"Abel—Abel Dare," faintly uttered a low, quavering voice.
"Edith—thank God! I feared you were dead!"
"No—better that I was, perhaps. But you, oh! Abel, why did you act so rashly, when you were once safely beyond the reach of these demons?" and Edith groaned.
"I saw him raise his coward hand and strike you—I saw you fall as though dead, and it made a madman of me. I thought only of avenging your murder, and—"
"So got caught yourself—'zactly so, my children," added the harsh voice of Grable, as he advanced and seized Abel by the collar. "But you've talked a-plenty fer now. Don't be impatient, little 'un; I'll come fer you in a minnit."
He dragged the captive over the ground toward the outer rim of the camp, which was in the rocky hollow from which the passage started. Near this outer boundary of the spot was a deep rift or pit in which to fall was to go to doom. Gaining the ledge, Grable lifted Dare upon his feet, pointing one hand down to the plain below. The Indians were hastily gathering fuel from among the rocks to the left, where it had fallen down the cliff from the trees above. A considerable pile was already collected.
"More'n enough to roast you to a turn, anyhow," chuckled Grable. "I put it down thar so the smell won't bother my new squaw in thar. We'll set here, looking at ye. So screw up your courage—'member a woman 'll be lookin' on."
Abel bit his lips hard, and threw all the strength of his frame into one effort to burst his bonds; but in vain. The stout skin did not betray its trust.
"No use, man—not a bit. You're booked fer—"
Why did Seth Grable pause so suddenly and turn his eyes down upon the plain? Why did the savages drop their loads of wood and dash toward the trail leading upward to the cavern? Why did Abel Dare utter such an exultant cry?