he would cling precariously by one hand to a
projecting splinter of rock, while with the other he lowered them all
bodily into the depths of a crevasse, gripping his ice-axe meanwhile
steadfastly between his teeth. Once at least he was compelled to hang
downwards by his toes while he hewed steps beneath him in a
perpendicular wall of ice. And through it all his face retained its
stern impassivity and he addressed no word to his exhausted companions.

At length the most wonderful feat in the history of climbing was
finished, and the party, weary but thankful, stood at the foot of the
mountain.

The three guides fell on their knees before their rescuer, but he
ignored them and turned his cold, hard gaze upon Lady Margaret.

"You are now safe," he said icily. "My presence is no longer necessary.
Take the third turning on the left, the second on the right and the
fifth on the left, and then ask again. Before I leave I ought perhaps to
congratulate you upon your approaching marriage to your--er--amiable
cousin;" and without waiting for a reply he was gone.

* * * * *

Alone, Ralph Wonderson sat upon a rock and reflected that no food had
passed his lips since that hurried breakfast in the Fahrjoch Hut.
Wearily he drew out a packet of sandwiches from his pocket.

A moment later he was racing back to his former companions. In his day
he had been half-mile champion, but now he knocked a full minute off his
previous best time.

He found the others as he had left them. Lady Margaret looked up with a
glad cry as he flew round the corner.

"Madge," he cried, waving the piece of newspaper which had been wrapped
round his sandwiches,--"Madge, you _can't_ marry him!"

Lord Tamerton leaped forward with a white face. "What do you mean?" he
hissed. "You are mad. She _must_ marry him, or the family is ruined."

"She _can't_ marry him," repeated Ralph calmly. "Sir Ernest Scrivener
_alias_ Marmaduke Moorsdyke is married already! Read this."

And he thrust the fragment of newspaper into Lord Tamerton's hand.

With a low cry of content Lady Margaret fell into her lover's arms. "Oh,
my dear!" she murmured.

And as they stood clasped in a close embrace the clouds parted and far,
far above them appeared the beautiful white summit of the Wetterhorn
shining dazzlingly in the sunlight.

* * * * *

Illustration: "BUSINESS AS USUAL DURING ALTERATIONS."

* *