Isn't there another way
up?"
"No. The wall above us slopes out. I've got to cross to the stairway. If
I make it I'm going to get a rope."
"Do you mean you're going back to town for one?"
"Yes."
Her eyes fastened to his in a long, unspoken question. She read the
answer. He was afraid to have her try the trough again. To get back to
town by way of their roundabout ascent would waste time. If he was going
to rescue her before night, he must take the shortest cut, and that was
across the face of the sheer cliff. For the first time she understood
how serious was their plight.
"We can go back together by the trough, can't we?" But even as she
asked, her heart sank at the thought of facing again that dizzy height.
The moment of horror when she had thought herself lost had shaken her
nerve.
"It would be difficult."
The glance of the girl swept again the face of the wall he must cross.
It could not be done without a rope. Her fear-filled eyes came back to
his.
"It's my fault. I made you come," she said in a low voice.
"Nonsense," he answered cheerfully. "There's no harm done. If I can't
reach the stairway I can come back and go down by the trough."
Sheba assented doubtfully.
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