He held his perilous way.

Cold sweat stood on his brow.

If Foy or a foe of Foy were on the cliff now, how easy to topple down a stone upon him! The absolute stillness was painful.

A thought came to him of Stella Vorhis--her laughing eyes, her misty hair, the little hand that had lingered upon his own.

Such a little, little hand! Before him a narrow slit opened in the wall--such a crevice as the Major had described.
"Foy! Oh, Foy!" he called.