At the end of the year when the cliffs rise up before you

So this is a question primarily for those who have read Mary Stewart's My Brother Michael, but I'll even accept the help of those who haven't. I am attempting to learn how a story ends. A dubious proposition at best, and made even more difficult in this case as the storyteller has certain ominous motives of his own; one must always look for the slant. As our narrator Camilla Haven tells it—

"These rocks," said Dimitrios, "are called the Phaedriades, the Shining Ones. Always I tell my tourists the story of the Shining Ones. Between them flows the Castalian Spring, whose water is the best in Greece. Have you tried the water of the spring, mademoiselle?"

"No, not yet. I—"

He came a step nearer. I was between him and the edge of the cliff. "They stand over the shrine like guardians, do they not? Because that is what they are. They were not only the protectors of the holy place, but they were themselves the place of execution. There were people executed on these cliffs—for sacrilege, mademoiselle. Did you know that?"

"No. But—"

Another step. He was smiling, a smile of great charm. He had a pleasant voice. Beside me in the dust I saw Danielle lift her head. I saw that her eyes now watched me, not the man. She was smiling at me with the utmost friendliness, her eyes for once bright, not tired at all. I moved back from him a step or two. It brought me within four feet of the edge.

Dimitrios said suddenly, "Be careful." I jumped and his hand came out to my arm. It was gentle on the flesh. "You are not here for execution as a traitor to the god, mademoiselle." He laughed, and Danielle smiled, and I thought suddenly, wildly, Why the hell can't I just pull my arm away and run? I hate the pair of them and they frighten me, and here I stand because it isn't polite to go while the damned man's talking.

"I always tell my tourists," he was saying, "one particular story. There was a certain traitor who was brought up for execution. Two of them came with him to the edge . . . just there . . . to throw him over. He looked down . . . yes, mademoiselle, it is a long way down, is it not? . . . and then he said to them, Please will you not send me over face first, please will you let me fall with my back to the drop? One understands how he felt, mademoiselle, does one not?"

His hand was still on my arm. I pulled back against it. It slid gently up the flesh to the inside of my elbow. I noticed that his nails were bitten to the quick and that his thumb was badly cut and crusted with dried blood. I started to turn from him and to pull my arm away, but his fingers tightened. His voice quickened a little in my ear, "So they threw him over, mademoiselle, and as he fell, he—"

I said breathlessly, "Let me go. I don't like heights. Let me go, please."

Danielle's voice said, dry and thin, "Are these your tourists, Dimitrios?"

—and our heroine flees and we never find out what happened to the traitor as he fell. I understand that's not the point of the episode, but this scene stuck with me the very first time I read My Brother Michael and by now I've been curious for almost fifteen years. So does anyone know? Is this a particularly famous tale about the Phaidriades that I should know for my orals, or did Mary Stewart make it up, or what am I reading here? Au secours!