By and by the sunlight faded off the rocks above, the trees below grew shadowy, and Millicent began to feel anxious and to envy the others who would, no doubt, be sitting down to their evening meal. They would miss her and set out in search; but they might not reach her until it was dark, when it would be difficult to extricate her, and she had no desire to spend the night among the rocks. She made another determined attempt to get up, but slid back, nearly slipping over the edge, while her sketch-book went clattering far below. Then she sat still, calling out at intervals. The light grew dimmer, white mists began to trail about the heights above, and Millicent was getting cold. She was also getting angry--it looked as if the others were too busy eating or talking to care what had become of her; some of them ought to have come in search. She felt a grievance against Lisle in particular. Why she should blame him more than Nasmyth or Carew was not very clear, except that he was more used to the country; but she felt that he ought to have come to her rescue. Then, fearing that she would have to spend the night on the hillside, she carefully crept toward a small level space near a jutting rock and sat down, shivering, while dusk slowly crept across the bush. CHAPTER XXVII AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE Millicent had no intention of going to sleep among the rocks, but after a while she grew drowsy, and when at length she raised her head with a start the moon hung over the hills across the river, flooding the heights above her with a silvery light. The trees below were sharper in form, but everything was very still; only the thunder of the fall seemed to have increased in depth of tone. Millicent shivered from the cold as she sent a sharp cry ringing across the woods. This time it was answered, and she recognized the voice. Looking down, she could see Lisle's black figure moving cautiously along the ledge, for although the lower rocks were wrapped in shadow it is never altogether dark in the northern summer. Coming out into the moonlight, he examined the slab of rock which had arrested her descent, but when he spoke she was not quite pleased with his very matter-of-fact tone. It left something to be desired--she thought he might have displayed more satisfaction at finding her safe. "Is there anything you could catch hold of at the top?" he asked. "If so, you'd better lower yourself until I can reach you." Anxious as she was to get down, Millicent hesitated; if she did as he suggested she would descend into his arms. She was not unduly prudish, and indeed, after being left alone in the impressive solitude of the wilds, she would have been glad of the reassuring grasp of a human being. But an obscure feeling, springing, perhaps, from primitive instincts, made her shrink from close contact with this particular man. "No," she answered coldly; "the rock is loose. Besides, the ledge is narrow, and if I came down heavily, we might both fall over."