If the
track had been partly carried away, he might begin to climb without any
warning of the danger that lay before him. . . .
Anna trembled and shivered as she thought of the danger. It would be
growing dusk before her father began to climb, and who could say what
might happen?
She hurried on to the place at which she always met her father. When she
had crossed the brook that parted the field with the gap from the field
preceding it, Anna stood still in dismay. The hedge was gone, and so was
a good strip of the field it had bordered.
[Sidenote: A Landslip]
There had already been a landslip.
Anna had learned wisdom by her mischance yesterday, and she went on
slowly and cautiously till she drew near the edge; then she knelt down
on the grass, and, creeping along on her hands and knees, she peered
over the broken, slippery edge. The landslip seemed to have reached
midway down the cliff, but the rain had washed the earth and rubbish to
one side.
So far as Anna could make out, the way up, half-way, was as firm as
ever; then there came a heap of debris from the fall of earth, and then
the bare rock rose to the top, upright and dreadful.
Anna's head turned dizzy as she looked down the precipice, and she
forced herself to crawl backward from the crumbling edge only just in
time, for it seemed to her that some mysterious power was beckoning her
from below.
When she got on her feet she stood and wondered what was to be done.
Pages:
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50