ment, the least displacement of the balance, and both would be precipitated below.
"Judith!" said he, hoarsely, turning his head toward her ear. "Judith!"
There was no reply.
"Judith! For Heaven's sake—if you hear me—do not lift a finger. Do not move a muscle."
The same heavy weight on him without motion.
"Judith! For life—or death!"
Then suddenly from off the ocean flashed a tiny spark—far, far away.
It was a signal from the Black Prince.
He saw it, fixed his eyes steadily on it, and began to move sideways, facing the sea, his back to the rock, reaching forward with his left arm, holding Judith in the right.
"For life!"
He took one step sideways, holding with the disengaged hand to the rock. The bone of that arm was but just knit. Not only so, but that of the collar was also recently sealed up after fracture. Yet the salvation of two lives hung on these two infirm joints. The arm was stiff; the muscles had not recovered flexibility, nor the sinews their strength.
"For death!"
A second sidelong step, and the projected foot slid in greasy marl. He dug his heel into the wet and yielding soil, he stamped in it; then, throwing all his weight on the left heel, aided by the left arm, he drew himself along and planted the right beside the left.
He sucked the air in between his teeth with a hiss. The soft soil was sinking—it would break away. The light from the Black Prince seemed to rise. With a wrench he planted his left foot on rock and drew up the right to it.
"Judith! For life!"
That star on the the black sea—what did it mean? He knew. His mind was clear, and though in intense concentration of all his powers on the effort to pass this strip of perilous path, he could reason of other things, and knew why the Black Prince had exposed her light. The lantern that he had borne, and left on the shelf, had been seen by her, and she supposed it to be a signal from the terrace over the cave.
