RODERICK HUDSON
hands than Christina's were laid upon Roderick's shoulders.
He turned, staring, pale and angry. Christina rose, pale and staring too, but beautiful in her wonder and alarm. "My dear young idiot," said Rowland, "I 'm only preventing you from doing a very foolish thing. That 's an exploit for spiders, not for young sculptors of promise."
Roderick wiped his forehead, looked back at the wall; he closed his eyes as if with a rush of retarded dizziness. "I won't resist you," he said. "But I 've made you do as I told you," he added, turning to Christina. "Am I weak now?"
She had recovered her composure; she looked straight past him and addressed Rowland. "Be so good as to show me the way out of this horrible place!"
He helped her back into the corridor; Roderick followed after a short interval. Of course, as they were descending the steps, came questions for Rowland to meet, also more or less surprise. Where had he come from? how happened he to have appeared just at that moment? Rowland answered that he had been rambling overhead and that, looking out of an aperture, he had seen a gentleman preparing to undertake a preposterous gymnastic feat and a lady swooning away in consequence. Interference seemed in order, and he had made it as prompt as possible. Roderick was far from hanging his head as might become a man who had been caught in the perpetration of an extravagant folly; but if he held it more erect than usual our friend believed that this was much less because he had made a show of personal
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