The American Baron | Page 6

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.
And now as they sat there, reduced once more to the uttermost
extremity of suspense, they saw a sight which sent a thrill of rapture
through their aching hearts. They saw the stranger come slowly above
the precipice, and then stop, and stoop, and look back. Then they
saw--oh, Heavens! who was that? Was not that her red hood--and that
figure who thus slowly emerged from behind the edge of the precipice
which had so long concealed her--that figure! Was it possible? Not
dead--not mangled, but living, moving, and, yes--wonder of
wonders--scaling a precipice! Could it be! Oh joy! Oh bliss! Oh
revulsion from despair! The ladies trembled and shivered, and laughed
and sobbed convulsively, and wept in one another's arms by turns.
As far as they could see through the tears that dimmed their eyes,
Minnie could not be much injured. She moved quite lightly over the
snow, as the stranger led her toward the sled; only sinking once or
twice, and then extricating herself even more readily than her
companion. At last she reached the sled, and the stranger, taking off the
blanket that he had worn under the rope, threw it over her shoulders.
Then he signaled to the men above, and they began to pull up the sled.
The stranger climbed up after it through the deep snow, walking behind
it for some distance. At last he made a despairing gesture to the men,
and sank down.
The men looked bewildered, and stopped pulling.

The stranger started up, and waved his hands impatiently, pointing to
Minnie.
The drivers began to pull once more at the sled, and the stranger once
more sank exhausted in the snow.
At this Ethel started up.
"That noble soul!" she cried; "that generous heart! See! he is saving
Minnie, and sitting down to die in the snow!"
She sprang toward the men, and endeavored to make them do
something. By her gestures she tried to get two of the men to pull at the
sled, and the third man to let the fourth man down with a rope to the
stranger. The men refused; but at the offer of her purse, which was well
filled with gold, they consented. Two of them then pulled at the sled,
and number four bound the rope about him, and went down, while
number three held the rope. He went down without difficulty, and
reached the stranger. By this time Minnie had been drawn to the top,
and was clasped in the arms of her friends.
But now the strength and the sense which had been so wonderfully
maintained gave way utterly; and no sooner did she find herself safe
than she fell down unconscious.
They drew her to a sled, and tenderly laid her on the straw, and
lovingly and gently they tried to restore her, and call her back to
consciousness. But for a long time their efforts were of no avail.
She lay there a picture of perfect loveliness, as beautiful as a
dream--like some child-angel. Her hair, frosted with snow dust,
clustered in golden curls over her fair white brow; her little hands were
folded meekly over her breast; her sweet lips were parted, and
disclosed the pearly teeth; the gentle eyes no longer looked forth with
their piteous