distance
at all it will be by getting a lead all the way. And I am going to give
it to him." So we started together.

Natalie was waiting for us a little further on. I spoke to her, but she
did not answer. From the moment that Brande had commanded her to
accompany us, her manner had remained absolutely passive. What I
ordered, she obeyed. That was all. Instead of being alarmed by the
horrors of the ride, she did not seem to be even interested. I had not
leisure, however, to reflect on this. For the first time in the whole
race she spoke to us.

"Would it not be better if Edith rode on?" she said. "I can take her
place. It seems useless to sacrifice her. It does not matter to me. I
cannot now be afraid."

"I am afraid; but I remain," Edith said resolutely.

The ground under us began to heave. Whole acres of it swayed disjointed.
We were galloping on oscillating fragments, which trembled beneath us
like floating logs under boys at play. To jump these cracks--sometimes
an upward bank, sometimes a deep drop, in addition to the width of the
seam, had to be taken--pumped out the failing horses, and the hope that
was left to us disappeared utterly.

The glare of the red light behind waxed fiercer still, and a low
rumbling as of distant thunder began to mutter round us. The air became
difficult to breathe. It was no longer air, but a mephitic stench that
choked us with disgusting fumes. Then a great shock shook the land, and
right in front of us a seam opened that must have been fully fifteen
feet in width. Natalie was the first to see it. She observed it too late
to stop.

In the same mechanical way as she had acted before, she settled herself
in the saddle, struck the pony with her hand, and raced him at the
chasm. He cleared it with little to spare. Edith's took it next with
less. Then my turn came. Before I could shake up my tired horse,
Mademoiselle Veret said quickly:

"Monsieur has done enough. He will now permit me to alight. This time
the horse cannot jump over with both."

"He shall jump over with both, Mademoiselle, or he shall jump in," I
answered. "Don't look down when we are crossing."

The horse just got over, but he came to his knees, and we fell forward
over his shoulder. The girl's head struck full on a slab of rock, and a
faint moan was all that told me she was alive as I arose half stunned to
my feet. My first thought was for the horse, for on him all depended. He
was uninjured, apparently, but