old!"
cried Dale. "Oh, Melchior! now I have so far had so much respect for
you as a frank, manly Switzer, don't spoil it by trying to cloak an
error with a paltry excuse. You did not properly secure the rope; it
came off; and it was an accident. You know it was an accident, so let
it rest."

"I have tried hard to win the herr's confidence, and to deserve it,"
said the man coldly. "I secured that rope as I believe any guide upon
the mountains would have fastened it. The rope gave way not by breaking
or coming untied, and I cannot tell how. I told the herr the beliefs of
my people, and that I had ceased to think that they were true; but we
are seeking to penetrate the mysteries of the mines, and this accident
has befallen us. I can say no more."

"Better not to say more," said Dale coldly. "Will you lead on?"

Saxe glanced in the guide's face, and gave him a look of sympathy as he
saw how it was wrinkled and drawn with trouble; but nothing more was
said, and he went on coiling up the rope as they passed along the dark
chasm, only stopping to untie the knot as they reached the main rift and
began the descent toward the glacier.

It was no place for conversation, even if Saxe had been so disposed; for
every one's energies were taken up by the task of mastering the way
between or over the rugged blocks which filled the bottom of the place.
But at last, at a sudden turn, a gleam of the white ice was seen, and
soon after Dale was busily obliterating the mark he had made that
morning for Melchior's guidance.

Then began the slow descent, sometimes beside, sometimes over the
glacier--wherever Melchior could indicate a short cut; the crevasses
were passed, each bringing up its recollections of their adventures, and
at last a more even part of their journey fell to their lot along the
polished rock.

But Dale went on in silence, answering Saxe so shortly several times
that he dropped back from walking abreast, and went on down for some
distance half-way between his companions.

"I can't help it," he said to himself at last: "he must be offended if
he likes. I don't believe poor old Melk could help the accident. I
shall walk with him."

He waited for the guide to come up, and he was soon abreast, looking
inquiringly at him, as if asking what he meant to say. The man's face
was dark and heavy of aspect, and he was evidently deeply hurt by Dale's
anger; and, in consequence, he looked up with a bright smile as Sax