_Charley_ (whose long-suffering patience is plainly exhausted). “You mean that I am to be kept off and on until you are tired of amusing yourself, or until you decide to marry some rich prig like Lanier. Thanks exceedingly, but I don’t fancy the _rôle_, and I am sure you could answer me now if you chose to do so. We’ve known each other long enough!” _Sylvia_ (with a sigh): “Too long for romance. There is no possibility of the illusion that ought to accompany the tender passion. Why, I know all your weak points as well as you know mine!” _Charley._ “So much the better!—we’ll have less to learn after marriage. I don’t believe in illusions—I can’t see that they serve any good end. I had rather love one woman than a dozen angels. Now, Sylvia, just one word—” _Sylvia_ (impatiently): “I won’t! I haven’t any word to say—do let me alone.” _Charley_ (speaking with dark emphasis): “You had better tell me. I have made up my mind not to stand this state of affairs any longer. If the worst comes to the worst, I’ll have it out with Lanier.” _Sylvia_ (sarcastically): “Pray do! That would help matters so much.” By the time the conversation has reached this point we gain the fall, and Mr. Brandon says: “Be careful where you step, and follow me exactly.” I am careful, and follow him exactly—hence I emerge in safety on the farther side; but there are other members of the party not so fortunate. What evil spirit possesses Charley I do not know, but he certainly pauses midway in the passage and turns—thus forcing Sylvia, who is behind, to pause also. The torrent of water is pouring in a cataract of foam and spray before their eyes, its noise fills their ears. Yet the reckless young fellow absolutely seizes his companion’s hand and holds it in a vice-like pressure. “Now,” he says, “you _shall_ answer me! I’ll not let you pass until you do. Is it yes or no?” “Charley, how dare you!” cries Sylvia, amazed and indignant. “I—I _won’t_ be bullied in this manner! Let me pass.” “I’ll let you pass the instant you say yes or no,” replies Charley, inexorably; “not before on any account.” “_No_, then!” she cries, with all the emphasis of which she is capable under the circumstances, and, snatching her hand from his grasp, she endeavors to dart past him—but the stepping-stones are slippery and unstable. She loses her footing, and he has barely time to seize her as she sinks under the Bridal-Veil Fall. [Illustration: “He has barely time to seize her as she sinks under the Bridal-Veil Fall.”] CHAPTER XVI. “Nature has known no change, felt no decay, For untold ages in this ancient land; Her dark woods wave, her rivers hold their way, Majestic as when first from Nature’s hand; Down the dread depths, as in the dawn of time, The raging cataracts their waters urge.”