Fiction > Book editions > London, 1886 - Kidnapped

THE   FLIGHT  IN  THE   HEATHER.                   191
shook me; I saw he was speaking, but the roaring of
the falls and the trouble of my mind prevented me from
hearing; only I saw his face was red with anger, and
that he stamped upon the rock. The same look showed
me the water raging by, and the mist hanging in the
air; and with that, I covered my eyes again and
shuddered.
The next minute Alan had set the brandy bottle to
my lips, and forced me to drink about a gill, which sent
the blood into my head again. Then, putting his hands
to his mouth and his mouth to my ear, he shouted
"Hang or drown!" and turning his back upon me,
leaped over the farther branch of the stream, and landed
safe.
I was now alone upon the rock, which gave me the
more room; the brandy was singing in my ears; I had
this good example fresh before me, and just wit enough
to see that if I did not leap at once, I should never leap
at all. I bent low on my knees and flung myself forth,
with that kind of anger of despair that has sometimes
stood me in stead of courage. Sure enough, it was but
my hands that reached the full length; these slipped,
caught again, slipped again; and I was sliddering back
into the lynn, when Alan seized me, first by the hair,
then by the collar, and with a great strain dragged me
into safety.
Never a word he said, but set off running again for
his life, and I must stagger to my feet and run after
him. I had been weary before, but now I was sick and