was,
and are running along the side of a steep descent.

"I am sorry you dthink my hands zo weak, for if dthey fail ve bodth go
down."

"Oh, please, please!" I gasp.

"Now ve come to a baranca. I am curious to zee vill you like a
'baranca.'"

The wretch speaks as calmly as if we sat in a Pullman car. Through all
my fright and indignation I wonder what on earth's a "baranca"--and
forget to scream.

"Now, Senorita, if I hold you not zo far out as you like, tell me."

I look down, and under my very eyes the solid ground ends, my
horrified vision drops hundreds of feet to the bottom of a mighty gash
in Cordilleras' flank, and for one sick instant I shut my eyes.

"How like you a baranca?"

Is it the wind jeering after me as I drop down, down, down? With a
supreme effort I turn to see if that face is behind me, and behold!
the Peruvian calmly meets my eyes with actually a smile on his lips.
He is still holding me jauntily over the platform steps, and it was
only my giddy fancy that fell so far.

We have passed the gorge, and, looking back, I see the "narrow-gauge"
track lying across the chasm like a herring-bone over a hole.

"Ve haf more barancas if you like dthem."

"Oh, Guillermo," I say, "please let me go in!"

"Not for my sake! I can hold you here von hour vidth dthese
'gude-for-nodthing' hands."

"Oh, I don't doubt it; you're the strongest man I ever knew, but I
don't like barancas. Please, _please_, Guillermo!"

He draws me back on the platform, and without asking my pardon or
looking the least bit penitent, he opens the door for me to go inside.

Mrs. Steele looks away from her window as we take our former seats.

"How deliciously cool it's grown," she says. "What makes you so
white, Blanche?"

"Vas it not for dthat she ees call Blanca?"

"What is it, child? Are you faint?"

"Yes, a little," I answer, wondering whether I had better tell how
that Peruvian monster has been behaving.

"That's strange! It's quite unlike you to be faint. Baron, will you
mix a little of this brandy with some water? That will make her feel
better."

Again he takes out his traveller's cup of silver. Calling the negro
conductor, he tells him to bring some "agua."

"He's afraid to leave us," I think indignantly; "he doesn't want me to
tell Mrs. Steele."

"Did you notice that great cleft in the mountain we went over?" asks
the latter, fanning me gently.

"Yes, dthat ees call 'baranca.' Senorita seem not to like