With one accord they flung themselves, tired and panting,
on the sheltered level of the bivouac. Some sticks
were found, a fire was lighted, tea was once more
made. Walter Hine began to take heart; and as
the flames blazed up, the six men gathered about it,
crouching, kneeling, sitting, and the rocks resounded
with their laughter.
“Only a little further, Wallie!” said
Garratt Skinner, still true to his part.
They descended from the rocks, crossed a level field
of ice and struck the rock path along the slope of
the Mont de la Brenva.
“Keep on the rope,” said Garratt Skinner.
“Hine slipped at a corner as we came up”;
and Chayne glanced quickly at him. There were
one or two awkward corners above the lower glacier
where rough footsteps had been hewn. On one of
these Walter Hine had slipped, and Garratt Skinner
had saved him—had undoubtedly saved him.
At the very beginning of the climb, the object for
which it was undertaken was almost fulfilled, and would
have been fulfilled but that instinct overpowered Garratt
Skinner, and since the accident was unexpected, before
he had had time to think he had reached out his hand
and saved the life which he intended to destroy.
Along that path Hine was carefully brought to the
chalets of La Brenva. The peasants made him as
comfortable as they could.
“He will recover,” said Simond. “Oh
yes, he will recover. Two of us will stay with
him.”
“No need for that,” replied Garratt Skinner.
“Thank you very much, but that is my duty since
Hine is my friend.”
“I think not,” said Chayne, standing quietly
in front of Garratt Skinner. “Walter Hine
will be safe enough in Simond’s hands. I
want you to return with me to Courmayeur. My
wife is there and anxious.”
“Your wife?”
“Yes, Sylvia.”
Garratt Skinner nodded his head.
“I see,” he said, slowly. “Yes.”
He looked round the hut. Simond was going to
watch by Hine’s side. He was defeated utterly,
and recognized it. Then he looked at Chayne, and
smiled grimly.
“On the whole, I am not sorry that you have
married my daughter,” he said. “I
will come down to Courmayeur. It will be pleasant
to sleep in a bed.”
And together they walked down to Courmayeur, which
they reached soon after midnight.
RUNNING WATER
In two days’ time Walter Hine was sufficiently
recovered to be carried down to Courmayeur. He
had been very near to death upon the Brenva ridge,
certainly the second night upon which Garratt Skinner
had counted would have ended his life; he was frostbitten;
and for a long while the shock and the exposure left
him weak. But he gained strength with each day,
and Chayne had opportunities to admire the audacity
and the subtle skill with which Garratt Skinner had
sought his end. For Walter Hine was loud in his
