By a natural principle of compensation, the simplest obstacle was to bring us to grief.

"There's many a slip," says the proverb.

Very likely! One was enough for our business.
For just as we neared the edge of the wood, just as our eyes were gladdened by the full sight of the sea across the intervening patch of bare land, the signorina gave a cry of pain and, in spite of my arm, fell heavily to the ground.

In a moment I was on my knees by her side.
An old root growing out of the ground! That was all! And there lay my dear girl white and still.
"What is it, sweet ?" I whispered.
"My ankle!" she murmured; "O Jack, it hurts so!" and with that she fainted.
Half an hour--thirty mortal (but seemingly immortal) minutes I knelt by her side ministering to her.

I bound up the poor foot, gave her brandy from my flask.