CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
ON THE RAZOR.
The brave boy knew well that the fate of the others, as well as his own,hung on his coolness and steadiness, and stopping for one moment to seethat he would have light enough to make sure of his footing all alongthe path, he turned round, shouted a few cheery words to his twofriends, and stepped boldly on the ledge.
He was accustomed to giddy heights, and his head had never turned as helooked down the cliffs at Saint Winifred's, or the valleys at home. Buthis heart began to beat very fast with the painful sense that every stepwhich he accomplished was dangerous, and that the nerve which wouldreadily have borne him through a brief effort would here have to besustained for fully twenty minutes, which would be the least possibletime in which he could make the transit. The loneliness, too, wasfrightful; in three minutes he was out of sight of his friends; and tobe there without a companion, in the very heart of the mighty mountains,traversing this haunted and terrible path, with not an eye to see him ifhe should slip and be dashed to atoms on the unconscious rocks--thisthought almost overmastered him, unmanned him, filled him with a weirdsense of indescribable horror. He battled against it with all hismight, but it came on him like a foul harpy again and again, sickeninghis whole soul, making his forehead glisten with the damp dews ofanticipated death. At last he came to a stunted willow which hadtwisted its dry roots into the thin soil, and, clinging to the stem ofit with both arms, he was forced to stop and close his eyes, and prayingfor God's help, he summoned together all the faculties of his soul, andbuffeted this ghastly intruder away so thoroughly that it did not againreturn. As a man might shoot a vulture, and look at it lying dead athis feet, so with the arrow of a heartfelt supplication Walter slew thehideous imagination that had been flapping its wings over him; nor didhe stir again till he was sure that it had lost its power. And then,opening his eyes, he bore steadily and cautiously on, till all of asudden, in the fast fading sunlight, something glinted white in thevalley beneath his feet. In a moment it flashed upon him that this wasthe unreached skeleton a thousand feet below, the sight of whichimparted a superstitious horror to the Devil's Way, as the peasantscalled the narrow path along the Razor. Nor was this all: for some ragsof the man's dress, torn off by his headlong fall, still fluttered on astump of blackthorn not thirty feet below. And now, again, the poorboy's heart quailed with an uncontrollable emotion of physical andmental fear. For a moment he tottered, every nerve was loosened, hislegs bent under him, and, dropping down on his knees, he clutched theground with both hands. It was just one of those swift spasms ofemotion on which, in moments of peril, the crisis usually depends. HadWalter's will been weak, or his conscience a guilty one, or his strengthfeeble, or his body unstrung by ill-health, he would have succumbed tothe sudden terror, and, fainting first, would the next instant haverolled over the edge to sudden and inevitable death.
All these results were written before him as with fire, as he shut hiseyes and clung with tenacious grasp to the earth. But happily his mindwas strong, his conscience stainless, his powers vigorous, his body inpure health, and in a few moments, which seemed to him an age, he hadrecovered his presence of mind by one of those noble efforts which thewill is ever ready to make for those who train it right. Before heopened his eyes he had braced himself into a thorough strength, and oncemore commending himself to God, he rose firm and cool to continue hisjourney, averting his glance from the spectacle of death which gleamedbelow.
He found that his best plan was to fix his eyes rigidly on the path, andnot suffer them to swerve for a moment to either side. Whenever he didso, the wavering sensation came over him again, but so long as he trodcarefully and never let his eyes wander off the place of his footsteps,he found that he got along securely and even swiftly. He had only onemore difficulty with which to contend. In one place the sort of pathwhich the Razor presented was broken and crumbled away, and hereWalter's heart again sank despairingly within him, as his attention wassuddenly arrested by the additional and unexpected peril. But to turnback was now out of the question, and as it seemed impossible to walkfor these few feet, he again knelt down, and crawled steadily along onhands and knees, about the length of two strides, until the path washard and firm enough for him to proceed as before. The end was nowaccomplished; in five minutes more he sprang on the broad firm side ofBardlyn hill, and shouting aloud to relieve his spirits from theirtumult of joy and thankfulness, he raced down Bardlyn, gained veryquickly the mountain road, and ran at the top of his speed till, just asthe sun was setting, he reached the group of cottages which took theirname from the hill on which they stood.
Knocking at the first cottage, he inquired for some guide or shepherdwho was thoroughly acquainted with all the mountain paths, and wasdirected to the house of a man named Giles, who had been occupied foryears among the neighbouring sheep-walks.
Giles listened to his story with open eyes. "Thee bi'st coom over t'Razor along Devil's Way," said he in amazement; "then thee bi'st justthe plookiest young chap I've seen for many a day."
"We must get back over it, too, to reach them," said Walter.
"O ay; I be'ant afear'd of t' Razor; I've crossed him many a time, andI'll take a bit rope over and help they other chaps. We'll take alantern, too. Don't you be afeared, sir, we'll get 'em all right," hesaid, observing how anxious and excited Walter seemed to be.
"Come, then," said Walter, "quick, quick! I promised to come back tothem at once. You shall be well paid for your trouble."
"Tut, tut," said the man, "the pay's naught. Why, I'd come if it wereonly a dumb sheep in danger, let alone a brace of lads like you."
They set off with a lantern, a rope, and some food, and Giles wasdelighted at the quick and elastic step of the young mountaineer. Thelantern they soon extinguished. It was not needed; for though the sunhad now set, a glorious full moon had begun to pour her broad flood ofsilver radiance over the gloomy hills by the time they had reachedBardlyn rift.
"There ain't no call for _you_ to cross again, sir," said the man; "I'lljust go over by myself, and look after the young gentlemen."
"O, let me come, I must come!" said Walter. "The mist's quite off itnow, so that it's just as easy under this moonlight as when I came; and,besides, if you take a coil of the rope in your hand I'll take hold ofthe other end."
"Well, you're the right sort, and no mistake," said the man. "God blessyou for a brave young heart! And, truth tell, I'll be very glad to haveye with me, for they do say as how poor old Waul's ghost haunts abouthere, and it 'ud be fearsome at night. I know that there's One as keepsthem as has a good conscience, but yet I'll be glad to have ye all thesame."
The moonlight flung on every side the mysterious and gigantic shadows ofrocks and hills, seeming to glimmer with a ghastly hue as it fell andstruggled into the black depths of the untrodden rift; but habit madethe Devil's Way seem nothing to the mountain shepherd, and he protectedWalter (who twined round his wrist one end of the rope) from the dangerof stumbling, as effectually as Walter protected him from all ghostlyfears. When they reached the broken piece, the only difference he madewas to walk with great caution, and plant his feet deeply into theearth, bidding Walter follow in the traces he made, and supporting himfirmly with his hand. They got across in much less time than Walter hadoccupied in his first passage, and as they reached Appenfell they sawthe two boys standing dimly on the verge of the moonlit mist, while allbelow them the rest of Appenfell was still wrapt, as in some greatcerecloth, by the snowy folds of seething cloud.
"Good heavens! but who are those?" said Walter, pointing to two shadowyand gigantic figures which also faced them. "O, _who_ are those?" heasked wildly, and in such alarm that if the shepherd had not seized himfirmly he must have fallen.
"There, there--don't be frighted," said Giles; "those be'ant no ghosts,but they be just our own shadows on the mist. It's a queer thing, butI've seen it often and often on these hills, and some scholards havetold me as how that kind of thing be'ant uncommo
n on mountains."
"What a goose I was to be so horribly frightened," said Walter; "but Ididn't know that there were any spectres of that sort on Appenfell. Allright, Giles; go on."
Till Walter and the shepherd had taken their last step from the Devil'sWay on to the side of Appenfell, the boys stood watching them in intensesilence; but no sooner were they safe, than Power and Kenrick ran up toWalter, poured out their eager thanks, and pressed his hands in all thefervour of affectionate gratitude. They felt that his courage andreadiness had, at the risk of his own life, saved them from such adanger as they had never in their lives experienced before. Alreadythey were suffering with hunger and shuddering with the December air,their limbs felt quite benumbed, their teeth were chatteringlugubriously, and their faces were blue and pinched with cold. Theyeagerly devoured the brown bread and potato-cake which the man hadbrought, and let him and Walter chafe a little life into theirshivering-bodies. By this time fear was sufficiently removed to enablethem to feel some sort of appreciation of the wild beauty of the scene,as the moonlight pierced on their left the flitting scuds of restlessmist, and on their right fell softly over Bardlyn hill, making a weirdcontrast between the tender brightness of the places where it fell, andthe pitchy gloom that hid the depths of the rift, and brooded in thoseundefined hollows over which the precipices leaned.
To return down Appenfell was (the experienced shepherd informed them)quite hopeless. In such a mist as that, which might last for anindefinite time, even _he_ would be totally unable to find his way. Butnow that they were warm and satisfied with food, and confident ofsafety, they even enjoyed the feeling of adventure when Giles tied themtogether for their return across the Devil's Way. First he tied therope round his own waist, then round Power's and Kenrick's, and finally,as there was not enough left to go round Walter's waist, he tied the endround his right arm. Thus fastened, all danger was tenfold diminished,if not wholly removed, and the two unaccustomed boys felt a happyreliance on the nerve and experience of Giles and Walter, who were infront and rear. It was a scene which they never forgot, as the fourwent step by step through the moonlight along the horrible ledge, safeonly in each other's help, and awe-struck at their position, not daringto glance aside or to watch the colossal grandeur of their own shadowsas they were flung here and there against some protruding rock. Powerwas next to Walter, and when they reached the spot beneath which thewhiteness glinted and the rags fluttered in the wind, Walter, in spiteof himself, could not help glancing down, and whispering "Look!" in avoice of awe. Power unhappily did look, and as all the boys at SaintWinifred's were familiar with the story of the shepherd's fate, and hadeven known the man himself, Power at once was seized with the samenervous horror which had agitated Walter--grew dizzy, stumbled, andslipped down, jerking Kenrick to his knees by the sudden strain of therope. Happily the rope checked Power's fall, and Kenrick's scream ofhorror startled Giles, who, without losing his presence of mind,instantly seized Kenrick with an arm that seemed as strong andinflexible as if it had been hammered out of iron, while at the samemoment Walter, conscious of his rashness, clutched hold of Power's handand raised him up. No word was spoken, but after this the boys keptclose to their guides, who were ready to grasp them tight at the firstindication of an uneven footstep, and who almost lifted them bodily overevery more difficult or slippery part. The time seemed very long tothem, but at last they had all reached Bardlyn hill in safety, andplaced the last step they ever meant to place on the narrow and dizzypassage of the Razor's edge.
And stopping there they looked back at the dangers they had passed--atAppenfell piled up to heaven with white clouds; at Bardlyn rift loomingin black abysses beneath them; at the thin broken line of the Devil'sWay. They looked:
"As a man with difficult short breath, Forespent with toiling, 'scaped from sea to shore Turns to the perilous wide waste, and stands At gaze."
They stood silent till Power said, in ejaculations of intense emphasis,"Thank God!"--and then pointing downwards with a shudder, "Oh, Walter!"and then once again, "Thank God!"--which Walter and Kenrick echoed; andthen they passed on without another word. But those two words, souttered, were enough.
The man, who was more than repaid by the sense that he had rendered thema most important aid, and who had been greatly fascinated by their_manly_ bearing, entirely refused to take any money in payment for whathe had done.
"Nay, nay," he said; "we poor folks are proud too, and I won't have noneof your money, young gentlemen. But let me tell you that you've had avery narrow escape of your lives out there, and I don't doubt you'llthank the good God for it with all your hearts this night; and if you'lljust say a prayer for old Giles, too, he'll vally it more than all yourmonies. So now, good-night to you, young gentlemen, for you know yourway now easy enough. And if ever you come this way again, maybe you'llcome in and have a chat for remembrance sake."
"Thank you, Giles, that we will," said the boys.
"And since you won't take any money you'll let me give you this," saidWalter. "You _must_ let me give you this; it's not worth much, butit'll show you that Walter Evson didn't forget the good turn you didus." And he forced on the old shepherd's acceptance a handsome knife,with several strong blades, which he happened to have in his pocket;while Power and Kenrick, after a rapid whispered consultation, promisedto bring him in a few days a first-rate plaid to serve him as a slightreminder of their gratitude for his ready kindness. Then they all shookhands with many thanks, and the three boys, eager to find sympathy intheir perils and deliverance, hastened to Saint Winifred's, which theyreached at eight o'clock, just when their absence was beginning to causethe most serious anxiety.
They arrived at the arched gateway as the boys were pouring out ofevening chapel, and as every one was doubtfully wondering what hadbecome of them, and whether they had encountered any serious mishap.When the Famulus admitted them, the fellows thronged round them incrowds, pouring into their ears a succession of eager questions. Thetale of Walter's daring act flew like wildfire through the school, andif any one still retained against him a particle of ill-feeling, orlooked on his character with suspicion, it was this evening replaced bythe conviction that there was no more noble or gallant boy than Walteramong them, and that if any equalled him in merit it was one of thosewhose intimate friendship for him had on this day been deepened by thegrateful knowledge that to him, in all human probability, they owedtheir preservation from an imminent and overpowering peril. EvenSomers, in honour of whose academic laurel the whole holiday had beengiven, and who that evening returned from Cambridge, was less of a herothan either of the three who had thus climbed the peak of Appenfell andbraved so serious an adventure; far less crowned with schoolboyadmiration than the young boy who had thrice crossed and recrossed theDevil's Way, and who had crossed it first unaided and with fullknowledge of its horrors, while the light of winter evening was dyingaway, and the hills around him reeked like a witch's caldron with wintrymists.
Walter, grateful as he was for each pat on the back and warm pressure ofthe hand, which told him how thoroughly and joyously his doings wereappreciated, was not intoxicated by the enthusiasm of this boyishovation. It was indeed a proud thing to stand among those four hundredschoolfellows, the observed of all observers, greeted on every side byhappy, smiling, admiring faces, with every one pressing forward to givehim a friendly grasp, every one anxious to claim or to form hisacquaintance, and many addressing him with the kindliest greetings whosevery faces he hardly knew; but the deeper and more silent gratitude ofhis chosen friends, and the manly sense of something bravely and rightlydone, was more to him than this. Yet this was something very sweet.When the admiration of boys is fairly kindled it is the brightest, themost genial, the most generously hearty in the world. Few succeed inwinning it; but he who has been a hero to others in manhood only, hashad but a partial taste of the rich triumph experienced by him who hashad the happiness in boyhood of being a hero among boys.
Here let me say how one or two peop
le noticed Walter when first they sawhim that evening.
While numbers of boys were shaking hands with him, whom he hardly saw orrecognised in the crowd by the mingled moonlight and lamplight thatstreamed over the court where they stood, Walter felt one squeeze thathe recognised and valued. Looking among the numerous faces, he saw thatit was Henderson who was greeting him without a word. No nonsense orjoke this time, and Walter noticed that the boy's lips were tremblingwith emotion, and that there was a light as of tears in hislaughter-loving eyes.
"Ah, Henderson!" said Walter, in that tone of real regard and pleasurewhich is the truest sign and pledge of friendship, and which no art cancounterfeit, "I'm so glad to see you again: how did you and Dubbs geton?"
"All right, Walter," said Henderson; "but he's gone to bed with a badheadache. Come in and see him before you go to bed. I know he'd liketo say good-night."
"Well done. Evson--well done indeed," was the remark of Somers, as henoticed Walter for the first time since the scene of the private room.
"Excellent, my gallant little Walter," said Mr Percival, as he passedby. Mr Paton, who was with him, _said_ nothing, but Walter knew allthat he would have expressed when he caught his quiet approving smile,and felt his hand rest for a moment, as with the touch of Christianblessing, on his head.
It is happiness at all times to be loved, and to deserve the love; buthappiest of all to enjoy it after sorrow and sin. But we must escapefrom this ordeal of prosperity, of flattering words and intoxicatingfumes of praise, as soon as we can. Who would not soon be enervated inthat tropical and luxurious atmosphere? If it be dangerous, happily itis not often that he or we shall breathe its heavy sweetness, but farother are the dangers we shall mostly undergo.
"Dr Lane wants you," said the Famulus, just in time to save the tiredboys from their remorseless questioners. They _went_ at once to theheadmaster's house. He received them with a stately yet sincerekindness; questioned them on the occurrences of the day; warned them forthe future against excursions so liable to accident as the winter ascentof Appenfell; and then spoke a few friendly words to each of them. Forboth Kenrick and Power he had a strong personal regard, and for thelatter especially a feeling closely akin to friendship and affection.After they were gone he kept Walter behind, and said, "I am indeed mostsincerely rejoiced, Evson, to meet you again under circumstances sowidely different from those in which I saw you last. I have heard forsome time past how greatly you have improved, and how admirably you arenow doing. I am glad to have the opportunity of assuring you myself howentirely you have succeeded in winning back my approbation and esteem."Walter attended with a glistening eye, and the master shook hands withhim as he bowed and silently withdrew.
"Tea has been ordered for you in Master Power's study," said thefootman, as they left the master's house.