“Cairnes,” I muttered, almost heedless of what I said in the necessity for haste.  “If we could attain the tree-bridge, we might hold the devils.  See! the way is clear!  What say you to the trial?  Will you bear the priest?”

His grip tightened about the war-club, as he half rose to his feet like a maddened bear.

“Saints of Israel! yes,” he growled, “the Jesuit is a man.”

“Then come!”

With one leap I was upon the floor; almost at the same second he landed beside me.  Twice I struck savagely at some obstructing figure, and in five strides was at the side of Eloise.  One shrill cry of warning from the lips of Naladi echoed through the chamber, and was answered by the yell of the warriors.  I was already clasping Eloise against my breast, and speeding toward the opening.  Not a savage stood between, and now, all hope centred upon the desperate race, I dashed forward down the rocky path, rendered hideous by the lightning.  All the fires of hell seemed swirling about us, writhing serpents of flame leaping from the sky, while fierce crashes of thunder echoed from rock to rock.  I scarcely heard or saw.  Below yawned the abyss, black with night; above stretched solid, overhanging stone, painted by green and yellow flames.  I realized nothing except that ribbon of a path, the need of haste, the white, upturned face in my arms.  God! was ever such a race as that run before?  Did ever men dash headlong over such a path of death?  No one need ask how it was done; how speeding feet clung to the narrow rock.  I know not; I never knew.  Twice I stumbled, sobbing in despair, yet ran on like a madman.  Under the glare of the lightning I leaped downward where I had crept in climbing; protruding splinters of rock tore my clothes, bruised my body; my forehead dripped with perspiration, my breath came panting, yet I ran still, her form crushed against my breast.  I shudder now in the recollection; then I scarcely knew.  Ahead loomed black the tree-bridge; but I recall no shrinking fear, only exultation, as I bore down recklessly upon it.  It must be crossed, upright, swiftly, with no thought of the yawning depth.  If death came we should go down together.

“Eloise, steady me with hand against the cliff,” I panted, and stepped forth boldly upon the trunk.  My moccasoned feet gripped the rough bark firmly, yet I swayed horribly under my burden, as I footed the treacherous way.  Again and again I felt myself swaying wildly, yet some power held us, until, at last, I stood on solid rock, utterly unable to essay another yard.  Panting for breath, my arms yet clasping the motionless figure of Eloise, I glanced backward in apprehension.  I could perceive Cairnes footing the log, the head of the priest showing black and distinct above his broad shoulder; beyond, a medley of dark figures appeared to dance dizzily along the cliff face.  I staggered to my knees.  With a growl of relief the Puritan dropped his burden.