"I shall go wherever you lead," he said hotly, unable to control
himself. "To bury you, I would descend into Hell itself."
"Very well, Secretary. My second will lead the way with the torch.
Watch your step, and be sure to tell us if you begin to flag along the
way."
Ballard suppressed a grin of pleasure, and began to climb. The others
followed.
The aristocrat's hard resolve could not last. Soon he moved as if in
chains, every step a punishment. This man who had begun life so high,
gliding easily and arrogantly down the gentle incline, now found
himself struggling bitterly just to reach the level ground of final
judgment.
Halfway up it was clear that he should go no further. His breath came
in tight gasps, as almost unconsciously he clutched at the growing
pain in his left arm and shoulder.
Becoming alarmed, his orderly called a halt, and approached his
failing master. "Your Lordship must rest," he whispered emphatically.
But the others looked down in sneering silence. As soon as he regained
his breath the old man pushed him off, and said harshly.
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