In a state of agonised suspense I stood there waiting.  At last I said: 

‘I must go after her.  We shall lose her—­I know we shall lose her.’

Sinfi demurred a moment, then acceded to my wish, and we went up the main pathway and peered round the corner of the jutting rock where Winifred had last been visible.  There, along a ragged shelf bordering a yawning chasm—­a shelf that seemed to me scarce wide enough for a human foot—­Winifred was running and balancing herself as surely as a bird over the abyss.

‘Mind she doesn’t turn round sharp and see you,’ said the Gypsy.  ’If she does she’ll lose her head and over she’ll fall!’

I crouched and gazed at Winifred as she glided along towards a vast mountain of vapour that was rolling over the chasm close to her.  She stood and looked into the floating mass for a moment, and then passed into it and was lost from view.

VI

‘Now I can follow her,’ said Sinfi; ’but you mustn’t try to come along here.  Wait till I come back.  I suppose you’ve given her all the breakfiss.  Give me a drop of brandy out o’ your flask.’

I gave her some brandy and took a long draught of the burning liquor myself, for I was fainting.

‘I shall go with you,’ I said.

‘Dordi,’ said the Gypsy, ‘how quickly you’d be a-layin’ at the bottom there!’ and she pointed down into the gulf at our feet.

‘I shall go with you,’ I said.

‘No, you won’t,’ said the Gypsy doggedly; ’’cause I sha’n’t go.  I shall git round and meet her.  I know where we shall strike across her slot.  She’ll be makin’ for Llanberis.’

‘I let her escape,’ I moaned.  ’I had her in my arms once; but you signalled to me not to grip her.’

‘If you had ha’ grabbed her,’ said the Gypsy, ‘she’d ha’ pulled you along like a feather—­she’s so mad strong.  You go hack to the llyn.’

The Gypsy girl passed along the shelf and was soon lost in the veil of vapour.

I returned to the llyn and threw myself down upon the ground, for my legs sank under me, but the dizziness of fatigue softened the effect of my distress.  The rocks and peaks were swinging round my head.  Soon I found the Gypsy bending over me.

‘I can’t find her,’ said she.  ’We had best make haste and strike across her path as she makes for Llanberis.  I have a notion as she’s sure to do that.’

As fast as we could scramble along those rugged tracks we made our way to the point where the Gypsy expected that Winifred would pass.  We remained for hours, beating about in all directions in search of her,—­Sinti every now and then touching her crwth with the bow,—­but without any result.

‘It’s my belief she’s gone straight down to Llanberis,’ said Sinfi; ‘and we’d best lose no time, but go there too.’