“The shades of night were falling fast
When through an Alpine Village passed
A youth, who bore ’mid snow and ice
A banner with the strange device,
Excelsior!”
repeated Lesley, obediently.
“Oh, yes, I remember. Excelsior! Excelsior!”—and up the remaining steps the boy scampered like a squirrel.
Arrived at the platform above, Lesley settled herself with her book on a coil of rope and began to read the story of “Perlino,” that enchanting youth made of wax and sugar and rosewater and roseleaves and pearls and rubies and sapphires and yellow sewing-silk by the Princess who was so unsatisfied with the ordinary ready-made lover. Ronald found his rod and line, baited his hook from a supply that Stumpy always had on hand, and, sitting down on the edge of the platform, began to fish for the pink rock cod found in abundance around the island. He had been trusted to do this for a year, now, so long as some one was with him to see that he did not attempt any too daring feats, and Lesley felt no particular uneasiness as she glanced up from her story, only called, “Be careful, Ronnie, won’t you?”
“’Fraid Cat! ’Fraid Cat!” shouted Ronald, scornfully, turning his head toward her, but in a moment came a long shrill scream, “Lesley! Lesley! I’m falling!”—and springing to her feet the frightened girl saw her brother slip over the edge of the platform borne down by the weight of his rod. An unusually large fish must have caught suddenly at the bait, given it a tug when Ronald was not watching, and overbalanced the little fisherman.
Beneath the platform was a sheer wall of black rock, and below that, five or six feet of water into which Ronald, screaming for help, was plunged. Lesley realized, even in that moment of terrible fear, that her father and Stumpy were near at hand and, screaming for help, too, she rushed to Ronald’s assistance with a long fish-gaff that stood near by.