They saw the stranger come slowly above the precipice, and then stop, and stoop, and look back.

Then they saw--oh, Heavens! who was that?
Was not that her red hood--and that figure who thus slowly emerged from behind the edge of the precipice which had so long concealed her--that figure! Was it possible?
Not dead--not mangled, but living, moving, and, yes--wonder of wonders--scaling a precipice! Could it be! Oh joy! Oh bliss! Oh revulsion from despair! The ladies trembled and shivered, and laughed and sobbed convulsively, and wept in one another's arms by turns.
As far as they could see through the tears that dimmed their eyes, Minnie could not be much injured.

She moved quite lightly over the snow, as the stranger led her toward the sled; only sinking once or twice, and then extricating herself even more readily than her companion.

At last she reached the sled, and the stranger, taking off the blanket that he had worn under the rope, threw it over her shoulders.
Then he signaled to the men above, and they began to pull up the sled.
The stranger climbed up after it through the deep snow, walking behind it for some distance.

At last he made a despairing gesture to the men, and sank down.
The men looked bewildered, and stopped pulling.
The stranger started up, and waved his hands impatiently, pointing to Minnie.
The drivers began to pull once more at the sled, and the stranger once more sank exhausted in the snow.
At this Ethel started up.
"That noble soul!" she cried; "that generous heart! See! he is saving Minnie, and sitting down to die in the snow!" She sprang toward the men, and endeavored to make them do something.
By her gestures she tried to get two of the men to pull at the sled, and the third man to let the fourth man down with a rope to the stranger.