on one knee, pretending to fasten a button
of his gaiters, and drew a long breath while he watched for his
chance. Presently Muskingon straightened himself up and, as if
satisfied with his inspection, began to lead the way again, slanting
his course away from the bank and back towards the selvage of the
woods. Menehwehna followed close, and Barboux shouldered his musket
and fell into third place, grunting to John to hurry after.

And so John did--for a dozen paces back from the river.
Then, swinging quickly on his heel, he dashed for the brink, and
leapt.

So sudden was the manoeuvre that not until his feet left the rock--it
seemed, at that very instant--did he hear the sergeant's oath of
dismay. Even as he flew across the whirling darkness, his ear was
listening for the shot to follow.

The take-off--a flat slab of rock--was good, and the leap well timed.
But he had allowed too little, perhaps, for his weariness and his
recent wound; and in the darkness he had not seen that of the two
brinks the far one stood the higher by many inches. In mid-air he
saw it, and flung his arms forward as he pitched against it little
more than breast-high. His fingers clutched vainly for hold, while
his toes scraped the face of the rock, but found no crevice to
support them.

Had his body dropped a couple of inches lower before striking the
bank, or had the ledge shelved a degree or two more steeply, or had
it been smooth or slippery with rain, he must have fallen backward
into the chasm. As it was, his weight rested so far forward upon his
arms that, pressing his elbows down upon the rock, he heaved himself
over on the right side of the balance, fell on his face and chest,
and so wriggled forward until he could lift a knee.

The roar of the waters drowned all other noise. Only that faint cry
of Barboux had followed him across. But now, as he scrambled to his
feet, he heard a sudden thud on the ledge behind him. A hand
clutched at his heel, out of the night. At once he knew that his
stratagem had failed, that Barboux would not fire, that Muskingon was
upon him. He turned to get at grips; but, in the act of turning,
felt his brain open and close again with a flame and a crash,
stretched out both arms, and pitched forward into darkness.

It seemed--for he knew no break in his sensations--that the ground,
as he touched it, became strangely soft and elastic. For a while he
wondered at this idly, then opened his eyes--bu