I used to be rather a
nailer at that sort of thing, when I played at soldiering a few years
ago."
"But no one could climb the tower now!" the girl exclaimed.
"I don't know. I almost flatter myself that I could. I've done the Dent
Blanche twice, and a Welsh mountain or two. To be sure, I must be my own
guide now, but I think I can bring it off all right. I've been searching
about for a mirror and reflector, in case I try the experiment; for the
heliographing apparatus was spoilt in the general wreckage of things by
the storm. I've got a reflector off a lamp in the kitchen, but couldn't
find a looking-glass anywhere, and I saw there was only a broken bit in
your room. My one hope was in you."
As he said this, he felt that the words meant a great deal more than he
wished her to understand.
"I hate being afraid of things," said Victoria. "But I am afraid to have
you go up in the tower. It's only a shell, that looks as if it might
blow down in another storm. It could fall with you, even if you got up
safely to the signalling place. And besides, if Cassim's men were near,
they might see you and shoot. Oh, I don't think I could bear to have you
go!"
"You care--a little--what becomes of me?" Stephen had stammered before
he had time to forbid himself the question.
"I care a great deal--what becomes of you."
"Thank you for telling me that," he said, warmly. "I--" but he knew he
must not go on.
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