cord dangling down the face of the
brown cliff seemed from above to reach little more than half-way
down it. beyond stretched the rugged rock, wet and shining, with
a green tuft here and there thrusting out from it, but little
sign of ridge or foothold. far below the jagged points of the
boulders bristled up, dark and menacing. norbury tugged thrice
with all his strength upon the cord, and then lowered himself
over the edge, while a hundred anxious faces peered over at him
as he slowly clambered downwards to the end of the rope. twice
he stretched out his foot, and twice he failed to reach the point
at which he aimed, but even as he swung himself for a third
effort a stone from a sling buzzed like a wasp from amid the
rocks and struck him full upon the side of his head. his grasp
relaxed, his feet slipped, and in an instant he was a crushed and
mangled corpse upon the sharp ridges beneath him.
"if i have no better fortune," said alleyne, leading sir nigel
aside. "i pray you, my dear lord, that you will give my humble
service to the lady maude, and say to her that i was ever her
true servant and most unworthy cavalier."
the old knight said no word, but he put a hand on either
shoulder, and kissed his squire, with the tears shining in his
eyes. alleyne sprang to the rope, and sliding swiftly down, soon
found himself at its extremity. from above it seemed as though
rope and cliff were well-nigh touching, but now, when swinging a
hundred feet down, the squire found that he could scarce reach
the face of the rock with his foot, and that it was as smooth as
glass, with no resting-place where a mouse could stand. some
three feet lower, however, his eye lit upon a long jagged crack
which slanted downwards, and this he must reach if he would save
not only his own poor life, but that of the eight-score men
above him. yet it were madness to spring for that narrow slit
with nought but the wet, smooth rock to cling to. he swung for a
moment, full of thought, and even as he hung there another of the
hellish stones sang through his curls, and struck a chip from the
face of the cliff. up he clambered a few feet, drew up the loose
end after him, unslung his belt, held on with knee and with elbow
while he spliced the long, tough leathern belt to the end of the
cord: then lowering himself as far as he could go, he swung
backwards and forwards until his hand reached the crack, when he
left the rope and clung to the face of the cliff. another stone
struck him on the side, and he heard a sound like a breaking
stick, with a keen stabbing pain which shot through his chest.
yet it was no time now to think of pain or ache. there was his
lord and his eight-score comrades, and they must be plucked from
the jaws of death. on he clambered, with his hand shuffling down
the long sloping crack, sometimes bearing all his weight upon his
arms, at others finding some small shelf or tuft on which to rest
his foot. would he never pass over that fifty feet? he dared not
look down and could but grope slowly onwards, his face to the
cliff, his fingers clutching, his feet scraping and feeling for a
support. every vein and crack and mottling of that face of rock
remained forever stamped upon his memory. at last, however, his
foot came upon a broad resting-place and he ventured to cast a
glance downwards. thank god! he had reached the highest of those
fatal pinnacles upon which his comrade had fallen. quickly now he
sprang from rock to rock until his feet were on the ground, and
he had his hand stretched out for the horse's rein, when a
sling-stone struck him on the head, and he dropped senseless upon
the ground.
an evil blow it was for alleyne, but a worse one still for him
who struck it. the spanish slinger, seeing the youth lie slain,
and judging from his dress that he was no common man, rushed
forward to plunder him, knowing well that the bowmen above him
had expended their last shaft. he was still three paces,
however, from his victim's side when john upon the cliff above
plucked up a huge boulder, and, poising it for an instant,
dropped it with fatal aim upon the slinger beneath him. it
struck upon his shoulder, and hurled him, crushed and screaming,
to the ground, while alleyne, recalled to his senses by these
shrill cries in his very ear, staggered on to his feet, and gazed
wildly about him. his eyes fell upon the horses, grazing upon
the scanty pasture, and in an instant all had come back to him--
his mission, his comrades, the need for haste. he was dizzy,
sick, faint, but he must not die, and he must not tarry, for his
life meant many lives that day. in an instant he was in his
saddle and spurring down the valley. loud rang the swift
charger's hoofs over rock and reef, while the fire flew from the
stroke of iron, and the loose stones showered up behind him
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