The ledge sloped steeply there, the
edge was vague, already the two seemed to be wrestling in mid
air; and the mute was desperate.
That moment of hesitation was fatal. Clon's long arms were round
the other's arms, crushing them into his ribs; Clon's skull-like
face grinned hate into the other's eyes; his bony limbs curled
round him like the folds of a snake. Larolle's strength gave
way.
'Damn you all! Why don't you come up?' he cried. And then,
'Ah! Mercy! mercy!' came in one last scream from his lips. As
the Lieutenant, taken aback before, sprang forward to his aid,
the two toppled over the edge, and in a second hurtled out of
sight.
'MON DIEU!' the Lieutenant cried; the answer was a dull splash
in the depths below. He flung up his arms. 'Water!' he said.
'Quick, men, get down. We may save him yet.'
But there was no path, and night was come, and the men's nerves
were shaken. The lanthorns had to be lit, and the way to be
retraced; by the time we reached the dark pool which lay below,
the last bubbles were gone from the surface, the last ripples had
beaten themselves out against the banks.
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