There stood Etty on a narrow ledge, over a deep pool, clinging to a small, slender bush, and screaming with all her might; while Stella, with a pale face but steady step; was walking along the dangerous path towards her sister.
"Stop, Stella, I command you!" called Mr. Grey. "Etty, keep still and be quiet. I will see what can be done."
But Etty was past hearing reason. As Stella drew near her, she threw herself forward and seized hold of her sister. Stella tottered, lost her balance, and both the children fell into the pool below. When Etty came to herself she was lying on the bed, in a room of the fisherman's little house on the point, with Eleanor and the fisherman's wife attending upon her, but Stella was not to be seen.
"Keep still, Etty," said Eleanor, as Etty tried to rise.
"But where is Stella? I want Stella!" cried Etty.
"Stella cannot come to you, and you must not go to her," said Eleanor, seeing that Etty was determined to get up. "You have done terrible mischief by your perverseness and folly, Esther, and the only amends you can make is to try and do no more."
There was something in Eleanor's tone which quieted Etty at once.
"Is Stella dead?" she asked, in an awestruck whisper.
"No—at least we hope not—but she has not revived yet, and we fear that her head is hurt. Be quiet now, and drink the tea Mrs. Fiske is bringing you."
It was a long time before Stella came to herself, and when she did, she knew no one. She was carried on board the steamer and laid on one sofa and Etty on another. As the boat drew near to the wharf, Stella opened her eyes, and seeing her aunt bending over her, she said, feebly: "Please, aunt, don't scold Etty."