A huge rock, falling from above,
boomed past me, struck the path, and bounded over into the chasm.
For an instant I thought that it was an accident; but a moment later,
looking up, I saw a man's head against the darkening sky, and
another stone struck the very ledge upon which I was stretched,
within a foot of my head. Of course, the meaning of this was obvious.
Moriarty had not been alone. A confederate -- and even that one
glance had told me how dangerous a man that confederate was --
had kept guard while the Professor had attacked me. From a distance,
unseen by me, he had been a witness of his friend's death and of my
escape. He had waited, and then, making his way round to the top of
the cliff, he had endeavoured to succeed where his comrade had failed.
"I did not take long to think about it, Watson. Again I saw
that grim face look over the cliff, and I knew that it was the
precursor of another stone. I scrambled down on to the path.
I don't think I could have done it in cold blood. It was a
hundred times more difficult than getting up. But I had no time
to think of the danger, for another stone sang past me as I hung
by my hands from the edge of the ledge.
Pages:
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36