The Vision of Desire Part 6

RATS IN A TRAP

Breathless, her heart thudding painfully in her side, Ann reached the ravine and, throwing herself face downwards on the ground, crawled to the edge. For an instant she closed her eyes, shrinking with a sick dread from what they might show her--Tony's young, lithe body lying broken on the rocks below, or, perhaps, only the dark blur of some awful and unmeasured depth which would never give up its dead.

It was by a sheer effort of will that she at last forced herself to open her eyes and peer downward. Immediately beneath the brink of the chasm the ground dropped vertically for a few feet, but below that again it sloped gradually outwards, culminating in a broad, projecting ledge which formed the lip of the actual precipice itself. Tony lay on the ledge, motionless, with outflung arms and white, upturned face. He had evidently lost his footing, and, after the first drop, rolled helplessly downward. Only the presence of a jagged, upstanding piece of rock had saved him from falling clean over into the depths below.

Strain as she might to see, Ann could not tell whether he were dead or merely insensible, and the agony of uncertainty seemed to drain her of all strength. For a few moments she lay where she was, unable to control the trembling of her limbs, her aching eyes staring fixedly down at the still, p.r.o.ne figure on the ledge below. But the paralysing terror pa.s.sed, and, at length, though still rather shakily, she dragged herself to her feet. She must go to him--somehow she must get down to where he lay.

At first she could think of no way of reaching him. Although he himself had attempted, and very nearly successfully accomplished, the upward climb to the brow of the ravine, she knew she dared not attempt to make the descent at that same spot. If there were no way round, she would have to go back to the hotel in search of help. But that would take an hour or more! And meanwhile Tony was lying there untended. She couldn't wait! She must get to him--get to him at once, and know whether he were living or dead. She flung herself down on the ground once more and cast a despairing glance at the inaccessible shelf of rock where he lay. Then it appeared to her that, although narrowing as it went, it ran upwards, forming a kind of rough track below the overhanging summit which, further along, might debouch on to the crest of the ravine.

Springing to her feet, she hurried desperately along the top in the direction which the track seemed to take, and at length, with a gasping sigh of relief, came to a wide fissure that slanted down to meet it.

She was sure-footed as a deer, her slim, supple body balancing itself almost instinctively, but even so the traversing of that narrow, rocky ledge, in parts not more than a foot wide, was a severe test of her endurance. A single false step meant death, instantaneous and inevitable, and the whole terrible ten minutes which it took her to complete the short distance was poignant with the dread of what she might discover at its end.

Moving very cautiously, her bare hands sliding across the rough face of the rock as she edged her way forward, she came at last to where the ledge widened out and the ground above sloped gently upwards. A few steps more and she could see Tony's young, supine figure. The last three yards were accomplished at a run, and an instant later she was kneeling beside him, thrusting swift, urgent hands beneath his shirt to feel whether his heart still beat. The throb of it came softly against her palms--warm, and pulsatingly _alive_!

Ann rocked a little on her knees. She felt sick and giddy with reaction from the almost intolerable strain of the last few minutes. Then she caught sight of a vivid glint of blue--a single gentian bloom still tightly clasped in the boy's hand, and quite suddenly she began to cry, the tears running unchecked down her face. And it was just then that Tony came back to consciousness--to the vague consciousness of something wet splashing down on to his face. He stirred and opened his eyes.

"Tony!" Ann's voice was hoa.r.s.e with relief.

His eyes blinked at her uncertainly.

"h.e.l.lo!" he said rather feebly. "What's happened?"

"I thought you were killed!" she cried unsteadily. "Oh, Tony, I thought you were killed!"

He regarded her consideringly.

"No," he replied seriously. "I'm not at all killed. Why should I be killed?" Then, clearer consciousness returning: "Am I talking rot? What's happened?"

Ann slipped her arm beneath his shoulders and raised him a little so that his head rested on her lap.

"You fell," she said, trying to speak calmly. "You were climbing up and you fell. Where are you hurt, Tony?"

"Oh, I remember.... Yes, I fell--just as I was getting to the top. A rotten old stump gave way under my foot."

"But where are you hurt?" persisted Ann anxiously.

"I don't think I _am_ hurt." He stretched his limbs tentatively. "No, there's nothing broken. I feel a bit buzzy in the head, that's all."

He tried to lift himself up, but Ann pressed him back against her knees.

"Don't move! Don't move!" she cried hastily. "Lie still for a few minutes.

Are you sure--_sure_ you're not hurt?"

"Bet you a tenner I'm not," he replied, with the ghost of a grin. "My head's clearing, too. I was only knocked out of time for a minute. Don't worry." He put up his hand and touched her cheek. "Why, you're quite pale, Ann."

"I _felt_ pale--when I saw you fall," she answered grimly. Her spirits were returning now that she was a.s.sured he was uninjured. "I was certain you must be killed."

"It would have been one way out of it all, wouldn't it?" he replied with a touch of bitterness.

"Oh, hush! Don't speak like that."

"I won't--if it annoys you. But, anyway, you needn't worry. I shan't die young. The G.o.ds don't love me enough."

Ann ignored this.

"Do you think you could stand now?" she asked practically.

Tony's eyes gleamed mirthfully.

"I'm very comfortable as I am," he remarked, rubbing his cheek against her skirt.

She resisted the temptation to smile.

"I'm not--particularly," she returned briefly. "I've got cramp."

He sat up at once.

"Oh, by Jove! Why didn't you say so before?"

"Because I hadn't got it before. I was much too concerned about you to have time for it. How do you feel? Shall I help you up?"

But Tony disclaimed the necessity for any a.s.sistance. As he said, he had only been knocked out of time for a few minutes. He might have been made of indiarubber for all the actual harm his fall had done him. He rose to his feet without difficulty and proceeded to help Ann to hers.

"How do we get back?" he asked. Then, glancing upwards: "I'm hanged if I'm going to try and climb up there a second time. How on earth did you get here? You didn't drop from the skies, I suppose, like an angel?"

"There's a ledge--it's rather narrow, but one can just squeeze round, and it brings you out somewhere on the top. Are you sure you can manage it, though? You won't turn faint or anything?"--anxiously.

"No"--with impish gravity. "I shan't 'turn faint or anything.' In fact, I could dance a hornpipe here if you liked. Still, I'll hold your hand--just in case of accidents"--audaciously. "Shall I go first? Oh, by the way"--he paused. "Here's your blue gentian. Won't you have it?"

Ann felt her throat contract as she recalled what the little blue flower had so nearly cost. Her eyes filled in spite of herself.

"Good heavens! Don't cry over it!" Tony laughed carelessly. He had recovered his usual bantering manner of speech which yet always seemed to hold an undercurrent of bitterness. "It's not worth that. See, I'll chuck it away, so that it can't remind you of the unpleasant shock I gave you this afternoon."

He tossed the flower over the edge of the ravine. For an instant it seemed to hover in the air like a blue b.u.t.terfly. Then it sank slowly out of sight.

"Here endeth the first lesson," commented Tony.

"Lesson on what?"

"On trying to get things which an all-wise Providence has considerately placed out of your reach." Without giving her time to reply, he continued: "Give me your hand--no, you must"--as she hung back. "I'm not going to have you risking this ledge again alone."

He extended one hand behind him, and, recognising the uselessness of argument, Ann yielded and laid hers in it. Somehow she was not altogether sorry to feel that friendly, human grip. In single file they made the perilous return journey along the narrow track, emerging at length on to safe ground. Ann withdrew her hand with a sigh of relief. It was good to feel that they were out of danger at last.

"I think we shall have to hurry if we are to catch our train," she said, keeping determinedly to the practical side of affairs. She felt she did not want to discuss their adventure. It was too vividly impressed upon her mind and had all too nearly ended in disaster. It seemed as though, the wings of Death had brushed her as he pa.s.sed by.

Tony pulled out his watch.