air and so
remained for a little while. But a smile was upon his face, and once or
twice he chuckled aloud as he thought of his high diplomacy. He did not
remember at all that to-morrow he would lead mules up to the Montanvert
and conduct parties on the Mer de Glace.

CHAPTER VI

THE PAVILLON DE LOGNAN

The Pavillon de Lognan is built high upon the southern slope of the
valley of Chamonix, under the great buttresses of the Aiguille Verte. It
faces the north and from the railed parapet before its door the path
winds down through pastures bright with Alpine flowers to the pine woods,
and the village of Les Tines in the bed of the valley. But at its eastern
end a precipice drops to the great ice-fall of the Glacier d'Argentiere,
and night and day from far below the roar of the glacier streams enters
in at the windows and fills the rooms with the music of a river in spate.

At five o'clock on the next afternoon, Chayne was leaning upon the rail
looking straight down to the ice-fall. The din of the torrent was in his
ears, and it was not until a foot sounded lightly close behind him that
he knew he was no longer alone. He turned round and saw to his surprise
the over-dainty doll of the Annemasse buffet, the child of the casinos
and the bathing beaches, Sylvia Thesiger. His surprise was very
noticeable and Sylvia's face flushed. She made him a little bow and went
into the chalet.

Chayne noticed a couple of fresh guides by the door of the guides'
quarters. He remembered the book which he had seen her reading with so
deep an interest in the buffet. And in a minute or two she came out again
on to the earth platform and he saw that she was not overdressed to-day.
She was simply and warmly dressed in a way which suggested business. On
the other hand she had not made herself ungainly. He guessed her mountain
and named it to her.

"Yes," she replied. "Please say that it will be fine to-morrow!"

"I have never seen an evening of better promise," returned Chayne, with a
smile at her eagerness. The brown cliffs of the Aiguille du Chardonnet
just across the glacier glowed red in the sunlight; and only a wisp of
white cloud trailed like a lady's scarf here and there in the blue of the
sky. The woman of the chalet came out and spoke to him.

"She wants to know when we will dine," he explained to Sylvia. "There are
only you and I. We should dine early, for you will have to start early";
and he repeated the invariable cry