than accelerated their
progress.

"The pass has too many ins and outs for this," he thought, and he
unchained the horses. Then they went up the ravine with the loud ghyll
boiling into foam at one side of them.

VII. "I cannot go farther, Rotha. I must sit down. My foot is swelling. The
bandage is bursting it."

"Try, my girl; only try a little longer: only hold out five minutes
more; only five short minutes, and we may be there."

"It's of no use trying," said Liza with a whimper; "I've tried and
tried; I must sit down or I shall faint." The girl dropped down on to
the grass and began to untie a linen bandage that was about her ankle.

"O dear! O dear! There they are, more than half-way up the pass.
They'll be at the top in ten minutes! And there's Ralph; yes, I can
see him and the dog. What shall we do? What _can_ we do?"

"Go and leave me and come back--no, no, not that either; don't leave
me in this place," said Liza, crying piteously and moaning with the
pain of a sprained foot.

"Impossible," said Rotha. "I might never find you again on this
pathless fell."

"Oh, that unlucky stone!" whimpered Liza, "I'm bewitched, surely. It's
that Mother Garth--"

"Ah, he sees us," said Rotha. She was standing on a piece of rock and
waving a scarf in the wind. "Yes, he sees us and answers. But what
will he understand by that? O dear! O dear! Would that I could make
Willy see, or Robbie--perhaps _they_ would know. Where can father be?
O where?"

A terrible sense of powerlessness came upon Rotha as she stood beside
her prostrate companion within sight of the goal she had labored to
gain, and the strong-hearted girl burst into a flood of tears.

VIII. Yes, from the head of the pass Ralph Ray saw the scarf that was waved
by Rotha, but he was too far away to recognize the girls.

"Two women, and one of them lying," he thought; "there has been an
accident."

Where he stood the leaden sky had broken into a drizzling rain, which
was being driven before the wind in clouds like mist. It was soaking
the soft turf, and lying heavy on the thick moss that coated every
sheltered stone.

"Slipt a foot, no doubt," thought Ralph. "I must ride over to them
when the horses come up and have crossed the pass; I cannot go
before."

The funeral train was now in sight. In a few minutes more it would be
at his side. Yes, there was Robbie Anderson leading the mare. He had
not chained the young horse, but that could be done at this