and the whole terrible ten minutes which it took her to complete the short
distance was poignant with the dread of what she might discover at its end.

Moving very cautiously, her bare hands sliding across the rough face of
the rock as she edged her way forward, she came at last to where the ledge
widened out and the ground above sloped gently upwards. A few steps more
and she could see Tony's young, supine figure. The last three yards were
accomplished at a run, and an instant later she was kneeling beside him,
thrusting swift, urgent hands beneath his shirt to feel whether his heart
still beat. The throb of it came softly against her palms--warm, and
pulsatingly _alive_!

Ann rocked a little on her knees. She felt sick and giddy with reaction
from the almost intolerable strain of the last few minutes. Then she caught
sight of a vivid glint of blue--a single gentian bloom still tightly
clasped in the boy's hand, and quite suddenly she began to cry, the tears
running unchecked down her face. And it was just then that Tony came back
to consciousness--to the vague consciousness of something wet splashing
down on to his face. He stirred and opened his eyes.

"Tony!" Ann's voice was hoarse with relief.

His eyes blinked at her uncertainly.

"Hello!" he said rather feebly. "What's happened?"

"I thought you were killed!" she cried unsteadily. "Oh, Tony, I thought you
were killed!"

He regarded her consideringly.