Eckenrod’s eyes opened and he stared blankly at her.
“Who are you?” he muttered. “How did you get down here?”
“I fell, the same as you. I’m Penny Parker, the girl you met yesterday at the monastery.”
With her help, the artist pulled himself up on an elbow.
“I remember you now,” he mumbled. “Did you see that hunchback push me down here?”
“Yes, I did. It was a brutal thing to do. I think now he may have gone for a rope.”
“Don’t you believe it!” Eckenrod said bitterly. “He wouldn’t help us if we were freezing to death! The man is a thief! He was stealing my wood! I’ll have the law on him!”
“First we have to get out of here,” Penny reminded him. “That’s not going to be easy.”
Eckenrod became sober as he studied the sharp walls of the crevasse. The only possible handhold was a ledge well above their heads.
“If you can boost me up, I think I can make it,” Penny said. “Then I’ll go for help.”