hould make the traditional visit to
the Mer-de-Glace by the Montanvers during my absence.

On learning that I was going to ascend the Brevent, my friend did
not hesitate to accompany me thither. The ascent of the Brevent
is one of the most interesting trips that can be made from
Chamonix. This mountain, about seven thousand six hundred feet
high, is only the prolongation of the chain for the Aiguilles-Rouges,
which runs from the south-west to the north-east, parallel with that
of Mont Blanc, and forms with it the narrow valley of Chamonix. The
Brevent, by its central position, exactly opposite the Bossons
glacier, enables one to watch the parties which undertake the ascent
of the giant of the Alps nearly throughout their journey. It is
therefore much frequented.

We started about seven o'clock in the morning. As we went along,
I thought of the mysterious words of the master-guide; they
annoyed me a little. Addressing Ravanel, I said,--

"Have you made the ascent of Mont Blanc?"

"Yes, monsieur," he replied, "once; and that's enough. I am not
anxious to do it again."

"The deuce!" said I. "I am going to try it."

"You are free, monsieur; but I shall not go with you. The
mountain is not good this year. Several attempts have already
been made; two only have succeeded. As for the second, the party
tried the ascent twice. Besides, the accident last year has
rather cooled the amateurs."

"An accident! What accident?"

"Did not monsieur hear of it? This is how it happened. A party,
consisting of ten guides and porters and two Englishmen, started
about the middle of September for Mont Blanc. They were seen to
reach the summit; then, some minutes after, they disappeared in a
cloud. When the cloud passed over no one was visible. The two
travellers, with seven guides and porters, had been blown off by
the wind and precipitated on the Cormayeur side, doubtless into
the Brenva glacier. Despite the most vigilant search, their
bodies could not be found. The other three were found one hundred
and fifty yards below the summit, near the Petits-Mulets. They
had become blocks of ice."

"But these travellers must have been imprudent," said I to
Ravanel. "What folly it was to start off so late in the year on
such an expedition! They should have gone up in August."

I vainly tried to keep up my courage; this lugubrious story would
haunt me in spite of myself. Happily the weather soon cleared,
and the rays of a bright sun dissip