"This horrible spot makes the head swim."
"Steady, Bill, steady," said Rhodes. "Here, hold her while I get a grip with my other arm. Then I'll get a hold on you with my right."
"We'll all be dragged over."
"Nonsense," said Rhodes. "And, besides, I've got a hold with my feet now, in a crack or something."
A few moments, and I was again reaching down, Rhodes' grip upon me this time. Again I laid hold on the angel's arm, and again she and I drew the monster up. This time, though, I got my other hand too on the chain. And yet, even then, the chain hanging slack above my hand, the angel was some time in freeing her own, from the fingers of which blood was dropping. But at last she had loosened the chain, and then I let go my hold upon it, and down the demon went, still flapping its wings, though feebly now, and disappeared into those black and fearful depths.
I have no recollection of any sound coming up. In all probability a sound came. Little wonder, forsooth, that I did not hear it.
A moment, and I was back from the edge, and Milton and I were drawing the angel to the safety of that narrow way. She sank back in Rhodes' arms, her eyes closed, her head, almost hidden in the gleaming golden hair, on his shoulder.
"She's fainted," said I.
"Little wonder if she has, Bill."
But she had not. Scarcely had he spoken when she opened her eyes. At once she sat up, and I saw a faint color suffuse those snowy features.