Detective and mystery stories; Mackinac Island (Mich. : Island) -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
But Isabel's philosophy did not relieve Anne's fear. She called to
Valeria, warningly, "You are very near the edge, Miss Morle; wouldn't it
be safer to step back a little?"
But Valeria would not. They were all noticing her at last. They should
see how strong her nerves were, how firm her poise. The smokers below,
too, were now observing her. She threw back her head, and hummed a
little tune. If the edge did not crumble, she was, in truth, safe
enough. To a person who is not dizzy, five inches of foot-hold is as
safe as five yards.
But--the edge did crumble. And suddenly. The group of women behind had
the horror, of seeing her sway, stagger, slip down, frantically writhe
on the verge half an instant, and then, with an awful scream, slide over
out of sight, as her arm was wrenched from the little tree. Those below
had seen it too. They sprang to their feet, and ran first forward, then
round and up the hill behind.
For she had not slipped far. The cliff jutted out slightly a short
distance below the verge, and, by what seemed a miracle, the girl was
held by this second edge. Eight inches beyond, the sheer precipice
began, with the pile of broken stones sixty feet below. Anne was the
first to discover this, reaching 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."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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