to himself, Lorimer at once started off after
them,--but the ascent was difficult; they were some distance ahead, and
though he shouted vociferously, the roar of the cascade rendered his
voice inaudible. Gaining on them, however, by slow degrees, he was
startled when all at once they disappeared at the summit--and,
breathless with his rapid climb, he paused, bewildered. By-and-by he saw
Sigurd creeping cautiously out along the rocky shelf that overhung the
tumbling torrent--his gaze grew riveted with a sort of deadly
fascination on the spot.

"Good God!" he muttered under his breath. "Surely Phil will not follow
him _there_!"

He watched with strained eyes,--and a smothered cry escaped him as
Errington's tall figure, erect and bold, appeared on that narrow and
dangerous platform! He never knew how he clambered up the rest of the
slippery ascent. A double energy seemed given to his active limbs. He
never paused again for one second till he also stood on the platform,
without being heard or perceived by either Sigurd or Philip. Their backs
were turned to him, and he feared to move or speak, lest a sudden
surprised movement on their parts should have the fatal result of
precipitating one or both into the fall. He remained, therefore, behind
them, silent and motionless,--looking, as they looked, at the terrific
scene below. From that point, Njedegorze was as a huge boiling caldron,
from which arose twisted wreaths and coiling lengths of white vapor,
faintly colored with gold and silvery blue. Dispersing in air, these
mists took all manner of fantastic forms,--ghostly arms seemed to wave
and beckon, ghostly hands to unite in prayer,--and fluttering creatures
in gossamer draperies of green and crimson, appeared to rise and float,
and retire and shrink, to nothingness again in the rainbow drift and
sweep of whirling foam. Errington gazed unconcernedly down on the
seething abyss. He pushed back his cap from his brow, and let the fresh
wind play among his dark, clustering curls. His nerves were steady, and
he surveyed the giddily twisting wheels of shining water, without any
corresponding giddiness in his own brain. He had that sincere delight in
a sublime natural spectacle, which is the heritage of all who possess a
poetic and artistic temperament; and though he stood on a frail ledge of
rock, from which one false or unwary step might send him to certain
destruction, he had not the slightest sense of possible danger in his
po