Frank Reade, Jr., was so astonished that for a moment he knew not what to do or say.
He watched her intently.
Despite the shadows the distance was not so great but that he could see plainly the expression of pain upon her face.
Frank crept close to the verge of the chasm.
He felt like speaking to her, but refrained from some motive.
The distance between himself and the fair prisoner, for such he judged her to be, was not more than thirty feet.
A whisper can almost be heard at this distance, as is well known.
For several moments the girl prisoner stood there inactive. Then suddenly she began to sing in a low, sweet, thrilling voice.
It was a love ballad, the song of a broken heart.
The melody was divine, and the singer’s words were so intense and pathetic that Frank’s whole sympathies went out to her.