yes, which were wide open and missed nothing.

"You're hurt, I'm afraid. Can you tell me anything?"

Urquhart spoke in a curiously level tone. It seemed to give
impartiality to what he said, as if he had been discussing the
troubles of a man he hardly knew.

"Back broken, I believe. Anyhow, I can't feel anything. I'm sorry you
came down after me."

"My dear fellow," said James, "what do you take me for?"

Those bright, all-seeing, steady eyes were fixed upon him. They had
the air of knowing everything.

"Well, you knew what I _did_ take you for, anyhow, and so it would
have been reasonable--"

"We won't talk about all that," James said. "Let me cover you up with
something--and then I'll see what can be done about moving you."

Urquhart spoke indifferently about that. "I doubt if you can get
down--and it's a good step to Odde. Four hours, I dare say."

"Yes, but there would be a house nearer than Odde. If I could get some
bearers--we'd get you comfortable before dark."

"Oh, I'm comfortable enough now," Urquhart said. James thought that a
bad sign.

He unpacked the rucksacks, got out the brandy-flask, a mackintosh, a
sweater and a cape. "Now, my dear man, I'm going to hurt you, I'm
afraid; but I must have you on a dry bed; and you must drink some of
this liquor. Which will you have first?"

"The brandy," said Urquhart, "and as soon as you like."

He helped as much as he could, groaned once or twice, sweated with the
effort; but the thing was done. He lay on the mackintosh, his head on
a rucksack, the cape and sweater over him. Macartney went to the edge
of the plateau to prospect. A billowy sea of white stretched out to a
blue infinity. The clouds had lifted or been vaporised. He could see
nothing of Odde; but he believed that he could make out a thread of
silver, which must be the fiord. It would take him too long to get out
there and back--and yet to stay here! That meant that the pair of them
would die. It is but just to him to say that no alternative presented
itself to him. The pair of them would die? Well, yes. What else was
there? He returned. Urquhart was waiting for him, intensely awake to
everything.

"Old chap," said James, "that's no go. I didn't try the snow; but I
can judge distances. It's a deuce of a way down, even if there _is_ a
way, and--"

"It's all right," Urquhart said, "there isn't a way. I'm cornered this
time. But there's just a chance for you--if you work at it. It'll
begin t