We both
turned and caught a glimpse of Jeannette as she bounded through the
bushes and out to the very centre of the Arch, where she stood
balancing herself and laughing gayly. Her form was outlined against
the sky; the breeze, swayed her skirt; she seemed hovering over the
chasm. I watched her, mute with fear; a word might cause her to lose
her balance; but I could not turn my eyes away, I was fascinated with
the sight. I was not aware that Rodney had left me until he, too,
appeared on the Arch, slowly finding a foothold for himself and
advancing toward the centre. A fragment of the rock broke off under
his foot and fell in the abyss below.
'Go back, Monsieur Rodenai,' cried Jeannette, seeing his danger.
'Will you came back too, Jeannette?'
'Moi? C'est aut'chose,' answered the girl, gayly tossing her
pretty head.
'Then I shall come out and carry you back, wilful child,' said the
surgeon.
A peal of laughter broke from Jeannette as he spoke and then she began
to dance on her point of rock, swinging herself from side to side,
marking the time with a song. I held my breath; her dance seemed
unearthly; it was as though she belonged to the Prince of the Powers
of the Air.
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