The Mistress of Shenstone Part 9

At that moment an advance wave rushed up the sand and caught their bare feet.

"Oh, Jim Airth," cried Myra, "go without me! I have not a steady head. I cannot climb."

He put his hands upon her shoulders, and looked full into her eyes.

"You _can_ climb," he said. "You _must_ climb. You _shall_ climb. We must climb--or drown. And, remember: if you fall, I fall too. You will not be saving me, by letting yourself go."

She looked up into his eyes, despairingly. They blazed into hers from beneath his bent brows. She felt the tremendous mastery of his will. Her own gave one final struggle.

"I have nothing to live for, Jim Airth," she said. "I am alone in the world."

"So am I," he cried. "I have been worse than alone, for a half score of years. But there is _life_ to live for. Would you throw away the highest of all gifts? I want to live--Good G.o.d! I _must_ live; and so must you.

We live or die together."

He loosed her shoulders and took her by the wrists. He lifted her trembling hands, and held them against his breast.

For a moment they stood so, in absolute silence.

Then Myra felt herself completely dominated. All fear slipped from her; but the a.s.surance which took its place was his courage, not hers; and she knew it. Lifting her head, she smiled at him, with white lips.

"I shall not fall," she said.

Another wave swept round their ankles, and remained there.

"Good," said Jim Airth, and loosed her wrists. "We shall owe our lives to each other. Next time I look into your face, please G.o.d, we shall be in safety. Come!"

He sprang up the face of the cliff, standing in the highest niches he had made.

"Now follow me, carefully," he said; "slowly, and carefully. We are not in a position to hurry. Always keep each hand and each foot firmly in a niche. Are you there? Good!... Now don't look either up or down, but keep your eyes on my heels. Directly I move, come on into the empty places.

See?... Now then. Can you manage?... Good! On we go! After all it won't take long.... I say, what fun if the Miss Murgatroyds peeped over the cliff! Amelia would be so shocked at our bare feet. Eliza would cry: 'Oh my dear love!' And Susie would promptly fall upon us! Hullo! Steady down there! Don't laugh too much.... Fine knife, this. I bought it in Mexico.

And if the big blade gives out, there are two more; also a saw, and a cork-screw.... Mind the falling sand does not get into your eyes.... Tell me if the niches are not deep enough, and remember there is no hurry, we are not aiming to catch any particular train! Steady down there! Don't laugh.... Up we go! Oh, good! This is a third of the way. Don't look either up or down. Watch my heels--I wish they were more worth looking at--and remember the belt is quite handy, and I am as firm as a rock up here. You and all the Miss Murgatroyds might hang on to it together.

Steady down there!... All right; I won't mention them.... By the way, the water must be fairly deep below us now. If you fell, you would merely get a ducking. I should slide down and pull you out, and we would start afresh.... Good Lord!... Oh, never mind! Nothing. Only, my knife slipped, but I caught it again.... We must be half way, by now. How lucky we have my glissading marks to guide us. I can't see the ledge from here. Let's sing 'Nancy Lee.' I suppose you know it. I can always work better to a good rollicking tune."

Then, as he drove his blade into the cliff, Jim Airth's gay voice rang out:

"Of all the wives as e'er you know, Yeo ho! lads! ho!

Yeo ho! Yeo ho!

There's none like Nancy Lee, I trow, Yeo ho! lads! ho!

Yeo ho!

See there she stands

--Blow! I've struck a rock! Not a big one though. Remember this step will be slightly more to your right

--and waves her hands, Upon the quay, And ev'ry day when I'm away, She'll watch for me; And whisper low, when tempests blow--

Oh, hang these unexpected stones! That's finished my big blade!

--For Jack at sea, Yeo ho! lads, ho! Yeo ho!

Now the chorus.

The sailor's wife the sailor's star shall be,--

Come on! You sing too!"

"Yeo ho! we go, Across the sea!"

came Lady Ingleby's voice from below, rather faint and quavering.

"That's right!" shouted Jim Airth. "Keep it up! I can see the ledge now, just above us.

The bo's'n pipes the watch below, Yeo ho! lads! ho!

Yeo ho! Yeo ho!

Then here's a health afore we go, Yeo ho! lads! ho!

Yeo ho!

A long, long life to my sweet wife, And mates at sea

--Keep it up down there! I have one hand on the ledge--

And keep our bones from Davy Jones Where'er we be!"

"And--keep our bones--from-- Davy Jones--who e'er he be,"

quavered Lady Ingleby, making one final effort to move up into the vacant niches, though conscious that her fingers and toes were so numb that she could not feel them grip the sand.

Then Jim Airth's whole body vanished suddenly from above her, as he drew himself on to the ledge.

"_Yeo ho! we go_!" Came his gay voice from above.

_"Yeo ho! Yeo ho!"_

sang Lady Ingleby, in a faint whisper.

She could not move on into the empty niches. She could only remain where she was, clinging to the face of the cliff.

She suddenly thought of a fly on a wall; and remembered a particular fly, years ago, on her nursery wall. She had followed its ascent with a small interested finger, and her nurse had come by with a duster, and saying: "Nasty thing!" had ruthlessly flicked it off. The fly had fallen--fallen dead, on the nursery carpet.... Lady Ingleby felt she too was falling.

She gave one agonised glance upward to the towering cliff, with the line of sky above it. Then everything swayed and rocked. "A mother of soldiers," her brain insisted, "must fall without screaming." Then--A long arm shot down from above; a strong hand gripped her firmly.

"One step more," said Jim Airth's voice, close to her ear, "and I can lift you."

She made the effort, and he drew her on to the ledge beside him.

"Thank you very much," said Lady Ingleby. "And who was Davy Jones?"

Jim Airth's face was streaming with perspiration. His mouth was full of sand. His heart was beating in his throat. But he loved to play the game, and he loved to see another do it. So he laughed as he put his arm around her, holding her tightly so that she should not realise how much she was trembling.

"Davy Jones," he said, "is a gentleman who has a locker at the bottom of the sea, into which all drown'd things go. I am afraid your pretty parasol has gone there, and my boots and stockings. But we may well spare him those.... Oh, I say!.... Yes, do have a good cry. Don't mind me. And don't you think between us we could remember some sort of a prayer? For if ever two people faced death together, we have faced it; and, by G.o.d's mercy, here we are--alive."