ne up in curl
papers.

On we climbed, creeping along the high shelf which was so untidily
loaded with rough, fallen stones and layers of mud, powdered with bits
of ice from the rocky wall that seemed sheathed in glass. Icicles
dangled heavy diamond fringes low over the roof of the car; snow lay in
dark hollows which the sun could never reach even in summer noons; and
as we ploughed obstinately on, always mounting, the engine trembling,
our fat tyres splashed into a custardy slush of whitish brown. The shelf
had been slippery before; now, slopping over with this thick mush of
melting snow or mud, it was like driving through gallons of ice pudding.
The great Aigle began to tremble and waltz on the surface that was no
surface; yet it would have been impossible to go back. I saw by my
companion's set face how real was the danger we were in; I saw, as the
car skated first one way, then another, that there were but a few inches
to spare on either side of the road shelf; the side which was a rocky
wall, the side which was a precipice; I saw, too, how the man braced
himself to this emergency, when three lives besides his own depended on
his nerve and skill, almost upon his breath--for it seemed as if a
breath too long, a breath too short, might hurl us down--down--I dared
not look or think how far. Yet the fixed look of courage and
self-confidence on his face was inspiring. I trusted him completely, and
I should have been ashamed to feel fear.

But it was at this moment, when all hung upon the driver's steadiness of
eye and hand, that Lady Turnour chose to begin emitting squeaks of
childish terror. I hadn't known I was nervous, and only found out that I
was highly strung by the jump I gave at her first shriek behind me. If
the chauffeur had started--but he didn't. He showed no sign of having
heard.

I would not venture to turn, and look round, lest the slightest movement
of my body so near his arm might disturb him; but poor Sir Samuel,
driven to desperation by his wife's hysterical cries, pushed down the
glass again.

"Good Lord, Dane, this is appalling!" he said. "My wife can't bear it.
Isn't it possible for us to--to--" he paused, not knowing how to end so
empty a sentence.

"All that's possible to do I'm doing," returned the chauffeur, still
looking straight ahead. And instead of advising the foolish old
bridegroom to shake the bride or box her ears, as surely he was tempted
to do, he added calmly that her ladyship m