Strain as she might to see, Ann could not tell whether he were dead or
merely insensible, and the agony of uncertainty seemed to drain her of all
strength. For a few moments she lay where she was, unable to control the
trembling of her limbs, her aching eyes staring fixedly down at the still,
prone figure on the ledge below. But the paralysing terror passed, and, at
length, though still rather shakily, she dragged herself to her feet. She
must go to him--somehow she must get down to where he lay.

At first she could think of no way of reaching him. Although he himself had
attempted, and very nearly successfully accomplished, the upward climb to
the brow of the ravine, she knew she dared not attempt to make the descent
at that same spot. If there were no way round, she would have to go back
to the hotel in search of help. But that would take an hour or more! And
meanwhile Tony was lying there untended. She couldn't wait! She must get to
him--get to him at once, and know whether he were living or dead. She flung
herself down on the ground once more and cast a despairing glance at the
inaccessible shelf of rock where he lay. Then it appeared to her that,
although narrowing as it went, it ran upwards, forming a kind of rough
track below the overhanging summit which, further along, might debouch on
to the crest of the ravine.

Springing to her feet, she hurried desperately along the top in the
direction which the track seemed to take, and at length, with a gasping
sigh of relief, came to a wide fissure that slanted down to meet it.

She was sure-footed as a deer, her slim, supple body balancing itself
almost instinctively, but even so the traversing of that narrow, rocky
ledge, in parts not more than a foot wide, was a severe test of her
endurance. A single false step meant death, instantaneous and inevitable,