r been
ascended, and the few who had descended it bore ample testimony to its
difficulties. But a third night, no! Lattery should have been in Chamonix
yesterday, without a doubt. He would not indeed have food for three
nights and days.

Chayne translated the telegram into French and read it out to Michel
Revailloud.

"The Col des Nantillons," said Michel, with a shake of the head, and
Chayne saw the fear which he felt himself looking out from his
guide's eyes.

"It is possible," said Michel, "that Monsieur Lattery did not start
after all."

"He would have telegraphed again."

"Yes," Michel agreed. "The weather has been fine too. There have been no
fogs. Monsieur Lattery could not have lost his way."

"Hardly in a fog on the Glacier du Geant," replied Chayne.

Michel Revailloud caught at some other possibility.

"Of course, some small accident--a sprained ankle--may have detained him
at the hut on the Col du Geant. Such things have happened. It will be as
well to telegraph to Courmayeur."

"Why, that's true," said Chayne, and as they walked to the post-office he
argued more to convince himself than Michel Revailloud. "It's very
likely--some quite small accident--a sprained ankle." But the moment
after he had sent the telegram, and when he and Michel stood again
outside the post-office, the fear which was in him claimed utterance.

"The Col des Nantillons is a bad place, Michel, that's the truth. Had
Lattery been detained in the hut he would have found means to send us
word. In weather like this, that hut would be crowded every night; every
day there would be some one coming from Courmayeur to Chamonix. No! I am
afraid of the steep slabs of that rock-wall."

And Michael Revailloud said slowly:

"I, too, monsieur. It is a bad place, the Col des Nantillons; it is not a
quick way or a good way to anywhere, and it is very dangerous. And yet I
am not sure. Monsieur Lattery was very safe on rocks. Ice, that is
another thing. But he would be on rock."

It was evident that Michel was in doubt, but it seemed that Chayne could
not force himself to share it.

"You had better get quietly together what guides you can, Michel," he
said. "By the time a rescue party is made up the answer will have come
from Courmayeur."

Chayne walked slowly back to the hotel. All those eager anticipations
which had so shortened his journey this morning, which during the last
two years had so often raised before his eyes through the