before in
his life, _pere_ Baltet smiled with a tranquil air. A robust Savoyard,
tall and broad, with a round back and slow walk, a heavy face,
close-shaven, enlivened by two shrewd eyes, that were still young,
contrasting oddly with his baldness, caused by chills at dawn upon the
mountain.

"These gentlemen wish to ascend Mont Blanc?" he said, gauging the
Tarasconese Alpinists with a glance both humble and sarcastic. Tartarin
was about to reply, but Bompard forestalled him:-- "Isn't the season
too far advanced?" "Why, no," replied the former guide. "Here's a
Swedish gentleman who goes up to-morrow, and I am expecting at the end
of this week two American gentlemen to make the ascent; and one of them
is blind."

"I know. I met them on the Guggi." "Ah! monsieur has been upon the
Guggi?" "Yes, a week ago, in doing the Jungfrau." Here a quiver among
the evangelical conventiclers; all pens stopped, and heads were raised
in the direction of Tartarin, who, to the eyes of these English
maidens, resolute climbers, expert in all sports, acquired considerable
authority. He had gone up the Jungfrau!

"A fine thing!" said _pere_ Baltet, considering the P. C. A. with some
astonishment; while Pascalon, intimidated by the ladies and blushing and
stuttering, murmured softly:--

"Ma-a-aster, tell them the... the... thing... crevasse."

The president smiled. "Child!.." he said: but, all the same, he began
the tale of his fall; first with a careless, indifferent air, and then
with startled motions, jigglings at the end of the rope over the
abyss, hands outstretched and appealing. The young ladies quivered, and
devoured him with those cold English eyes, those eyes that open round.

In the silence that followed, rose the voice of Bompard:--

"On Chimborazo we never roped one another to cross crevasses."

The delegates looked at one another. As a tarasconade that remark
surpassed them all.

"Oh, _that_ Bompard, _pas mouain_..." murmured Pascalon, with ingenuous
admiration.

But pere Baltet, taking Chimborazo seriously, protested against the
practice of not roping. According to him, no ascension over ice was
possible without a rope, a good rope of Manila hemp; then, if one
slipped, the others could hold him.

"Unless the rope breaks, Monsieur Baltet," said Tartarin, remembering
the catastrophe on the Matterhorn.

But the landlord, weighing his words, replied:

"The rope did not break on the Matterhorn... the rear guide cut it