As far as she could see, Ruth's feet rested on a narrow ledge of rock, while she clung with her hands to a cliff that jutted out overhead.

"Ruth! Ruth!" Barbara called again, but this time her voice was clear and strong. "It is Bab! Do you understand? Hold on a little longer. I am coming."

Swiftly a prayer came into Barbara's mind: "Lord, show me the way." Yet even while she prayed she acted. "Help, help!" Bab called out.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Barbara Lay Flat on the Rocks.]

She tore off the long woolen shawl which she had wrapped round her when she came out to seek Ruth. With hands that seemed to gain a superhuman strength Bab tore it into three, four strips. She dared not make the strips narrower for fear they would not hold. Then she took off her skirt of light wool and wrenched it into broad bands. How, Barbara never knew. She felt that the power was given her.

Growing out from a rock between Bab and the moaning figure on the cliff below was a small tree, its roots deeply imbedded in the hard soil. Ruth had evidently reached out to grasp this tree as the cliff bridge gave way beneath her feet; but, missing it, her feet had touched a ledge of rock and she had flung out her arms and clasped the stone above her. How much longer would her failing strength serve her?

Bab again lay down and measured the length of her queer rope. She found that by reaching the tree she could tie the rope to it and it would then be long enough to extend to Ruth. Removing her shoes, Barbara slowly, and with infinite caution, crawled down the jagged rocks, clinging with her hands and toes. Finally she arrived at the tree, and fastened her rope securely around it, only to find it dangled just above Ruth's head.

Yet what was the use? If Ruth for an instant let go the rock to which she clung her feet would slip from the ledge, and Bab's poor woolen strings could never hold her.

But Barbara understood this. She was face to face with the great moment of her life, and, though she was only a simple country girl, neither her brains nor her strength failed her.

Did she stop at the tree after the rope was tied? No! Still clinging, sliding, her hands bruised and bleeding, Barbara was making her way to where Ruth hung. Bab had said truly that she could climb. Never had a girl a better opportunity to prove her boast! There were moments when she believed she could not go on. Then the thought of Ruth renewed her courage.

Just above Ruth's head, on the left side of her, was a great boulder with a curved, smooth surface. It was to this rock Bab made her way. She was so close to Ruth now that she could lean over and touch her.

"Courage, dear," she whispered, and she thought she saw Ruth's pale lips smile. She had not fainted; for this, Barbara was grateful.

When Barbara was a little girl her mother had been ashamed of her tomboy ways; but she had given in, with a gentle sigh, when Bab grew and flourished by playing boys' games, by learning various boyish arts; among them was the knack of tying a sailor knot.

Edging closer and closer to Ruth she managed to reach out and catch hold of the rope she had fastened to the tree. With one hand on her own rock, with the other she drew the cord about Ruth, fastening it firmly under her arms. The rope was not strong enough to draw Ruth up to safety, but it would steady her should her hands give way.

Somehow, in some way, Barbara must get further help.

Now that her first duty was over, she began to call loudly: "Help, help!" Her shouts roused Ruth, who joined feebly in the cry. No sound answered them. Only the seagulls swept over them, uttering their hoa.r.s.e call.

Barbara felt her own strength going. She tried to crawl up the slippery rock again, but her power was gone. She, too, felt herself-slipping, slipping! With one wild cry she caught at her rock, and all was still!

CHAPTER XVI-HELP ARRIVES

Mr. Cartwright was dining alone on his j.a.panese veranda, as his wife was with the yachting party, and was not expected to dinner.

Jones, the butler, came in softly, placing the soup in front of his master. As he put down the plate his hand shook. Surely he heard a cry!

At the same moment Mr. Cartwright started up. "Jones, what was that?"

They both stood still. There was no further sound.

"Must 'ave been children playing, sir," suggested Jones, and Mr.

Cartwright continued his dinner.

"Help, help!" The sound came from afar off, loud and shrill. This time there was no mistake.

"Coming!" Mr. Cartwright shouted. "Coming!" As he ran across the lawn, closely followed by Jones, he s.n.a.t.c.hed a heavy coil of rope left by the workmen who had been swinging hammocks and arranging for Mrs.

Cartwright's outdoor bazaar.

"Call again, if you can," Mr. Cartwright yelled. Faintly, a voice seemed to come up out of the earth. "Help, help! Oh, please!"

Mr. Cartwright caught the direction of the voice, and ran along the cliffs. In a moment he espied the fallen bridge and guessed what had happened; then he and Jones saw the two girls in their perilous position.

Leaning over, he called: "Can you hear me?"

Bab answered, "Yes."

"Then keep still," shouted Mr. Cartwright, "and I'll have you up here in a moment."

Quickly he knotted the rope around Jones's waist; then, some yards farther on, he tied it round his own. "Go back," he said to his butler, "and lie down." Jones was large and heavy; Mr. Cartwright was a tall man, thin, but strong.

Slowly he lowered himself to the tree where Bab had tied her poor rope, and flung an improvised la.s.so over to Bab. "Not me," said Barbara, forgetting her grammar. "Ruth first."

"Can she climb with the help of the rope?" asked their rescuer.

Ruth had not spoken, but she opened her eyes, gave a shudder and fainted.

Like a flash Bab had thrown the la.s.so over her shoulders, and Ruth hung swaying in the air! Fortunately her feet were still on the ledge of the rock. Mr. Cartwright caught his rope round the tree, at the same time calling to Jones, "Throw me another coil!" He then clambered down and half carried, half dragged the fainting Ruth to the top of the cliff.

Once above, he dropped his burden, and again flung the la.s.so over the edge of the rocks to Barbara, who, crawling and being pulled by turns, came up in safety. When she had reached the top, and stood by the side of the fainting Ruth, Bab's courage deserted her, and she burst into tears.

"Get the young ladies to the house at once," ordered Mr. Cartwright, far more frightened than he had been while playing rescuer.

How fared the yachting party? They did not have a good day. Hugh was in a bad humor because Ruth had not come; Ralph missed Barbara, and, try as they might to avoid it, the conversation would drift back to the lost emeralds.

"I shall never understand it," said Mrs. Erwin to Aunt Sallie, in subdued tones. "The detectives say they have made a thorough search of my servants' quarters, have watched their movements ever since the night of the theft, and they can find none of them of whom they are even suspicious. They do say"-this time Mrs. Erwin dropped her voice to a whisper, for the woman who was with Mrs. Post at the time of the robbery was approaching them-"they say that the burglar was probably-one of the guests!"

This woman, who had worn a gold-colored brocade, was an American, who had married a Frenchman, but her husband was supposed to have been dead several years. She had come to Newport, this season, with letters of introduction, and was already very popular.

"Do you know," she inquired, "where Miss Le Baron and Mr. Townsend are?

No one has seen them recently."

"Oh," laughed Mrs. Erwin, "we leave those two young people alone. I believe they have an affair of their own. Have you known Mr. Townsend before this meeting?"

"Oh, no," replied the woman, in a curious tone; "at least, I have met him once or twice. I can't say I know him."

"Ladies," Governor Post said, coming up to them, "I believe I will cheat you of part of your sail today. There are ugly clouds gathering, and I think it better to put into harbor. We can go ash.o.r.e, or not, as we feel inclined."

As the yacht neared the sh.o.r.e, Miss Sallie grew restless. It was the first time since the beginning of their trip that she had been separated from any of her girls. As soon as dinner was over she begged Governor Post to put herself, Grace and Mollie ash.o.r.e. Immediately the rest of the party agreed to disembark with her.

Ralph and the two girls followed Aunt Sallie home. For once, she hurried on before them, urged by a kind of foreboding.

She found Mrs. Ewing, white and frightened, walking up and down in front of her gate. Mr. Ewing and the maids had left the house, half an hour before, to search for the lost girls.

Thoughtlessly Mrs. Ewing rushed up to Miss Stuart. "Have Ruth and Barbara joined you?" she asked.

"Why, no," replied the two girls in amazement. Ralph stared in surprise; but Miss Sallie spoke firmly. "Tell me, at once, what has happened." In the midst of real danger Miss Stuart was a different woman, as Mr.