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He raised his legs once more just once more, and shoved. He gained an inch. Then in a flash the Priest managed to stand up with Sorez still clinging. But only for a moment, when he fell backwards, striking the back of his head sharply upon the logs. The girl screamed in fright.
What has happened?" "I have promised not to tell." "But you must, girl. Why you this man Sorez has no right to exact promises from you. He " "You don't understand, David. It it has to do with my father and with with what I saw." "In that cursed image?" "Yes, the image. But it is not cursed, David." "It is it is if it takes you away."
It was as though he were looking upon the scene of events of a year past. She had gone. He hurried into the next room the room where Sorez, fainting, had fumbled at the safe until he opened it the room where he had first seen the image which had really been the source of all his misfortunes.
Then he stooped and bound the ropes more tightly about the ankles of the prostrate man. Sorez watched him with new interest almost with a new hope. He glanced at the girl and saw her kneeling upon the raft, her white face to the moon. The Priest bent to fasten the rope which already bit into the flesh above the arms. It was for this Sorez had prayed.
I brought her here on the hope that she might find this father who has been a long time gone from home. He was a sea captain and I told her that many captains had been lost here in the mountains and been found again. I told her that I had seen her father in Bogova. That is why she came." "To the lake?" Sorez had but a second in which to decide.
He felt the better for not having the burden of his death, however richly it was deserved, upon his hands. The girl apparently was still in too much of a daze to recognize Sorez. Wilson spoke to him. "Can you walk?" "God," he cried. "Who are you? You speak English!" Wilson repeated his question impatiently. "If you can walk, follow me and I'll take you out of this hole."
In the narration of what had befallen her while in the care of Sorez, Wilson came to have a new conception of the man. With the exception of the fact that Sorez had considered his own interest alone in bringing the girl down here, and that he had lured her on by what he knew to be a deliberate lie, Sorez had been as kind and as thoughtful of her as her own father could have been.
The canoe had gone and the loosely constructed raft was settling as timber after timber freed itself. Sorez, himself again, saw this. Without a word he shoved once more, this time himself alone. He went down and the raft floated. He had kept his word after all; he had given the girl her father. A Lucky Bad Shot
The one-room structure was given up to the women while Flores built near it a leanto for himself and Sorez. This simplified things mightily for the exhausted travelers, and gave them at once the opportunity for much-needed rest. They slept the major part of two days, but Sorez again showed his remarkable recuperative powers by awaking with all his old-time strength of body and mind.
And when the latter closed his eyes for all time, Sorez remembered that the heathen image was still in his possession. He started to return it to the shrine, but the girl threw herself before him. "No. The trust is yours." Well, it would be a pleasant memento of an incident that was anything but pleasant. He brought it down the mountain side and put it beneath his blanket.
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