hall we do?" he whispered. "Shall I go for help?"

"No. Get your axe, and begin cutting some foothold for us: three or
four good deep, long notches, about a yard apart. Begin six or eight
feet away from the edge. We want purchase to pull him out."

"But the rope--the rope!" cried Saxe. "Do as I tell you."

Saxe obeyed without a word, driving the pick-end into the ice, and
making the chips fly in the grey light of evening, for the shadows were
now falling fast; and as the lad worked and cut the deep groove, Dale
bent over the crevasse and spoke.

"Better!" he said.

"Yes, herr: more life in me now."

"Have you your rope?"

Saxe stopped to listen for the answer, and, though it was only a matter
of moments, he suffered agonies of expectation before he heard the
answer.

"Yes."

"Take off the lanthorn and stand it by you, or fasten it to your belt."

"Yes, herr."

"Make fast your rope to the string, and let me draw it up."

"It will not reach, herr."

"I know. I have mine."

There was a pause only broken by the chipping of the ice-axe, and then
the voice came up again in a hollow whisper--

"Ready!"

"If it will only bear it," muttered Dale, as he steadily drew upon the
string, hand over hand, expecting moment by moment that it would part.
But it bore the weight of the rope well, and in a few minutes he was
able to lift the coil over the edge on to the glacier.

Saxe heard him give a sigh of relief as he bent down and drew it away;
but he turned back to the crack directly, and shouted down in slow,
solemn words--

"Keep a good heart man, and if it is to be done we'll save you."

"With God's help, herr," came up; and the voice sounded to Saxe, as he
toiled away, less despairing.

"Now!" cried Dale, speaking quickly and excitedly: "pray with me, lad,
that these two ropes together may be long enough. Quick! Out with your
knife."

Saxe obeyed, and stood ready while Dale rapidly joined the two ropes
together; but, not content with his knot, he cut off a couple of pieces
of string, and rapidly bound down the loose ends so that they should by
no possibility slip through the loops.

This done, and Saxe once more cutting the grooves he was making more
deeply, Dale rapidly ran Melchior's rope through his hands, and made a
knot and slip-noose.

"Keep on cutting," he said to Saxe. "No: a better idea. Pick a hole--
there!" He stamped his foot in the place he meant. "Small and deep, so
as to tu