“A blighted life!” she sighed, “a blighted life!”
A sudden shriek shook her up out of her day-dream.
“Nana!” cried Dalima, “the gentlemen are coming.”
And indeed, to Anna’s horror, she then saw in the bend of the path Murowski, van Nerekool, and Grenits, coming along with all speed. Without taking one instant for deliberation she dashed down the slope which led to the awful precipice before her.
“Nana! Nana!” cried Dalima beside herself with terror, “what are you about?”
The poor Javanese girl did her best to follow her companion; but, before she could fairly stagger to her feet, Anna was far ahead of her, and, fagged and exhausted as Dalima was, she could not pursue her quickly enough. As she neared the edge of the slope which ended in a perpendicular wall of rock running straight down to the sea, she could see Anna lay hold of the upper steps of the rottang-ladder which led down to the deep below.
“Nana! Nana!” she cried in heartrending accents.
She rushed on—she saw her young mistress place one foot carefully upon the ladder—she saw her body gradually disappearing.
“Nana! Nana!”
Now, only Anna’s head was visible. That also disappeared, and she could only see one hand clutching at the topmost rung.