She was certainly a very handsome girl, especially if you added her hair to the catalogue. It was golden--shades lighter than Pam’s--a real bright gold colour, thick and long. She sat down sideways--all her attitudes were graceful, like Pamela’s. "Why did you come for him?" she asked, making a sign towards Reube. "Why did you come after me?" retorted Pamela; she _felt_ instinctively something the least bit supercilious in the look and manner of the other. "I was near the shed where carts are put, and I saw you. I have seen you before, and I wished to know----" she paused, then went on, skipping what she "wished to know", "I saw you put your basket on the cliff and go down. So I waited to know why you climbed in such bad weather. After a while I came after you to see what happened. If you had called I should have come more quickly." Pamela in return told why she had come back. She related what Mrs. Ensor had said. "When I got to that cart-shed, it rushed over me all in one instant that the crying sea-gull was Reube. I _had_ to come back. Don’t you have those sort of convictions sometimes--you know--when there’s no earthly sense in a thing yet you’re perfectly sure it must be." The other girl shook her head. "Oh no. I don’t feel like that," she said, "I do what I choose, when I wish to do it, that’s all." Then she glanced up at the cliff just above them and went on with decision. "We cannot take him by that way. It is less steep the path I came down. We must go along--then up. See, now, he is very small and light, we can carry him between us, it will be easy for two." *CHAPTER X* *Life or Death on the Beak Cliff* Afterwards, Pamela found she had rather an indistinct recollection of that journey to the cliff top. One thing was certain, she could not have done it without the help of her double. They carried Reube in a sort of sling made by their own cotton petticoats. It was the strange girl’s notion, and proved quite practical. Each girl wore a petticoat. One supported the boy’s head and shoulders, and one his legs--any other method would have been impossible, because of the injured foot, that is to say, without causing terrible pain to Reuben. He came to himself while he was being trussed into this amateur sling, and stared at the new girl with such interest that Pamela felt it was as good as "burnt feathers" for curing faintness. "Hullo, Reube," she said, laughing, "now we shan’t be long--shall we?" "No, Miss," agreed Reube in a weak voice. "Hold on this," ordered the stranger. "Yes, Miss, I’ll ’old to it," he gazed from one girl to the other with interest. That was the beginning. The end was on the top resting near the egg basket--with Reube like a mummy flat on the grass, and the pair of girls taking breath. "I’m awfully obliged to you," said Pamela, "really grateful beyond words. I should have had to stay there all night."