“Be brave,” he said cheerfully.  “You’ll be on your way back to the shore before many hours have passed by.  There is no—­no danger now.”

I do not know if the two girls understood the meaning of his words, but they asked no questions.  Somehow I think that they knew what had happened.  Those two terrible cries must have reached their ears as they waited at the foot of the chute that led to the wizards’ seat, but if they had any doubts concerning their origin, they refrained from seeking information.  But the Professor knew.  A melancholy that had tied his tongue all through the long day in the Black Kindergarten left him as he came to the sunlight, and he became light-hearted and merry.  He felt that he had been relieved of his load of nightmares, and the dangers of the climb to the rocky shelf above our heads did not trouble him in the least.

It was Holman who performed the heroic work on the late afternoon of that eventful day.  With the rope tied around his waist, he pushed himself out as he had done twice before during the preceding hour, then, gripping the edge of the shelf, dragged himself forward.  For a moment, as he swung over the depths, it looked as if he would be unable to drag himself up, and we clung on to the rope and watched him with frightened eyes.  But youth and courage won the day.  Slowly, inch by inch, he lifted himself, the lips of the two girls moving in dumb prayer; then we lost sight of him as he drew his legs up on to the ledge, and we knew that we were safe!

The youngster secured the rope to a projection on the shelf above, and the Professor, nervous but game, was the next to make the perilous journey.  It was blood-curdling to watch the old man swaying over the depths while Holman, lying flat upon his stomach, gripped him beneath the arms and dragged the poor old scientist to safety.

Barbara went next, and when the rope was lowered once more I secured it around Edith’s waist.  I held her in my arms as I pushed her body forward to Holman’s strong hands that waited just below the ledge, and for one brief instant her lips came close to mine, and with a mad, wild love that had been born in danger, where there was no time for words, I stooped and kissed her.  And even in that moment of extreme peril a faint smile swept over her face as she looked up into mine, and I knew that she understood.

It was nearly sunset when we moved away from the top of the Vermilion Pit, but we had not gone ten paces when we stopped.  A yell came out of the place, then another and another, and Holman and I rushed back to the edge.  Down beneath us, on the slippery Ledge of Death, two natives were locked in a death grip, and a single glance told us that they were Maru and Soma.  The Raretongan had chased Leith’s brown lieutenant on to the path, and now they were struggling like demons in the mad endeavour to thrust each other into the depths.

“Quick!” cried Holman.  “The rope!”