taineering expedition in Switzerland, encounters
Lady Margaret Tamerton, whom he has not seen since childhood. With her
are her brother, Lord Tamerton; her cousin, Sir Ernest Scrivener; and
three Swiss guides. They combine to make an ascent of the Wetterhorn
under Ralph's leadership. Early in the climb Ralph discovers that Sir
Ernest Scrivener is none other than his own mortal foe, Marmaduke
Moorsdyke. A perilous traverse of a glacier has to be undertaken. All
cross in safety except Sir Ernest, who makes imprudent remark which
causes a line of overhanging_ seracs _to collapse upon him and sweep him
down the glacier. Ralph dives unhesitatingly to the rescue of his
deadliest foe._]

Rather than face a second traverse of the awful glacier the remaining
members of the party continued the ascent. With shaken nerves they
pressed on to the best of their ability, but it was nearly dark when
they at length reached the summit, hoping to find another and easier
route to the foot.

But luck was against them. A devastating blizzard enveloped them, and
they lay huddled together behind a rock, chilled to the bone by the
driving particles of ice and snow.

"There is no escape," said Lord Tamerton mournfully to his sister, Lady
Margaret. "We must prepare to meet our deaths like true mountaineers."

"True fiddlesticks!" replied Lady Margaret with spirit. "Ralph will come
back to us."

"Do you love him, Madge?" asked her brother.

"Yes," she replied simply.

"Then he will surely come back."

Even as he spoke a tall figure loomed out of the blizzard and raised his
hat with cold formality.

"Your cousin is safe in the hospital at Interlaken," said Ralph,
addressing Lord Tamerton with marked constraint. "He has merely
sustained a fractured patella. With your permission we will now
descend."

"What is the matter, Ralph?" cried Lady Margaret pleadingly; but,
ignoring her question, he busied himself in tying on the rope.

The descent which followed is still spoken of with bated breath by the
Swiss guides, than whom there is no more generous body of men in the
world.

Unerringly Ralph led his companions through aretes, glissades,
bergschrunds, ruecksacs, gendarmes, vorwaerts, couloirs, aiguilles, never
hesitating, never flinching from any obstacle, heedless, it seemed,
alike of the raging blizzard and the ever-thickening darkness. At times
he was obliged to carry the others one by one along razor edges of hard
blue ice. At times