Before them, at their very feet, was the
brink of a black ragged chasm hidden by the thick grass. They
sprang back, and fell upon their knees, each hiding her face upon
the other's neck.
'O, my good Lord! He's down there! Down there!' At first this,
and her terrific screams, were all that could be got from Rachael,
by any tears, by any prayers, by any representations, by any means.
It was impossible to hush her; and it was deadly necessary to hold
her, or she would have flung herself down the shaft.
'Rachael, dear Rachael, good Rachael, for the love of Heaven, not
these dreadful cries! Think of Stephen, think of Stephen, think of
Stephen!'
By an earnest repetition of this entreaty, poured out in all the
agony of such a moment, Sissy at last brought her to be silent, and
to look at her with a tearless face of stone.
'Rachael, Stephen may be living. You wouldn't leave him lying
maimed at the bottom of this dreadful place, a moment, if you could
bring help to him?'
'No, no, no!'
'Don't stir from here, for his sake! Let me go and listen.
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