face just where her
father's icy finger had touched her.

"No; this brow shall nevermore see the light of day," she cried,
holding fast with her hands, while trying to find a way along the edge
of the cliff. Suddenly, she heard the loud voice of a woman singing.
Irma drew a long breath, for it was a human voice--a woman's, perhaps
that of a young and lovely girl, giving her lover a signal in the
night. The sounds were repeated again and again, and grew more and more
piercing, and, trembling with wordnetfear, Irma sat on the rock. She answered
with a scream. She was frightened at the sound of her own voice, but
she cried out again and again, for now there was an answer. The other
voice seemed to approach; dogs rushed forth and were already
surrounding Irma and barking, as a signal that they had found the prey.
The voice came nearer and nearer.

"Where are you?" she asked.

"Here," answered Irma.

"Where?"

"Here."

"Up there?"

"Yes."

"How did you get up there?"

"I don't know."

"Keep quiet; don't move