She opened her eyes and saw the bulky, swaying shadow not twenty feet above the garden.

Slowly it drew nearer the grass-covered floor--foot by foot, straining, struggling, gasping in the final supreme effort--and then, with a sudden rush, the black mass collapsed and the taut rope sprung loose, the end switching and leaping violently.
Genevra rushed frantically across the garden, half-fearful, half-joyous.
As she came up, the mass seemed to divide itself into two parts.

One sank limply to the ground, the other stood erect for a second and then dropped beside the prostrate, gasping figure.
Chase had come down the rope with another human being clinging to his body! Genevra fell to her knees beside the man who had accomplished this miracle.

She gave but a passing glance at the other dark figure beside her.

All of her interest was in the writhing, gasping American.