The earth was rocking, and now she understood more fully her lover's trouble. Her courage slowly began to ebb. She fought against it, but slowly a terror of that dreadful hill crept up in her heart, and she longed to flee anywhere from it--anywhere but down into that caldron of fire below. But the thought was impossible. Death was on every hand beyond that hill, and the hill itself was--quaking.
Now Buck was speaking again.
"We'll have to git som'ere from here," he said.
The Padre answered him-"Where?"
It was an admission of the elder man's weakness. Buck must guide. The girl's eyes remained upon her lover's face; she was awaiting his reply. She understood, had always known it, that all human help for her must come from him.
Her suspense was almost breathless.
"There's shelter by the lake," Buck said, after a long pause. "We can get to leeward of the rock, an'--it's near the head of that path droppin' to the creek. The creek seems better than anywher' else--after this."
His manner was decided, but his words offered poor enough comfort.
The Padre agreed, and, at once, they moved across to Joan. For the moment the earth was still again. Its convulsive shudder had passed. Joan struggled to her feet, but her increasing terror left her clinging to the man she loved. The Padre silently gathered Mercy into his arms, and the journey across the plateau began.
But as they moved away the subterranean forces attacked again. Again came that awful rocking, and shaking, which left them struggling for a foothold. Twice they were driven to their knees, only to stagger on as the convulsions lessened. It was a nightmare of nervous tension. Every step of the journey was fraught with danger, and every moment it seemed as though the hill must fall beneath them to a crumbling wreckage.
With heart-sick apprehension Joan watched the growing form of the great rock, which formed the source of the lake, as it loomed out of the smoke-laden dusk. It was so high, so sheer. What if it fell, wrecked with those dreadful earth quakings? But her terror found no voice, no protest. She would not add to the burden of these men. The rock passed behind them, and her relief was intense as the shadow was swallowed up again in the gloom. Then a further relief came to her as the edge of the plateau was reached, and the Padre set his burden down at the head of the narrow path which suggested a possible escape to the creek below.
She threw herself beside her aunt, and heard Buck speaking again to his friend.