‘Where then?’ Tapping the turf carpet with her naked foot.
‘I know; only I mustn’t say.’
‘Just say it out.’
‘To the Cave; the Cave of the Great Scrape, where we went before.’
‘Madness! You’ll just be killed, if you try it.’
‘Was I killed the first time?’
‘I helped you.’
‘I want you to help me again.’
‘I wonder why I like you at all, and I do like you so much.’ Then, after a pause, ‘If God meant to let you be killed, He would never make me help to do it. Come along.’
This feat of engineering having been once described, the courteous reader may wish to be spared the repetition of its details. It is enough to say that I was soon walking along the narrow ridge, with my eyes closed, by order, and with my hands on the shoulders of Victoria, who led the way. Just before the eyes closed, they caught one look of tenderest concern in hers that was a thing to remember for a lifetime. When I was allowed to open them again, we were both in the Cave. Victoria left, the moment she saw me safe, promising to come back in an hour, and fetch me out.