable her to reach the quarry before the horseman did.
The sound of the hoofbeats ceased. It was probable the rider had dismounted and was making his way on foot to where his victim lay. She was tempted to scream out—to rend the very silence with frantic cries for help, yet to what purpose? It might only serve to hasten the dastardly work. Oh, that she had waited at the edge of the quarry, and sought to defend her loved from that secure vantage ground!
She gasped a prayer for aid, for strength, and redoubled her speed. At last the quarry's entrance was reached, and she had to pause a brief moment to catch her spent breath. Then, in an agony of suspense, she peered anxiously forward into the darkness and silence of the place.