It was said with many a gasp and sob of terror and distress; and, when it was finished, the little one hid her face in Mrs. Rush's lap again.
But she was right. The all-merciful Father had heard their earnest "heart-prayers," which could not be put into words; and help, such as they did not look for, was at hand.
None saw the figure bounding down the mountain side with such headlong speed—now swinging itself down some steep ascent by the branches of a tree, now springing from rock to rock like a wild goat—till it stood among them, breathless and eager.
The Colonel had risen to his feet, and, going a few steps up the bank where the ground was firmer, grasped the trunk of a tree for support, and looked over the edge at his poor sister. God had been merciful to her, and now sense and feeling had left her, and she hung unconscious in her husband's hand. Colonel Rush saw now what he had not known before,—a narrow ledge of rock, scarce six inches wide, jutted beyond the slope of gravel, and, on this, his sister's form partly rested. Well that it was so, or not even her husband's tremendous strength could have supported the strain so long. The Colonel eyed this ledge eagerly. It must have been on this that his brother-in-law relied, when he called for men and ropes. Could some one but reach it, and be held from above, they might fasten a rope about his sister's waist, and so she be drawn safely up. Could Ruthven hold on till then?
The Colonel looked around him, for a moment, with a wild thought of trying to reach it himself; the next he put it away as worse than folly. There was no rope, nothing to hold him or his sister; and if there had been, who was there to support and guide it? No one but a weak woman and two little children. He himself was a tall man, of no light weight, and with a lame foot: the attempt was sure to bring destruction upon himself, his sister, and her husband.
As he turned away, with another silent appeal for help, Lem stood before him.
"I seen it up there," he said, hurriedly, "and thought I'd never git here. I say, mister,"—to Mr. Stanton,—"if I only had a rope, or a bit of something to fasten about me, I know I could get down there, and put it about her, so you could histe her up."
The quick eye of the boy, used to all manner of make-shifts and hair-breadth escapes, had taken it all in, and saw a way of safety, if the means were but at hand. He looked around, and spied a light shawl lying unheeded upon the ground. He snatched it up, tried its strength, and shook his head.
"'Twon't do," he said, "'taint long enough so; and, if we split it, 'twon't be strong enough."