And now the suspense of the ladies became terrible.  This was the critical moment.  Already his eyes could look down upon the mystery that lay beneath that precipice.  And what lay revealed there?  Did his eyes encounter a spectacle of horror?  Did they gaze down into the inaccessible depths of some hideous abyss?  Did they see those jagged rocks, those sharp crags, those giant boulders, those roaring billows, which, in their imaginations, had drawn down their lost companion to destruction?  Such conjectures were too terrible.  Their breath failed them, and their hearts for a time almost ceased to beat as they sat there, overcome by such dread thoughts as these.

Suddenly a cry of delight escaped Ethel.  She was kneeling down beside Lady Dalrymple and Mrs. Willoughby, with her eyes staring from her pallid face, when she saw the stranger turn and look up.  He took off his hat, and waved it two or three times.  Then he beckoned to the drivers.  Then he sat down and prepared to let himself over the precipice.  This incident inspired hope.  It did more.  It gave a moment’s confidence, and the certainty that all was not lost.  They looked at each other, and wept tears of joy.  But soon that momentary hope vanished, and uncertainty returned.  After all, what did the stranger’s gesture mean?  He might have seen her—­but how?  He might reach her, but would she be safe from harm?  Could such a thing be hoped for?  Would she not, rather, be all marred and mutilated?  Dared they hope for any thing better?  They dared not.  And now they sat once more, as sad as before, and their short-lived gleam of hope faded away.

They saw the stranger go over the precipice.

Then he disappeared.

The rope was let out for a little distance, and then stopped.  Then more went out.  Then it stopped again.

The rope now lay quite loose.  There was no tension.

What was the meaning of this?  Was he clinging to the side of the precipice?  Impossible.  It looked rather as though he had reached some place where he was free to move, and had no further need of descent.  And it seemed as though the precipice might not be so deep or so fearful as they had supposed.

In a short time their eyes were greeted by the appearance of the stranger above the precipice.  He waved his hat again.  Then he made some gestures, and detached the rope from his person.  The drivers understood him as if this had been preconcerted.  Two of them instantly unharnessed the horse from one of the sleds, while the others pulled up the rope which the stranger had cast off.  Then the latter disappeared once more behind the precipice.  The ladies watched now in deep suspense; inclining to hope, yet dreading the worst.  They saw the drivers fasten the rope to the sled, and let it down the slope.  It was light, and the runners were wide.  It did not sink much, but slid down quite rapidly.  Once or twice it stuck, but by jerking it back it was detached, and went on as before.  At last it reached the precipice at a point not more than a hundred feet from where the stranger had last appeared.