me followed him to College.

CHAPTER VII

IN THE DAUPHINE

The day broke tardily among the mountains of Dauphine. At half-past three
on a morning of early August light should be already stealing through the
little window and the chinks into the hut upon the Meije. But the four
men who lay wrapped in blankets on the long broad shelf still slept in
darkness. And when the darkness was broken it was by the sudden spit of a
match. The tiny blue flame spluttered for a few seconds and then burned
bright and yellow. It lit up the face of a man bending over the dial of a
watch and above him and about him the wooden rafters and walls came dimly
into view. The face was stout and burned by the sun to the colour of a
ripe apple, and in spite of a black heavy moustache had a merry and
good-humoured look. Little gold earrings twinkled in his ears by the
light of the match. Annoyance clouded his face as he remarked the time.

"Verdammt! Verdammt!" he muttered.

The match burned out, and for a while he listened to the wind wailing
about the hut, plucking at the door and the shutters of the window. He
climbed down from the shelf with a rustle of straw, walked lightly for a
moment or two about the hut, and then pulled open the door quickly. As
quickly he shut it again.

From the shelf Linforth spoke:

"It is bad, Peter?"

"It is impossible," replied Peter in English with a strong German accent.
For the last three years he and his brother had acted as guides to the
same two men who were now in the Meije hut. "We are a strong party, but
it is impossible. Before I could walk a yard from the door, I would have
to lend a lantern. And it is after four o'clock! The water is frozen in
the pail, and I have never known that before in August."

"Very well," said Linforth, turning over in his blankets. It was warm
among the blankets and the straw, and he spoke with contentment. Later in
the day he might rail against the weather. But for the moment he was very
clear that there were worse things in the world than to lie snug and hear
the wind tearing about the cliffs and know that there was no chance of
facing it.

"We will not go back to La Berarde," he said. "The storm may clear. We
will wait in the hut until tomorrow."

And from a third figure on the shelf there came in guttural English:

"Yes, yes. Of course."

The fourth man had not wakened from his sleep, and it was not until he
was shaken by the shoulder at ten o'clock in