He had worked his way, with the girl in tow, to a point about midway up the face of the cliff, following a long diagonal that provided the easiest climbing, when Alan stole back to Judith and reported that he was convinced that the pursuit had turned back—perhaps for want of ammunition. Without delay, then, following the way Barcus had chosen, he and Judith began the ascent.
Two thirds of the climb had been accomplished, and Rose and Barcus had arrived in safety at the top, before the temptation to look down proved irresistible to Alan. Immediately beneath his heels the face of the cliff was deeply hollowed out, leaving a drop of fifty feet to a shelving ledge of shale as steep as a roof, whose eaves—perhaps another fifty feet below—jutted out over another fall of a hundred feet. Alan shuddered and swallowed hard before resuming the ascent.
Another twenty feet, however, brought him to a ledge quite six feet wide, offering a broad and easy path to the summit. He gained this with a prayer of heartfelt relief, and was on the point of rising to his feet when a scream of terror from Rose, watching over the upper edge, warned him in time to enable him to snatch and grasp a knob of rock before Judith's weight suddenly tautened the rope between them and jerked Alan's legs from under him.
His feet and legs kicking the empty air beyond the
