He waited yet a second or two,then laid hold.
The incline of this upper portion of the precipice,to the length only of a few feet,useless to a climber empty-handed,was invaluable now.Not more than half his weight depended entirely on the linen rope.Half a dozen extensions of the arms,alternating with half a dozen seizures of the rope with his feet,brought him up to the level of the soil.
He was saved,and by Elfride.
He extended his cramped limbs like an awakened sleeper,and sprang over the bank.
At sight of him she leapt to her feet with almost a shriek of joy.
Knights eyes met hers,and with supreme eloquence the glance of each told a long-concealed tale of emotion in that short half-moment.Moved by an impulse neither could resist,they ran together and into each others arms.
At the moment of embracing,Elfrides eyes involuntarily flashed towards the Puffin steamboat.It had doubled the point,and was no longer to be seen.
An overwhelming rush of exultation at having delivered the man she revered from one of the most terrible forms of death,shook the gentle girl to the centre of her soul.It merged in a defiance of duty to Stephen,and a total recklessness as to plighted faith.
Every nerve of her will was now in entire subjection to her feeling--volition as a guiding power had forsaken her.To remain passive,as she remained now,encircled by his arms,was a sufficiently complete result--a glorious crown to all the years of her life.Perhaps he was only grateful,and did not love her.No matter:it was infinitely more to be even the slave of the greater than the queen of the less.Some such sensation as this,though it was not recognized as a finished thought,raced along the impressionable soul of Elfride.
Regarding their attitude,it was impossible for two persons to go nearer to a kiss than went Knight and Elfride during those minutes of impulsive embrace in the pelting rain.Yet they did not kiss.
Knights peculiarity of nature was such that it would not allow him to take advantage of the unguarded and passionate avowal she had tacitly made.
Elfride recovered herself,and gently struggled to be free.
He reluctantly relinquished her,and then surveyed her from crown to toe.She seemed as small as an infant.He perceived whence she had obtained the rope.
Elfride,my Elfride!he exclaimed in gratified amazement.
I must leave you now,she said,her face doubling its red,with an expression between gladness and shame You follow me,but at some distance.
The rain and wind pierce you through;the chill will kill you.
God bless you for such devotion!Take my coat and put it on.
No;I shall get warm running.
Elfride had absolutely nothing between her and the weather but her exterior robe or costume.The door had been made upon a womans wit,and it had found its way out.Behind the bank,whilst Knight reclined upon the dizzy slope waiting for death,she had taken off her whole clothing,and replaced only her outer bodice and skirt.
Every thread of the remainder lay upon the ground in the form of a woollen and cotton rope.
I am used to being wet through,she added.I have been drenched on Pansy dozens of times.Good-bye till we meet,clothed and in our right minds,by the fireside at home!
She then ran off from him through the pelting rain like a hare;or more like a pheasant when,scampering away with a lowered tail,it has a mind to fly,but does not.Elfride was soon out of sight.
Knight felt uncomfortably wet and chilled,but glowing with fervour nevertheless.He fully appreciated Elfrides girlish delicacy in refusing his escort in the meagre habiliments she wore,yet felt that necessary abstraction of herself for a short half-hour as a most grievous loss to him.
He gathered up her knotted and twisted plumage of linen,lace,and embroidery work,and laid it across his arm.He noticed on the ground an envelope,limp and wet.In endeavouring to restore this to its proper shape,he loosened from the envelope a piece of paper it had contained,which was seized by the wind in falling from Knights hand.It was blown to the right,blown to the left--it floated to the edge of the cliff and over the sea,where it was hurled aloft.It twirled in the air,and then flew back over his head.
Knight followed the paper,and secured it.Having done so,he looked to discover if it had been worth securing.
The troublesome sheet was a bankers receipt for two hundred pounds,placed to the credit of Miss Swancourt,which the impractical girl had totally forgotten she carried with her.
Knight folded it as carefully as its moist condition would allow,put it in his pocket,and followed Elfride.
