"My God! Excellency! The bridge!"
"Yes, I know. The bridge is down."
"The bridge is there. Excellency, the bridge is there!"
All Lovat could do was to laugh, a vacant laugh. Yes, it was there. But it was so impossible. The sun suddenly flashed behind it, and he saw the arrogant white structure soar like a bird, joining green hill to green hill. Beneath it rolled an unknown river, not the tumbling, snarling river of a week before, but a brown concave current, become gigantic, flying northward to the greatest of waters and carrying on its thewed back death and desolation. There was something that looked like a man and then an ox. And here was the wreckage of a homestead. And there was a jaguar and here was a great serpent of the jungle, and now a horse and here a gigantic tree. But the bridge spurned the river, floated on it like a swan. Lovat jumped off on the platform.
"It holds! It stays!" he cried exultantly. He rushed toward the house. "Cecily, it holds!"
But he felt, as he flung open the door, that the house was empty.
"Cecily! Where are you, Cecily?"
There was no one there but a weeping, terrified maid.
"Where is Madame? Where is your se?ora?"
But she only wept and wrung her hands. Lovat, half crazy, yanked her to her feet, and shook her.
"Where is Madame?
"Cecily! Cecily!"
He ran outside. It suddenly occurred to him that all his men had made way for him from the station, with silent pitying eyes. Why, they should have been cheering, too, but for something—
"Cecily! Cecily!" He ran around the little house.
One of the big Inca foreman detached himself from a standing group, and stood in front of the frenzied man.
"Excellency," he said, "there's no good calling Madame. Madame has left us."
"Left us? What do you mean?"
"Excellency—" the big Indian threw his hands toward the river—"the bridge is there, but Madame has left us. Don't you understand?"
With numbing force the blow descended on Lovat.
"The bridge took her, you mean."
"No, se?or. She left us."
Lovat suddenly straightened up.
"Mason, what do you mean?"
"Se?or, when the wind came and the flood, the men quit. The wind shrieked through the arches. The river rose and attacked the piers. And the bridge groaned, and we left. It was the will of God, we thought. He did n't want this chasm joined.
"And I came up toward your house, se?or, to see if everything was right there. I met Madame on the path. She had her big black cloak on.
"'You had better go back, se?ora,' I said.
"'I am going to the bridge,' she said.
"'But it is growing black as night, se?ora; you had better go back.'
"'Stand aside, Vicente,' was all she said. And there was something in her eyes that made me give way. She went on.
"Excellency, I loved Madame, as did every one here. And she liked me. And I was your man. I followed her down the path. I caught up to her at the bridge. It was blue dark, like twilight. The bridge was quivering. I caught the edge of her cape.
"'What are you going to do, se?ora?'
"'Stand aside, Vicente.'
"'You are crazy, se?ora!' I cried out.
"'No, Vicente, I am wise.'
"'You must n't, se?ora!'
"'I must, Vicente.'
"'Let me, se?ora,' I pleaded.
"'Vicente,' she said, 'you 've done your work on the bridge. Now I must do mine.'
"I could n't stop her, Excellency. Something in the face, in the eyes—I don't know—I dropped on my knees. She moved over the bridge.
"Excellency, from the time she was on it the bridge stopped quivering, the wind hushed. I saw her drop her cloak as she stood in the center. I saw her step forward, sure, unafraid. And for an instant I saw her, like a blossom in the wind....
"And so, Excellency, the bridge stands, will always stand...."