om Saxe's breast, but his face looked cold and hard.

"You might have said the same about me," he whispered back; "but I am
here."

"Yes, herr; but then you were able to make some sign of being alive. We
have shouted and looked about for a long time now, but have heard
nothing of poor Mr Dale, and my heart is growing cold about him."

"Oh, don't say that!" cried Saxe. "It is too horrible. We must--we
will find him. Perhaps he is quite buried under the snow."

Saxe's last words made the guide turn and look at him curiously; but he
said no word, only kept on walking down slowly toward the foot of the
slope, sweeping his eyes over the way they traversed from side to side,
his keen glance taking in the slightest thing, and making him hurry away
to carefully examine places where the snow and ice lay high or more
ragged; but they kept on with their difficult descent, and saw nothing
that afforded them a clue to Dale's whereabouts.

"Oh, we must have help to search the place well!" cried Saxe in agony.
"It will soon be too dark to see anything, and we are so useless alone."

"Yes, herr," said the guide sadly; "but it will take six hours to get
people here at the very least, and I don't like to go away while there
is the least chance of our finding him."

"You are right," sighed Saxe; "while we were gone for help he might be
perishing, and we could have saved him. We must stop and search till we
drop."

That seemed as if it would not be long first, as far as the boy was
concerned. He had apparently forgotten the numbness of his limbs and
the peril through which he had passed, and in spite of the roughness of
the ice and snow he continued to get over it in his extemporised
sandals, which had the advantage of not slipping. But the day's toil
had been excessive before the accident; and though his spirits had kept
him up so far, the time was fast approaching when exhaustion would
conquer.

Melchior knew it, and after glancing at Saxe as he tottered once and
nearly fell, he went on for a few minutes before speaking and hurting
the boy's feelings by telling him that it was because of his weariness,
then suddenly drew up, took off and threw down his rope.

"One can't go on for ever without getting strength, herr," he said.
"I'm nearly wearied out. Let's sit down on the rope for a few minutes."

"No, no: let's keep on. He may be anxiously waiting for our help."

"If we go on as we are, herr, we shall be too weak t