the verge as the girl sank out of
sight; the others, shuddering, put their hands over their eyes and clung
together.

"She has not fallen far," cried Anne, with a quick and burning
excitement. "Lie still, Valeria," she called down. "Close your eyes,
and make yourself perfectly motionless; hardly breathe. We will save you
yet."

She took hold of the young tree to test its strength, at the same time
speaking rapidly to the others. "By lying down, and clasping that tree
trunk with one arm, and then stretching over, I can just reach her hand,
I think, and seize it. Do you see? That is what I am going to try to do.
I can not tell how strong this tree is; but--there is not a moment to
lose. After I am down, and have her hand, do anything you think best to
secure us. Either hold me yourselves or make ropes of your sacques and
shawls. If help comes soon, we can save her." While still speaking, she
threw herself down upon the edge, clasped one arm strongly round the
tree trunk, and stretching down sideways, her head and shoulder over the
verge, she succeeded in first touching, then clasping, the wrist of the
girl below, who could not see her rescuer as she lay facing the
precipice with closed eyes, helpless and inert. It was done, but only
two girls' wrists as a link.

The others had caught hold of Anne as strongly as they could.

"No," said Isabel, taking command excitedly; "one of you hold her
firmly, and the rest clasp arms and form a chain, all sitting down, to
that large tree in the rear. If the strain comes, throw yourselves
toward the large tree."

So they formed a chain. Isabel, looking over, saw that the girl below
had clasped Anne's wrist with her own fingers also--a strong grasp, a
death-grasp. If she slipped farther, Anne must slip too.

All this had not taken two minutes--scarcely a minute and a half. They
were now all motionless; they could hear the footsteps of the men
hurrying up the hill behind, coming nearer and nearer. But how slow they
were! How long! The men were exactly three minutes, and it is safe to
say that never in their lives had they rushed up a hill with such
desperate haste and energy. But--women expect wings.

Heathcote and Dexter reached the summit first. There they beheld five
white-cheeked women, dressed in various dainty floating fabrics, and
adorned with ferns and wild flowers, sitting on the ground, clasping
each others' hands and arms. They formed a line, of which the woman at
one