'Let's follow her now,' I said.
'No, no,' she whispered, 'not yet, 'less you want to see her tumble
down the cliff.' After a few minutes Sinfi and I went up the main
pathway. Winnie seemed to have slackened her pace when she was out of
sight, for we saw her just turning away on the right at the point
indicated by Sinfi. 'Give her time to get along that path,' said she,
'and then she'll be all right.'
In a state of agonised suspense I stood there waiting. At last I
said:
'I must go after her. We shall lose her--I know we shall lose her.'
Sinfi demurred a moment, then acceded to my wish, and we went up the
main pathway and peered round the corner of the jutting rock where
Winifred had last been visible. There, along a ragged shelf
bordering a yawning chasm--a shelf that seemed to me scarce wide
enough for a human foot--Winifred was running and balancing herself
as surely as a bird over the abyss.
'Mind she doesn't turn round sharp and see you,' said the Gypsy. 'If
she does she'll lose her head and over she'll fall!'
I crouched and gazed at Winifred as she glided along towards a vast
mountain of vapour that was rolling over the chasm close to her. She
stood and looked into the floating mass for a moment, and then passed
into it and was lost from view.