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 I came as near to the edge as I could, and before I knew it, down went the stones under my feet, and down went I, followed by more stones. In falling my teeth cut my lip, and made it bleed.

I lay partially stunned, but certain I was not badly hurt; for all my limbs had answered to the call of my little brain. Then I heard the pit-pat of running feet, and waited to see what would happen.

A young woman came and bent over me.

"Yavroum, are you hurt?" she asked.

"No" I answered.

"But you are bleeding!" she exclaimed in a horrified tone.

She was joined by another woman, somewhat older, who was out of breath from running.

"Is she dead?" she cried.

"It will take more than this to kill me," I declared, and moved to get up.

"No! no! Be still. We will carry you to our mistress," they commanded.

Willingly I obeyed. One took hold of my shoulders, and the other of my feet, and they carried me to a small summer-house, in a grove of cypresses. A tall slender woman dressed in the green of the grass half rose from a couch.

"Is she hurt, Leila?" she asked, and it was as if I were a little bird fallen from its nest, so remote and impersonal was the interest manifested in her voice. If at the time I