on, begotten of the constant throbbing of
his sprained wrist, and the dull, dead ache of his bruised knee. He
would have given much for some brandy-and-water, but it was unobtainable
by any means short of disturbing the household in the dead of midnight,
and this he did not care to do. Stay, though! There was his flask. It
might still contain a little of the ardently desired stimulant. Quickly
he found it, and a shake resulting in a grateful gurgle, announced that
it was nearly half full.

But alas for the uncertainty of human hopes! The stopper was jammed,
and flatly refused to be unscrewed. With both hands he might have
managed it, but with the use of only one the thing was impossible. In
vain he tried every conceivable device for holding the flask, while with
his uninjured hand he twisted frantically at the stopper. It would not
yield.

"Tantalus, with a vengeance," he growled wearily. "If it were made of
glass instead of this infernal metal, I'd knock the head off."

Faint and sick, he staggered back to bed, feeling about as miserable as
a man can under the circumstances. It was a cool night, almost a cold
one, still, in his feverish unrest, Roden had thrown the window wide
open. As he lay, he could see the loom of the great hills against the
star-gemmed vault, which was cloudless now, and there floated ever and
anon the cry of a night-bird, or prowling animal from the wild
mountain-side. The sight, the sounds, carried his meditations back to
the strange and well-nigh tragic events of the day. A kind of fate
seemed to have overhung them from the very beginning. Why had Mona
suddenly and unexpectedly insisted upon joining the party? But for her,
he would have met with a terrible death, crushed to atoms at the foot of
the great cliff. There had been no exaggeration in his statement to
that effect, and now, lying there in the darkness and silence of night,
when the mind, in a state of wakefulness, is most active, he realised it
more fully than ever. But for her strong courageous handgrip, he could
not have maintained his position two minutes. Had she been of the kind
of women who faint and scream, and altogether lose their heads, his fate
had been sealed. But no. She had behaved grandly, courageously,
heroically. Was it ruled that her fate was to be bound up with his? he
wondered, as he reflected upon the strangely spontaneous manner in which
her secret had escaped her. And here the inherent cy