The girl turned quickly, once more roused from the sudden fear that had assailed her, and found herself gazing into the sun-tanned face of a young man in khaki. He had slipped his arm back of her, against the railing, as if to prevent her from falling, while from under the shadow of his wide-brimmed hat two dark-blue eyes, heavily lashed, smiled down at her reassuringly. Nathalie heaved a deep sigh. Oh, it was such a relief to see that strong, brown hand grasping the rail. And then, with a quick little smile, in sudden realization of her foolish fancy that she was slipping down into the gorge below, she cried, “Oh, I don’t suppose I could fall, but something—— O dear! I know I am very foolish, but I always feel so queer when I stand on any great height, especially when I look down.” “That is a sensation that is shared by many people when they get up in the air, I guess,” was the kindly response. And then, as if to give the girl time to regain her poise, he turned to Jean. “Do you see that place between the walls?” directing the child’s gaze to a place midway between the top of the gorge and the brook below. “Well, ever since the Flume has been known to white men,” he continued, “a great rock, or boulder, was wedged, or suspended, between the two walls. It was like a nut in a cracker, a most curious sight. “I remember it as a child, when up in the mountains,” he related, “and always had a strange fear that it would tumble down. But every one asserted that it was an impossibility, for it would take an earthquake, or some great convulsion of nature, to dislodge it. Nevertheless I always fought shy of it, and would scurry by as if a witch was after me. But, strange to say,” continued the young man, smiling, and showing his even white teeth, “the prophets were away off, for it fell just a few years ago, and without the aid of an earthquake.” “Oh, did it fall on any one?” gasped the girl quickly. “No, luckily for the wise-alls; for it fell in the middle of the night, and no one was hurt.” Nathalie drew a relieved sigh. “What an escape! Oh, suppose it had fallen when some one was passing beneath it!” [Illustration: The girl found herself gazing into the sun-tanned face of a young man in khaki.—_Page 231._] “Well, they would have been pulverized,” laughed the young man. “I beg your pardon, Miss, but would you not like to have me help you to the top? For I see you have the little boy with you, and, as you are timid, I do not think I would risk it alone.” “Oh, thank you; you are very kind,” replied the girl hastily, her face dimpling, for she had begun to feel like her old self. “But no; I don’t think I will venture any farther. I guess I am too timid. I will go back.” She glanced down at Jean, who was gazing up at the young soldier with worshipful awe in his eyes.