"Hold fast，"she called calmly to the driver，and began dragging him upward，inch by inch.
He understood instantly the task she had undertaken，and in a moment his courage returned and he managed to get his foot in a crack of the rock and assist her by relieving her of part of his weight.Just above was a slight ledge；he could reach it now；and then she had him by the arm，so that another instant found him clinging to the parapet and drawing himself into aposition of safety.
The wind had died away as suddenly as it came upon them.The horses，as soon as the strain upon their bits was relaxed，were easily quieted.Before those in the carriage had quite realized what had occurred the adventure was accomplished，the peril was past，and all was well again.
Uncle John leaped from the carriage，followed by Louiseand Patsy.The young horseman who had come to their assistance so opportunelya was none other than Count Ferralti，whom they had such good reason to distrust.He was sitting upon his horse and staring with amazement at Beth，at whose feet the driver was grovelling while tears flowed down his bronzed cheeks and he protested in an absurd mixture of English and Italian，by every saint in the calendar，that the girl had saved him from a frightful death and he would devote his future life to her service.
"It is wonderful！"murmured Ferralti."However could sucha slip of a girl do so great a deed？""Why，it's nothing at all，"returned Beth，flushing ；"we're trained to do such things in the gymnasium at Cloverton，and I'm much stronger than I appear to be.""'Twas her head，mostly，"said Patsy，giving her cousinan admiring hug；"she kept her wits while the rest of us were scared to death."Uncle John had been observing the Count.One of theyoung man's hands hung limp and helpless."Are you hurt，sir？"he asked.
Ferralti smiled，and his eyes rested upon Louise.
"A little，perhaps，Mr.Merrick；but it is unimportant.The horses were frantic at the time and wrenched my wrist viciously as I tried to hold them.I felt something snap；a small bone，perhaps.But I am sure it is nothing of moment.""We'd better get back to Sorrento，"said Uncle John，abruptly.
"Not on my accounta，I beg of you，"returned Ferralti，quickly."We are half way to Amalfi now，and you may as well go on.For my part，if the wrist troubles me，I will see a surgeon at Amal?—that is，if you permit me to accompany you."He said this with a deferentb bow and a glance of inquiry.
Uncle John could not well refuse.The young fellow might be a shamc count，but the manliness and courage he had displayed in their grave emergency surely entitled him to their grateful consideration.
"You are quite welcome to join us，"said Uncle John.
The driver had by now repaired a broken strap and found his equipage otherwise uninjured.
The horses stood meekly quiescent，as if they had neverknown a moment's fear in their lives.So the girls and theiruncle climbed into the vehicle again and the driver mounted the box and cracked his whip with his usual vigor.
The wind had subsideda as suddenly as it had arisen，and as they passed through Positano—which is four hundred feet high，the houses all up and down the side of a cliff like swallows'nests—big ?akes of snow were gently falling around them.
Count Ferralti rode at the side of the carriage but did not attempt much conversation.His lips were tight set and the girls，slyly observing his face，were sure his wrist was hurting him much more than he cared to acknowledge.
Circling around the cliff beyond Positano the sun greeted them，shining from out a blue sky，and they wondered what had become of the bad weather they had so lately experienced.
From now on，past Positano and into Amalfi，the daywas brilliant and the temperature delightful.It was full noon by the time they alighted atb the little gate—house of the ancient Cappuccini—Convento，now a hotel much favored by the tourist.Count Ferralti promised to join them later and rode on to the town to ?nd a surgeon to look after his injured hand，while the others slowly mounted the long inclines leading in a zigzag fashion up to the old monastery，which was founded in the year 1212.
From the arboredc veranda of this charming retreat isobtained one of the finest views in Europe，and while the girls sat enjoying it Uncle John arranged with a pleasant faced woman （who had once lived in America）for their luncheon.
An hour later，and just as they were sitting down to themeal，Count Ferralti rejoined them.His hand was bandaged and supported by a sling，and in answer to Louise's gentle inquiries he said，simply：
"It was as I had feared：a small bone snapped.But my surgeon is skillful，and says time will mend the wrist as good as new."In spite of his courage he could eat no luncheon，butmerely sipped a glass of wine；so Uncle John，alarmed at his pallor，insisted that he take a seat in the carriage on the return journey.Beth wanted to ride the Count's horse home，but there was no side saddle to be had，so they led the animal by a halter fastened behind the ricketya carriage，and Beth mounted the box and rode beside her friend the driver.
The pleasant weather lasted until they neared Sorrento，when another shower of rain came up.They reached their hotel damp and bedraggledb，but enthusiastic over their wonderful trip and the interesting adventure it had incidentally developed.
