“You will have it with a vengeance, if you start from there. It’s far too steep. Don’t be obstinate now, and get into trouble. Evie will be furious with you.”
“Why should she be? There’s no rule against it. I’m not doing anything wrong... Get out of the way, please. I’m coming!”
“No, no; wait, wait! Wait until Evie comes back, and says you may. She will be here in a moment. Do wait, Rhoda, just one minute!”
But Rhoda would not wait. Although, as she had argued, there was no rule forbidding what she was about to do, she had an instinctive feeling that Evie was too anxious about the safety of her charges to give consent to anything that involved unnecessary risk. Evie’s absence was her opportunity, and she must act now or never; so, seating herself firmly on her toboggan, she called out the last word of warning; “I’m coming, I tell you! Stand back!”
“You will break your neck! You will kill yourself, if you are so mad!”
“Oh, bother my neck! I’ll risk it! I’ll not blame you if it is broken!” cried Rhoda, recklessly; and even as she spoke the last word the toboggan shot forward and bounded over the edge. Bounded is the right word to use, for it did not seem to glide, but to leap from top to bottom with a lightning-like speed which took away breath, sight, and hearing. That first moment was a terrible blank and then she shot over the path itself, and was flying down, down the slope, drawing her breath in painful gasps, and staring before her with distended eyes.
The girls on the bank were craning forward to watch her approach. She saw the blur of their whitened faces, and behind them a little figure running wildly forward, waving its arms and crying aloud:
“Girls, girls! Jump! Run! Get away, get away!”
The words rang meaningless in her ears, for she was dazed beyond the power of thought. The running figure drew nearer and nearer, still waving its hands, still calling out that agonised cry. The girls disappeared to right and left, but the figure itself was close at hand—closer—closer—at her very side. Then came a shock, a jar. Evie’s tottering figure fell forward over her own; Evie’s shriek of anguish rang in her ears, and then came blackness—a blackness as of death!