Annot did not accompany this excited party; it might be that her strength was unequal to it at such an hour and over such ground, or it might be that she had not heart enough for it. There is no secret of the latter, says a French writer, that our actions do not disclose; and as Annot's heart seemed--well, Hester Maule cared not then to analyze it; she was too disgusted to be angry. But Annot, in all her selfish existence, had never before been, as she thought, face to face with the most awful tragedy of life--Death--and she shrank from the too probable necessity now. So she remained behind with Mrs. Lindsay. She was not accustomed to such rough weather and such exhibitions; she would get her poor little feet wet; she was subject to catching cold; the morning was full of rain and wind--it was still quite tempestuous--such was never seen in London; so Maude and Hester swept away in contemptuous silence, leaving her, well shawled and cowering close to the fire in Mrs. Lindsay's luxurious boudoir, and thought no more about her, as she remained motionless, silent, and with her eyes certainly full of tears, fixed on the changing features of the glowing coals, and seeing her hopes of Earlshaugh too probably drifting far away in distance, now! Could this calamity be real? was the ever-recurrent thought in the mind of Hester. It seemed too fearful--too horrible to be true! Was she dreaming, and the victim of a hideous nightmare, from which she would awake? With all their impatience and anxiety to get on, the keepers, servants, and others stepped short in mistaken kindness or courtesy to the two young ladies who accompanied them; but in an incredibly short space of time the yawning Cleugh was reached, where the shepherd's faithful dog was still on guard, bounding to and fro as they approached, barking and yelping wildly; and with hearts that beat high and painfully--every respiration seeming an absolute spasm--Hester and Maude, who clung to Elliot's arm, reached the verge of the chasm, and on looking down saw too surely--as something like a wail escaped the lips of each--Roland lying at the bottom, still and motionless, half in and half out of the burn's rocky bed, as he, by the last efforts of his strength, had painfully dragged or wrenched himself. Exclamations of commiseration and pity were now heard on every hand. 'This way, lads--round by the knowe foot,' cried old Gavin Fowler. 'No--by the other way--the descent is easier!' said Elliot authoritatively; but heedless of both suggestions, Hester Maule, like the gallant girl as she was, took a path of her own, and went plunging down the very face of the rocks, apparently!