ind a mist of thin grey vapour, now wholly obscured
behind jagged masses of black cloud, and occasionally shining
brilliantly from a little patch of clear sky. Tallente waited for one
of the latter moments before he finally tested the rope which was wound
around the strongest of the young pine trees and stepped over the rustic
wooden paling at the edge of the lookout He stood there balanced between
earth and sky, until Robert, who watched him, shivered. "There is
nothing to fear," his master said coolly. "Remember, I am an old hand
at mountain climbing, Robert. All the same, if anything should happen,
you'd better say that we fancied we heard a cry from down below and I
went to see what it was. You understand?"

"Yes, sir!"

Tallente took a step into what seemed to be Eternity. The rope cut into
his hands for the first three or four yards, as the red sand crumbled
away beneath his feet, and he was obliged to grip for his life.
Presently he gained a little ledge, from which a single yew tree was
growing, and paused for breath.

"Are you all right, sir?" Robert called out from above.

"Quite," was the confident answer. "I shall be off again in a minute."

Tallente's head had been the wonder even of members of the Alpine Club,
years ago in Switzerland. He found himself now in this strangest of all
positions, absolutely steady and unmoved. Sheer below him, dark,
rushing waves broke upon the rocks, sending showers of glittering spray
upwards. Above, the little lookout with its rustic paling seemed almost
more than directly overhead. The few stars and the fugitive moon seemed
somehow set in a different sky. He felt a new kinship with a great gull
who came floating by. He had become himself a creature of the wild
places. Presently he began once more to let himself down, hand over
hand, to where the next little clump of trees showed a chance of a
precarious foothold. The rope chafed his fingers but he remained
absolutely steady. Once he trusted for a moment to a yew tree, growing
out of a fissure in the rock, which came out by the roots and went
hurtling down into space. From overhead he heard Robert's terrified
cry. The rope stood the strain of his sudden clutch, however, and all
was well. A little lower down, holding on with one hand, he took his
torch from his pocket and examined the surface of the cliff. Nothing
apparently had been disturbed, nor was there any sign of any heavy body
having been dashed through the under