see the sun rise. He wore the
clothes of a climber and a green hat with a tuft at the back. He
looked down at the two boys, surprised.

"Good day," he said. "Did you sleep here so that you could see the sun
get up?"

"Yes," answered Marco.

"Were you cold?"

"We slept too soundly to know. And we brought our thick coats."

"I slept half-way down the mountains," said the smoker. "I am a guide
in these days, but I have not been one long enough to miss a sunrise it
is no work to reach. My father and brother think I am mad about such
things. They would rather stay in their beds. Oh! he is awake, is
he?" turning toward The Rat, who had risen on one elbow and was staring
at him. "What is the matter? You look as if you were afraid of me."

Marco did not wait for The Rat to recover his breath and speak.

"I know why he looks at you so," he answered for him. "He is startled.
Yesterday we went to a hair-dresser's shop down below there, and we saw
a man who was almost exactly like you--only--" he added, looking up,
"his eyes were gray and yours are brown."

"He was my twin brother," said the guide, puffing at his pipe
cheerfully. "My father thought he could make hair-dressers of us both,
and I tried it for four years. But I always wanted to be climbing the
mountains and there were not holidays enough. So I cut my hair, and
washed the pomade out of it, and broke away. I don't look like a
hair-dresser now, do I?"

He did not. Not at all. But Marco knew him. He was the man. There
was no one on the mountain-top but themselves, and the sun was just
showing a rim of gold above the farthest and highest giant's shoulders.
One need not be afraid to do anything, since there was no one to see or
hear. Marco slipped the sketch out of the slit in his sleeve. He
looked at it and he looked at the guide, and then he showed it to him.

"That is not your brother. It is you!" he said.

The man's face changed a little--more than any other face had changed
when its owner had been spoken to. On a mountain-top as the sun rises
one is not afraid.

"The Lamp is lighted," said Marco. "The Lamp is lighted."

"God be thanked!" burst forth the man. And he took off his hat and
bared his head. Then the rim behind the mountain's shoulder leaped
forth into a golden torrent of splendor.

And The Rat stood up, resting his weight on his crutches in utter
silence, and stared and stared.

"That is three!" said Marco.

XX