me," she
said. "The earth seems slipping away from me. Oh, Victor, what if it
should be fatal?"

"Do not imagine such a thing," he said. "It is impossible! The plant
has probably some narcotic property which affects you temporarily.
Lean on me until it is over. My God! how mad I was to have suffered
you to eat it!"

"Do not blame yourself," she said, clinging to him, her fair head
drooping heavily on his breast. "It was I who spoke of it--who sent
for it--"

She stopped, gasping a little, and pressing her hand to her heart,
where an iron clutch seemed arresting the circulation. A glance at her
face filled Clare with a terror which he had not felt before. Partly
this, partly his own sensations, told him that the poison of the plant
which they had shared between them _was_ fatal--one of the swift and
terrible agents of death which abound in the East--and a sense too
horrible to be dwelt upon came to him, warning him that aid, to avail
at all, must be summoned quickly.

But how? The summit of the mountain was large, the rest of the party
were far from them. He had purposely led his companion to this remote
spot, where, even if he had been able to raise his voice, there was
none to hear. As for leaving her, he doubted his own ability to walk
ten steps. He felt sure that if he succeeded in gaining his feet he
should reel and fall like a drunken man.

Still, the attempt must be made, and that instantly. Every second
lessened the hope of its success--with every pulse-beat he felt the
awful, reeling numbness increase. How much longer he could retain
his consciousness he could not tell. He saw plainly that Eleanor was
losing hers.

"My darling," he said, striving vainly to unclasp the arms that clung
to him, "I must go--I must call assistance: this may be more serious
than I thought. Try to rouse yourself, Eleanor: I must go!"

Alas! it was easy to say--it was awfully impossible to do. Even when
Eleanor relaxed her already half-unconscious embrace, and he strove
to rise, he found that not even desperation could give the requisite
power. He literally could not gain his feet. Every effort failed: he
sank back hopelessly.

Then he tried to raise his voice in a cry for help, but it refused
to obey his bidding. He was not able to speak above a broken whisper.
Finding this to be the case, he turned in an agony of despair to the
girl beside him--the girl whom, with a last effort, he drew to his
breast.

"Eleanor," he said