sometimes it seemed through fear, sometimes to quiet the dangerous swaying of the wire, yet never looking back and always going forward—slowly, slowly he went over the swollen, angry torrent. The man thought of the white face he had seen go under, and shuddered. He wondered if this other man had seen it as it passed. This other man—Katie’s hero, he would call him! He was jealous. Where should he be when this fellow returned full of glory? Katie’s hero! Oh, it was safe enough, after all, the wire, seeing that it bore this fellow, who was as tall as he! Why had he not gone and been brave for once? To stand before her eyes with a heart like a hare, and to fail her—to fail her!
"Katie’s hero had crossed; he had stopped for a moment on the other side, where the lower wire had broken and there was no longer rest for his feet. Then he held on with his hands, and swung himself across with them alone. He sank on the ground on the other side for a minute, and the man almost hoped for a jealous second that his rival had failed; but when the man rose to his feet and ran down the line, he muttered hoarsely,—
