But 'twas no use, and down I sank with a groan. Then Elzevir caught me
up, holding me in his arms, with my head looking over his back, and made
off for the Zigzag. And as we slunk along, close to the cliff-side, I
saw, between the brambles, Maskew lying with his face turned up to the
morning sky. And there was the little red hole in the middle of his
forehead, and a thread of blood that welled up from it and trickled off
on to the sward.
It was a sight to stagger any man, and would have made me swoon perhaps,
but that there was no time, for we were at the end of the under-cliff,
and Elzevir set me down for a minute, before he buckled to his task. And
'twas a task that might cow the bravest, and when I looked upon the
Zigzag, it seemed better to stay where we were and fall into the hands
of the Posse than set foot on that awful way, and fall upon the rocks
below. For the Zigzag started off as a fair enough chalk path, but in a
few paces narrowed down till it was but a whiter thread against the
grey-white cliff-face, and afterwards turned sharply back, crossing a
hundred feet direct above our heads. And then I smelt an evil stench,
and looking about, saw the blown-out carcass of a rotting sheep lie
close at hand.
'Faugh,' said Elzevir, 'tis a poor beast has lost his foothold.'
It was an ill omen enough, and I said as much, beseeching him to make his
own way up the Zigzag and leave me where I was, for that they might have
mercy on a boy.
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