Part 8 (2/2)

”No go, for me,” said Myra, earnestly, ”nor for you, weighted by me. We should never get round that eddying whirlpool. It would merely mean that we should both be drowned. But you can easily do it alone. Oh, go at once! Go quickly! And--don't look back. I shall be all right. I shall just sit down against the cliff, and wait. I have always been fond of the sea.”

Jim Airth looked at her again. And, this time, open admiration shone in his keen eyes.

”Ah, brave!” he said. ”A mother of soldiers! Such women make of us a fighting race.”

Myra laid her hand on his sleeve. ”My friend,” she said, ”it was never given me to be a mother. But I am a soldier's daughter, and a soldier's widow; and--I am not afraid to die. Oh, I do beg of you--give me one handclasp and go!”

Jim Airth took the hand held out, but he kept it firmly in his own.

”You shall not die,” he said, between his teeth. ”Do you suppose I would leave any woman to die alone? And _you_--you, of all women!--By heaven,”

he repeated, doggedly; ”you shall not die. Do you think I could go; and leave--” he broke off abruptly.

Myra smiled. His hand was very strong, and her heart felt strangely restful. And had he not said: ”_You_, of all women?” But, even in what seemed likely to be her last moments, Lady Ingleby's unfailing instinct was to be tactful.

”I am sure you would leave no woman in danger,” she said; ”and some, alas! might have been easier to save than I. Plump little Miss Susie would have floated.”

Jim Airth's big laugh rang out. ”And Miss Murgatroyd could have sailed away in her cameo,” he said.

Then, as if that laugh had broken the spell which held him inactive: ”Come,” he cried, and drew her to the foot of the cliff; ”we have not a moment to lose! Look! Do you see the way I came down? See that long slide in the sand? I tobogganed down there on my back. Pretty steep, and nothing to hold to, I admit; but not so very far up, after all. And, where my slide begins, is a blessed ledge four foot by six.” He pulled out a huge clasp-knife, opened the largest blade, and commenced hacking steps in the face of the cliff. ”We must climb,” said Jim Airth.

”I have never climbed,” whispered Myra's voice behind him.

”You must climb to-day,” said Jim Airth.

”I could never even climb trees,” whispered Myra.

”You must climb a cliff to-night. It is our only chance.”

He hacked on, rapidly.

Suddenly he paused. ”Show me your reach,” he said. ”Mine would not do.

Put your left hand there; so. Now stretch up with your right; as high as you can, easily.... Ah! three foot six, or thereabouts. Now your left foot close to the bottom. Step up with your right, as high as you can comfortably.... Two foot, nine. Good! One step, more or less, might make all the difference, by-and-by. Now listen, while I work. What a G.o.d-send for us that there happens to be, just here, this stratum of soft sand. We should have been done for, had the cliff been serpentine marble. You must choose between two plans. I could sc.r.a.pe you a step, wider than the rest--almost a ledge--just out of reach of the water, leaving you there, while I go on up, and finish. Then I could return for you. You could climb in front, I helping from below. You would feel safer. Or--you must follow me up now, step by step, as I cut them.”

”I could not wait on a ledge alone,” said Myra. ”I will follow you, step by step.”

”Good,” said Jim Airth; ”it will save time. I am afraid you must take off your shoes and stockings. Nothing will do for this work, but naked feet.

We shall need to stick our toes into the sand, and make them cling on like fingers.”

He pulled off his own boots and stockings; then drew the belt from his Norfolk jacket, and fastened it firmly round his left ankle in such a way that a long end would hang down behind him as he mounted.

”See that?” he said. ”When you are in the niches below me, it will hang close to your hands. If you are slipping, and feel you _must_ clutch at something, catch hold of that. Only, if possible, shout first, and I will stick on like a limpet, and try to withstand the strain. But don't do it, unless really necessary.”

He picked up Myra's shoes and stockings, and put them into his big pockets.

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