go to Banff together. I got
better rapidly and we made a few easy excursions into the mountains,
but the weather was bad and we didn't like our hotel. Then Walters
turned up again and told us about this place. In fact, he was rather
enthusiastic about it and said we'd find good rock climbs at the door,
so we agreed to move."

"And took Walters?"

"He was an amusing fellow. He'd a way of finding something interesting
for one to do and was always ready when he was wanted; a very useful
man to have about."

Foster imagined his comrade might have found the fellow about when he
was not wanted, but Mrs. Stephen's smile was illuminating. It seemed
to hint that Lawrence had found Walters useful because he took her off
his hands. Foster thought it curious that the man was satisfied with
his part, since Lucy was a very attractive girl. Walters had obviously
not attached himself to the party on her account.

"As I got stronger we tried some harder climbs," Lawrence went on.
"Lucy is clever and steady on the ice; I'd had some practice on
Scawfell in winter when I was at home, and though Walters didn't know
much about the work his nerve is good. At length, we resolved to try
the sharp peak yonder."

It was nearly dark, but Foster, looking up the valley, saw a white
summit gleam against the sky. The shoulders of the mountain had faded
to a pale gray, and the darker streak that filled a deep hollow marked
a glacier.

"We started early and at first found the glacier rough but safe.
Walters had insisted on two guides; prospectors, used to the rocks, who
now and then took a tourist party out. The glacier brought us up some
height, but after a time the surface began to be broken by big
crevasses. We spent two hours picking our way across and at noon saw
we must find another route. The slope on the right would take us off
our line; on the left there were high, icy rocks that would puzzle a
member of the Alpine club."

"We sat down and examined the mountain with the glasses. Above the
crags, a snowfield ran up to the foot of the last sharp ridge, but we
did not see how we could reach it. Ragged clouds drove across the
ridge and blowing snow streamed about the peak like mist. Lucy,
however, was keen on going on, and by and by one of the guides picked
out a _coulee_ that might take us up. _Coulee's_ good French-Canadian,
but Alpinists call it a _couloir_. It looked like a thin, white,
perpendicular streak on the fac