And then the wind changed or died away, or both, for there came a vast cloud of rolling smoke, black, cruel, suffocating; and the mountain crest and the child-angel were snatched from my sight.
"I was roused by a shriek from Ethel.

I saw her rush up the slope, and struggle in a vain endeavor to save her friend.

But before she had taken a dozen steps down came the rolling smoke, black, wrathful, and sulphurous; and I saw her crouch down and stagger back, and finally emerge pale as death, and gasping for breath.

She saw me as I stood there; in fact, I had moved a little nearer.
"'Oh, Sir,' she cried, 'save her! Oh, my God, she's lost!' "This was very informal, you know, and all that sort of thing; but _she_ had broken the ice, and had accosted _me_; so I waived all ceremony, and considered the introduction sufficient.

I took off my hat, and told her to calm herself.
"But she only wrung her hands, and implored me to save her friend.
"And now, my boy, lucky was it for me that my experience at Cotopaxi and Popocatepetl had been so thorough and so peculiar.