Hugh was thrilled at the bare thought of one of the opposite sex being caught in a trap whereby life itself was imperiled.
He had been ascending all this time.

From a single look, which he cast over his shoulder, he could see the road he had lately come along, trace its course, in fact, until it was lost at a bend half a mile away.
He noted that a runner had just turned that same bend, and was jogging along in a rhythmic, contented fashion, as though satisfied with the progress he was making; although "Just" Smith would have to speed up considerable on the morrow if he wished to be anywhere near the head of the procession when the race neared its close.

Hugh, somehow, fixed the fact of his comrade's presence on his mind.

He even mentally figured just how long it was likely to take the other to reach the spot where he himself had left the road; for, perhaps, that circumstance might loom up large in his calculations.
Then he arrived at the brink of what seemed to be a precipice.

The presence of this told Hugh plainly the nature of the task that awaited him.