the ghastly spectacle she had just witnessed. She saw the rock behind
which she had knelt, and again a violent fit of shuddering assailed
her. What did that rock conceal?

Nevertheless she presently took courage to rise, looking about her
furtively, half afraid that Nick might pop up at any moment to detain
her. For she felt that she could not stay longer in that place,
whatever he might say or do. The one idea that possessed her was to
get away from him, to escape from his horrible presence, whither she
neither knew nor cared. If he appeared to stop her then, she thought
that she would go raving mad.

But she saw nothing of him as she stood there, and with deep relief
she began to creep away. Half a dozen yards she covered, and then
stood suddenly still with her heart in her throat. There, immediately
in front of her, flung prone upon the ground with his face on his
arms, was Nick. He did not move at her coming, did not seem to hear.
And the thought came to her to avoid him by a circuit, and yet escape.
But something--a queer, indefinable something--made her pause. Why was
he lying there? Had he been hurt in that awful struggle? Was he--was
he unconscious? Was he--dead?

She fought back the impulse to fly, not for its unworthiness, but
because she felt that she must know.

Trembling, she moved a little nearer to the prostrate, motionless
figure.

"Nick!" she whispered under her breath.