heart.

"Thank you, sweetheart!" he said, quietly. "You can trust. I thank you,"
and he added, gravely: "Whatever happens--you and I--there is no
altering that."

Michel opened the door.

"I will walk with you into Chamonix, and I will bring the best guides I
can find to your hotel."

They passed out, and crossed the fields quickly to Chamonix.

"Do you go to your hotel, monsieur," said Revailloud, "and leave the
choice to me. I must go about it quietly. If you were to come with me, we
should have to choose the first two guides upon the rota and that would
not do for the Brenva climb."

He left them at the door of the hotel and went off upon his errand.
Sylvia turned at once to Hilary; her face was very pale, her voice shook.

"You will tell me everything now. Something terrible has happened. No
doubt you feared it. You came to Chamonix because you feared it, and now
you know that it has happened."

"Yes," said Chayne. "I hid it from you even as you spared me your bad
news all this last year."

"Tell me now, please. If it is to be 'you and I,' as you said just now,
you will tell me."

Chayne led the way into the garden, and drawing a couple of chairs apart
from the other visitors told her all that he knew and she did not. He
explained the episode of the lighted window, solved for her the riddle of
her father's friendship for Walter Hine, and showed her the reason for
this expedition to the summit of Mont Blanc.

She uttered one low cry of horror. "Murder!" she whispered.

"To think that we are two days behind, that even now they are sleeping on
the rocks, _he_ and Walter Hine, sleeping quite peacefully and quietly.
Oh, it's horrible!" he cried, beating his hands upon his forehead in
despair, and then he broke off. He saw that Sylvia was sitting with her
hands covering her face, while every now and then a shudder shook her and
set her trembling.

"I am so sorry, Sylvia," he cried. "Oh, my dear, I had so hoped we should
be in time. I would have spared you this knowledge if I could. Who knows?
We may be still in time," and as he spoke Michel entered the garden with
one other man and came toward him.

"Henri Simond!" said Michel, presenting his companion. "You will know
that name. Simond has just come down from the Grepon, monsieur. He will
start with you at daylight."

Chayne looked at Simond. He was of no more than the middle height, but
broad of shoulder, deep of chest, and long of arm. His strength wa