He again examined the slab, and then stood still, considering. "Well," he decided, "there's a crack some way up that should give me a hold, and a bit of a projection you could rest a foot on yonder. Then if you gave me one hand, I could lower you down." He came up, thrusting his fingers into a fissure near the summit and finding a tiny support for his toes. Lowering herself cautiously, she clutched the hand he extended. "Now," he cautioned, "as gently as possible!" Loosing her hold above, she hung for a moment or two, half afraid to let go his hand, while his arm and body grew tense with the strain and she could hear his labored breath. Summoning her courage she relaxed her grasp. In another second she was safe upon the ledge, and, scrambling down, he stood beside her with a set, flushed face, the veins protruding on his forehead. "I'm glad that's over; I was badly scared," he acknowledged. She thrilled at the confession, though she thought there had been no serious risk; his concern for her safety was strangely pleasant and the strenuous grasp of his fingers had stirred her. "Oh," she replied, "I believe I was quite safe after you got hold of me." He glanced at the steep face of broken rock that ran down into the shadow. "If we'd gone over, we might not have brought up for a while," he said. "But what's that resting on yonder jutting stone?" "I'm sorry it's my sketch-book," Millicent answered unguardedly. "It's nearly filled." "Then wait here a little." "You can't get it!" Millicent cried sharply. "You mustn't try!" "It's quite easy." Millicent could not resist the temptation to make a rather dangerous experiment. "And yet you were afraid a minute or two ago!" "Yes," he answered, looking at her steadily. "But that was different." She felt her heart-beats quicken and her face grow hot, but she laid a restraining hand on his arm. "I won't let you go." "You must be reasonable," he urged, moving a pace away. "That book stands for a good deal of high-grade work. If you lose it, you will have wasted all the first part of your journey. Besides, I should feel very mean if I left it lying there." He lowered himself over the edge, and moving from cranny to cranny and stone to stone, went cautiously down, while she watched him with her hands closed tight. What the actual peril was she could not estimate; but it looked appallingly dangerous, particularly when in one place he had to descend from a slightly overhanging stone. He reached the book, however, and came up, and when at length he stood beside her his expression was quite normal and he was only a little breathless. Again she felt a disconcerting thrill which was accompanied by a confused sense of pride. What he had done was in her service, and this time he had shown no sign of fear or strain. "Thank you," she said. "But I'm a little angry--you shouldn't have gone. I should never have forgiven myself if you had got hurt."