OVER THE SHEER.

Oamaru Mail, Volume XL, Issue 12538, 8 May 1915, Page 1 (Supplement)

OVER THE SHEER.

(By Edwin Baliner.;

| t was noon in the northern Kockies , lt ;, clear, cold day. will) Kamuron, !'l„. \iianl peak which commands tin 1 .. v ,!iii:el pa.-s to the Pacific, raising its iVzzling. .-now-sheathed summit into a .-1-iri" and azure sky. From below the ""■vat -!:'< ier. surrounding the bare tt'i'n'l;- "' L ''<■'' mountain, spurted a blue •ovivmi o! melted snow which sprayed 'law 11 the wild, rocky gulloy past- the '.[l'l'l.'i in the valley:-the bright yellow-Ip-i'ii- of budding loaves .shone on the L'sln- below the dark boughs of the ,(.l;]iiiie>: so there was warmth in the li'n, hut there was bite and irost in a lo 'niinl. Though it was late in theion 11» "•' a >'i i,m ' c ' lo <-kalet above 1|,., railroad had been open for more lii-in i' week, it was too crisp outdoors _,,'. niu-t of the guests —American, JingL'li iir Canadian tourists lately landed , .Seattle or Vancouver from Asia, b'tf" :tllt ' lnt ' I'kih'ppincs—and others. I -j tin"' for a day or two on their way [in' the morning was just right for i1, 0 <,. there for mountaineering; it was ,-'t i(io cold lor hard climbing, and the 'hill miule it certain that tile snow f'jdrr.-.s over tlie crevasses in the glacier -ouUi remain safe and the. surface of I'll .'higher, sloping neves stay firm. So Senator 'Wythe and his party, '•itli'a guide, nore making the ascent „,-'K:inluroii. '■■Tli,'\'vr climbed to the ledge! rpjipv 'ii- approaching tin? 'sheer.' Thev'iv ''( -ting before . crossing the ijn,-.'." .Someone who had been (rarolii'ig oui-ide. at noon gave the r-nrniii-' thiv.ugh the sun-rooms and tlie ff'irmed lounges 0.-' the chalet. The P if>is. seizing capes and coats and Jrc'iring at rhe adjustments of iieldout to the wide ob-ij-ryatioii verandah facing the east-slope '"..- jiainiu'on and stood in the sunshine to follow tlie course of the four figures riiic the most difficult and dangermis .stretch of their climb. Far above 'i' learning, green-white slope- of the •iaoiri'- still higher than the hare, ;[f P p reaches of purple rock, tlie four Ivminir specks —which were three men ||'i ;l "(virl—-bowed black and distinct 'r T iin'-t ihe snow'below the summit, i'ikiving left the hotel at dawn, they ! ;--id rliin'betl unseen until at ten o'clock, r iCtlic latest of the guests at the chalet [fv-iv coming out from breakfast; the. iVnir t'mi""i-> appeared against the brown the irop line. -"While, the i-linilji'i- crept higher and higher up t(: C sti'-i'p -lope, the tourists at the chalet I'-'tl stood entranced, watching them. Then, except for a few more' xJnopi'Jied. [lie watchers; went back to thf sini-rooms and lounges to warm {feenisolvps till the four on the moun\'.{u --lionld complete the easier rock «Vf-nt :111( ' eome to the dangerous, vvc-tsc'ihii' "sheer." "'TIiN 1V;1S :i " absolutely straight up-jyid-doivn "all oi smooth rock —sheer \ !f ?\ the glacier almost to the summit—,l'j),-> travel s.(j only by means of the ■■';,-.-|.v,. " a narrow, shallow crack in ili> rni'k offering an inch or two of I,'olrf 'for'the iocs of boots, with mi. tm a more pn carious - the lillger-tips. Tt w::> ill rjiia .-ight from the chalet: and so IfaiaiaT rar'> was the air that the tele,'m.vl mi the hotel verandah showed -tvn die rope- riiiiiiiiiur from one elimb- ,- in another: field-glasses showed ivi'il the Swiss guide, distinct from e'- -Viort. broad tigure : M"argaret Alden a ,"i,..«; .-he was in sensible moiui■iinpei'inir costume, knicker, bookers ritlinut -kii't- and with woollen pnt- ■=!>. like the no n ; but her slighter fi<riTPiind tam-o'-shanter made her easily . lH oiilceil. the telescopes could im o'l'taii.lv distinguish the next- two: iU[ pvri'viiiie knew who they were and airlwt order they must be roped. Tlie ton! liuiive. therefore, was Stephen ]iv"il. "her eji-lliood lover. 5 ' as somecfi'at tie- olialet had epitomised him. J,> ivat inexperienced in 'niountaineern,T and therefore would be roped with •hjVirl between the professional guide mil The amateur- expert. Voting fiena-

ior Wythe—there was no need for anyina to designate him, and besides no jjn,-. could do it in a phrase—according was ,n Uk- end of the rope. [ The girl's arm was waving and AVythe jKBKTto be holding glasses, looking jora.it tlie hotel: then lie gave some ton of .a signal, and the guide, with to'Ji arms stretched high above his tad io t-aicji the tiny crevasse for his hiri-wips. worked out upon the ledge fed edged* inrihei- and farther to the lit and over the sheer; the girl folIffed, her shorter arms stretched their tidiest- to catch the crack : then Gregg [Seined himself anainst the- smooth |ck and worked oh after her; Wythe Ellowed and all four were upon the Ida;?. One moment, another, and then [third threescore of throbbing heartfeats, and the four figures halted: they feed jb again, the leader moving first p stopping, the second following, ten the last two creeping after them Irefullv. a few inches at a time. But I List.' with a loud, wghing outbreath ■ relief, the crowd before the chalet

ivr the stride step from the ledge to ifety: the girl was beside him an inant later-, then the second man and pally Wythe stood on the safe rock.

[The people before the hotel burst inj cheers; they clapped hands, waved fe and handkerchiefs. Margaret Alius fiiother staggered to a seat and teed ier eyes, 'trembling: the girl's jjhw, smiliiig sickly, wiped the peroration from his forehead and palms Id received congrajillations. The man Ith the teHephoto camera, who had tapped Senator Wythe taking Miss Al|n across the shser —the first trarer.se fa ledge bv a woman in that season — pd his tripod with satisfaction. And Imhelow tlie chalet lhe loud blast of locomotive whistle- added its tribute I the west hound Transcontinental, |ic-h had delavr-d to let the passengers |w the event.' puffed on down the pass I the Pacific. '

|Jhe four mountain climbers, just off je If-dge, B-.--re lingering on the safe sk, ro-ostimatlijg one another. The Bor. which for u moment had forjfcvn the girl's cheek, flushed_ back Bdilr. and her lilue eyes shone in her giuiiS appreciation as she now dared Raze dnv.ii the- terrible "sheer'' and |kacro=s the crack by 'which she had

Wasn't- that simr>]v line!"' ehe cried. )tiUivf-ly. ••Horace, wasn't that — jpinct-nt:" *muor Horace Wythe, busy with Pins the rope from his waist, nodI with die indulgence to be allowed pun* man who had conquered the fterhorn, the .Tungfrau e.nd Mont

Pl.i.;iiificr-in in-catise it was with [: Margaret: Hut.'" he qualified, j jt real mountaineering." I |c was a vigorous, fine figure of r j I Gt a year or two over thirty c.VifL ; r fl yct physical condition. Sid-'; by '. ■ ■P'ith another of the- same heia.iit j [breadth 01 shoulders —such as Ste- j p /aiv-j;— Wvthe inevitably bore I p'f s«- th.it one thought of "him a ; ! ftaller. the more powerful and do- | lt ; n ?-, He towered over Gregg now / |p finished untving the royie •. lie toss-/ [no end deitlv to the stii'dc. fnarid SU. Ctcrrg won't ne-xl tc b/ ? I"!'-" lie -aid to the Swis-. "Its: je easy above here, f understand.'' |f compact, efficient lis tie man B'u the vop,-» me] and glnn-fd f.'\or>> i«c-toil-„- other quickly. •'No. ni;v r .- W- '. 1 V " | 11 not require anyone try V) 0 id nil the retmn here." _ ; IN? 0 . ;is the Swiss lo.oeed C,\;~- Z .r stood a Vim.- with; the ► attached: he seerr.ee. <i ,■ little ffl as he looked back and doivr, -,-. nd I hands rlenched and hen Bon mean wo've got- to do: down I way. tor,:-" }i<- ac-kr,] the gmide. Si' 1 -Mvn, nodded. -'lt is th-'e oniv K. mniisionr."

poodn o .i:- ; eseanod Menken Gregg. :ytHp saw . d , IC . [-jj,-!-, cunousviv . the ,ioo. danced toward him. (hen adback to Wythe. t*f-/ monnwineeriiicr:" -sl/ie ehalH-- "'Sox- the ledge? Isfc't «?rossjnar .real mountaineering?"' she ap(Pd. :'

nieaiu there's nothinsr rfeallv diffiii about ii, .Uar.saivt. Tt\<; danger--31 course, jf von slip '-" aiiSf-rons!" thrilled. "A "f-'-e is death!" ' ', lit no more surely thft*» fl slip in places where ffoe • woes (ivory x iinnie—i n f ront of traffic, for Jnnir .'°."- merely pftt to keep w steady here as you iVould crossH n lo, "° n street, oar; that—and a > remured. So fair to call "■il mountaineering /,eve;? . hero.

! And above there's nothing. I'll look alter Miss Alden, now, Breuil, if you'll be responsible lor Mr Gregg." lie charged 1)10 guide. "Shan't we go mi.-" Hi> offered liis hand to help Margaret over nine loos,' rock: there was ;i elinib of a lew hundred yards yet to the summit : but i.oiv snow covered everything; and the snow was in good condition. A party of men who had ascended only flie day before had cut steps in the crust where the slope was too steep. Wythe led -Margaret easily up tlie.se. "Von will go on now, monsieur?"'' Breuil said to his charge courteously. Gregg, recalling himself from his gaze down to the glacier, glanced up and saw the other two climbing together far overhead; his eyes gleamed and his lips suddenly shut very tight.

"Ves ; I'll go on." "All right down there with MiGregg, Breuil?" the voice of Wythe hailed down.

The Swiss, as he replied, noted that the first impulse of his companion had been to run up the slope as the hail came; but then the young man governed himself. Breuil observed that he climbed easily and well within hisstrength; but he made no effort to overtake the two in advance, though they often rested. They were still ahead when, at one o'clock, the people at the chalet each other's attention to the fact that Margaret Alden and the Senator were standing on the .summit and signalling that they safe. Gregg and the guide were the dark spots plainly in sight below. Wythe's and Gregg's figures wore still indistinguishable, of course, but everyone knew which would be with the girf, if one was alone with

Stephen Gregg, as he looked down toward the hotel and saw the crowd replying to the signals from the summit, realised this. Since his arrival in the

mountains, the day before, he had recognised that the other guests at the ■h'alet Wi-vi- familiar with the cause of his coming and that the outcome of his contest with "Wythe was, to their

minds, a foregone conclusion. He appreciated that, in coming to the mountains, he was meeting his rival on Wvthc's own grounds; but he had to meet Wythe there or "not at all until Margaret would be irretrievably lost. Besides, almost anywhere he might

meet- w\vthe, it would be more or less the Senator's ground. Horace Wythe "had it on him" anywhere. Wythe not only was the youngest senator ever elected from his State; already he was being spoken of as a future presidential possibility. He was popular, handsome, with reputation as a sportsman. Stephen Gregg would claim for himself that lie was as young; he was considered good-looking", likable, and not unsuccessful as a lawyer. When, two years before, he had believed he would

>e able to provide for Margaret, and md asked Ikr to marry him, and she lad accepted him, Mrs Alden in alarm nstantly Took Margaret away to travel

and meet a different sort of man. 'Phis, at first, seemed to promise the usual result.. Margaret wrote him daily of lict determination to let nothing take

her from him. The Aldens were coming home at last from a trip to Japan when they met young Senator Wythe at Kioto. He was returning from the Philippines and crossed with them one the same boat to America. Margaret told, m her last letter from Kobe, about meeting the great young Senator Wythe. She was coming home to Stephen so soon that she would pass anv later lolU r: she was coming home to ma; iv him and never let anyone take her awa'v again. Then, from A'ancoii-vi-r. came the tkst merely friendly and puzzling and alarming note. She thankeo him for his tlowers which met her on her lauding: tliey were so beautiful. But they weren't to hurry home alter all: and'she said no more about marrying. Another letter came from Vancouver —a panicky. jerky. cou-scioiis-siricken one. .Next, she and her mother and lather and Horace—that is, Senator Wytln—were staying for a week or two in the Hookies to rest. They might climb a little: it was the mountaineering season, you know. She wished she could see Stephen. She could talk over with him something which was troubling her: she couldn't.

say it fairly if she wrote it. He wired' her that he was coming at once: she replied not to come. He arrived, and when he found her, troubled and ashamed as much as she was flattered bv the notice and popularity which Wythe's attentions brought to her, Stephen was sorry for her. She wished, whatever happened, that Wythe and he should be friends. -She insisted that he go with them for their day on the mountain. Wythe, plainly, •■.«.-• planned that expedition to give Stephen his conge; he recognised that-Margaret was agreeing with Wythe about' what she would do as she. went aiie;\d with Wythe from the ledge. „ , At the summit. Stephen tcirnd them waiting for him there on a siyiall. snowcrusted plateau. A slab of bare rock protruded to make a windbreak in the Ice of which Breuil lit the alcohol lamp from the lunch kit and m.'ide tea. The party ate together sik-ct'iy or with formal'remarks; but- at last—Stephen iiad been awaiting the aev, for some moments —Wythe rose wi t h elaborate carelessness. /

, ••Breuil. let's hr(ve a look at the northern arete." And he led the guide

Stephen, who also had .arisen, stood gazing nl'ter thei:,, till the crags, and spurs of rock shut l hem from sight. He looked down tlurit, with hotly beating heart, at -Ylnrgaret, who had remained seated r,n the boulder, her slim leas stretched before her and her head bent; she sho'Ved to him only her sottbrown hair under her woollen cap; she hiding her i':/,r-c. In spite of what ho knew was or perhaps because be knew iW-Stephen felt his. arms straining w\th their impulse to pick her up to hold/ her and bug her to him and press his l', Bi xo her cheek. Once, long beiore. When lie was just out ol college ami/she was n little, reck ess. girl of" fitWn '-he had taken Jtoiekerbockers/ :I ml a iacket of her brother s and climbed to the roof of the barn, from v,hifii h.ephcn had had to rescue her aiid carrv her down in his arms. The 'miokerboekors on the- slim, youthful jUs ' brought back that first day poiK'/iantlv and "her proud delight when the U : u" morning Vie—a big boy, so muc/h older—came, a little flushed and contused, to inquire for her. Sfhe too, must have been thinking of son'iWhing like that, for her bare hand wa/, "shaking as she raised it -and her lon.g lashes wore wet .is at last she looked' ui> at him. , ~ (••Sit down, please, Stephen,. f J e --ink to a boulder beside her, They W.-'r, no longer in sight of the tele-•:<-or.es at the hotel nor of anyone below. 7i\e =.-un was shining, warm and clear; ■Vv." ah- was cool, but the rock slabs \ v . • off the breeze. Since Wythe and rhe Swiss had gone out of, hearing, wuh no sound except the- slip of • > bit of sliding snow or the rattle of a ;',•.,■!■- falling down the mountain; the "wo" were alone upon the summit surrounded, tar away in every direction or.lv bv other silent, snow-covered peaks and nmnaples of rock. " -Stephen." she appealed, repeating his name gently pgflia, "you see how it is with me?" . ~ "I'see how it is. Margaret, (> ••And vou want me to be free:' ■-To inarrv him, if you wish to. Yes;'of course; you knew that. -I knew -that," she said. Then, Stephen, you—you want me to man\ him, don't you?" "I want vou to—" he started to repeat" "That's rather a different question, little Meg." "What?" , . .. , -Wanting yon to be tree, if you ask that, and wanting you to marry Horace. AYvthe. Freeing yon from any obligation to marrv mo—that's the only thing, to do if vou don't love mo now. ••Oh. don't put it so " "Pla'inlv dear Exo.use. me. It s the old fmbit; ' I meant to say Meg." ••Steve, you make it so hard!'■ '-•Dearie,' I didn't mean to." "Thank you-: now please, don t change that;' £et that last," Ji (jf course, if you wish. Hut, Margaoret, I don't understand." ' "What?" "How you can still want me to—well, to be fit least n iit-tjo the same with yon and yet you want to marry him."

'•'l can't understand that quite, either. Stephen. That is, I can't quite explain it; but it's so. That's why T had to set- you, dear. I never thought it possible, until, a few weeks ago, that a moment like this ffHtld ever come into hit life •*- a moment when I

I wouldn't want you. you. you. Stephen, just you!" '"But. it's come, Margaret.'' "Yes, it's come. Steve! I must tell you the truth. But I must'tell you so 1 won't, hurt you more than I mustIt's not from less love for you that it'scoine: but —but " "Because of-more love for him?'"'' "No. not exactly that, either. Not more, love for him, Stephen—how could I Jove anyone more than you —but more admiration.''' "Admiration?" "Oh, my old dear- hoy, it is too awful of me? Did 1 hurt you too much? Didn't you see that part of it before?" "That yon couldn't be proud of me like you could of him? Of course, I realised that." "And you wouldn't have me —it wouldn't be right for nie to marry you, feeling more admiration for him, would it, Steve?" His face flushed red and then went very white and he looked past her onto the mountain peaks to the west; the shadows of clouds were passing' over their summits and then the sun

burst upon the snow again and the moving shadow and alternate light caught Stephen's eye and he followed the clouds from mountain to mountain.

"Would it he right, Stephen?" she repeated. "I was thinking about what you asked me," ho replied. "That was why I couldn't answer." Ho did not look' at her; he still watched the wonder of the sun flashing over the snow of the other mountains. As they sat. the supporting slopes of Kamuron below them could not. be seen ; they seemed raised on a. little rocky platform to the clouds, alone. "Why couldn't you answer?"

"This isn't the sort of place for one to say the only right thing for the circumstances. Wait until we get back to the hotel, anyway, Meg; then I'll congratulate you and him like a gentleman." "Stephen, you mean "

"Don't make me say anything more here. Look at that cloud and the mountain top, Meg. At home or down there is the chalet off in a corner by ourselves with the- tea things—like a I'inero play— l could have said just what I sliould. T give way to a better man. He will make you happier than F could.' "

"But you don't believe it!"

"Believe he's a better man than I? Oh, yes, I'll grant that." "Then wouldn't I be happier with him?"

"How do 1 know I could make von happy at .all ? I only know I'd try — Oh. my God., if I had the chance, I'd try to make you happy. But he " ''He —what, Stephen ?"

He looked away again and paled and held his lips tight; then he turned back to her.

"I've started this. Meg." he said quietly. "I'll see it through. Forgive me afterward, if you can. There are thousands- of men more successful than myself who might love you and win your love and admiration, too, and who —I hope I would tell you myself —are better men than I in every way: and if you wanted one of them, I'd tell you to go to him. and be happy. _ But you can't make me send you to Wythe with that.

"For there are two different ways in which a man may win success and fame and honor in this world—and a wife. One is by doing things oneself and taking the reward which belongs to one.. That's the .slower way, usually, and also the less spectacular: but even if it never wins much, it's the way. 1. believe, to make a wife happy. The other w;tT gets a man a great deal very quickly;'and I guess it's got you for Wythe, too. In that way, a man, besid'es doing his own bit. simply has to see that he gets the credit and reward of things other people dr, which they can't or don't claim. It's, entirely honest Meg. as the world goes: there's no law' against it and it's not punishable. One isn't at all likely to be caught at it. It's so subtle that sometimes vou can Kearney see it when it s being done before you or to you; and he fet.s to doing it quite unconsciously: but he's doiv,<v it all the time just the same." . Stephen -aw her draw away as her anger rose. ••Vou mean Horace does that? Name one time," she demanded-, "or one instance."

, "He's doing it to-day." .■■To-day? Where?" •■Here." "How?" . "In netting von to climb up here with hiin and in making you. wit-hou*: any experience, run the riskdown there on the sheer.'' "How does that- help him.-"

"Bv keeping him before the pub! l ;- just 'now. The papers, as even you must know, are criticising him ior his reports on his Philippine trip; Iks friends- are disappointed. Something per-onallv sn-oetacuhu—as when he climbed. ' the" Mat.terhorn—would be belnful nolitically just now. >amuvon with the sheer right in sight or the'hotel is a most spectacular mountain but' climbing it himselt would b? nothing: it's been ascended scores ot times- and once or twice already tin., season; but taking a girl over the shoei is different-: it's seldom been done and not at all this year. That would make an event- to be photographed, the moving-oieture man wou.d be waitino- for you at the return to tne bote So°he takes- you; and you run the risk -and oh, it was a devilish risk: for a crirl without experience and with toilers hardlv able to touch the top c raok. And vou get nothing out ol it, because vou want nothing. But he wins fame for the risk he makes you run. "I was afraid down there, Margaret, I'll admit it. It was scared hall to death. But I was angry, too, that he'd take vou there and use you But she'was on her feet and looking down at him with blazng eyes -Stephen !" she cried. "T con dn't have imagined von'd trump tip such a thing I couldn't- have pictured you so petty But at least you've relieved me about what 1 ought'to do." , Sh- snun from him and faced in the direction of the northern arete, where Wvthe and the guide had gone. "Horace!" she called. "AM.ere are you 0 Aren't vou ever coming back. ' -v'half replied from somewhere down the snow slope. Stephen Gregg rose otiietly and stood alone looking amthe nmuntains, Wythe and b appeared, the Sw.ss glancing up tow-ud the darker cloud which was drifting to- ] ward Knmuron fiom the west. A sleet of rain fell from »t, the drops splattering, upon tho -now «nj>rtn„t n.id wetting the exposed rock. ce formed immediately, and Breud as- he observed this, stooped and Angered the reek Th ■ shower was past and no other threatened; .indeed, the sun « shining in a-few moments and melting the new ice from the exposed sttrtaee-s , but in the shadow, the th:n. slipper fin remained; and the Swiss glance down the eastern side of the ™untau as he preipa.red for the start of ttu descent- the steeper rocks and the sheer were in the shndo-v. . Bveuil uncoiled the climbing rope. "On account of the ice. we had better rone now." he Wre-ted attaching the cord first to Margarets be:t. He roped Wvthe with her and, then tied Gregg at the end. He himsel took the other end of the rone beyond Ma>-

made n mistake," Wythe started to loose himself, "No, monsi-eur." "T am not- at the end-. "It is as I wish; it, monsieur. ' "I am not at the end!" -VWthe re-

P< The Swiss gazed down the slope to bo descended. "We must be onick -he ur ß ed. "The descent ™" ent from the coming up. Theie tic motioned toward t,he «™st require more than fare. I desne, a. that Doint. that he have the other end of tV.Vope." Brpml pomtodto wTthe dropped the rone from him"What is the matter with vou.Breu:!?. Mr Gr&<r«: has never climbed. "He climbed coming up here., monSl wVthe controlled himself while he explained patiently; he had climbed the Jungf.an.-the Monob. the Matterhom. Brenil had heard; a so he had been :■ miide on the Matte-hern : ho had lived most of his life at Zor-itt: «o bo knew that o;°od Kiude-v oould push and mill anvone in and down even the Matterhorn This was in voplv to some sarcasm from the other side, and mucli acrimony. ' ~' Indeed. Brett il himself, with anothe, mtide, actually had ; brought down an i unconscious man fronv close to the sum-

. ' mit of the Matterhorii. . Breuil here was iu charge of the party; he would bring down the party with, least risk. . or the others would descend without him. He had observed both gentlemen earefullv. Monsieur Gregg was not ex- • pert, but he knew it. At the ledge —the traverse was almost horizontal— Breuil would lead: monsieur the senator would be roped next, as his weight was the greatest, and. if he slipped, Brueil would be in a position to aid him. .Mademoiselle would inflow ; Monsieur Grogs would take the end of the rope: other wi.se ail would spend the night on the mountain without food or shelter. And monsieur would decide at once. Breuil glanced at the sun and took out his watch. Down in the valley, tho people at the hotel! were beginning to do the same thing. ■ "What can be the matter up therer they questioned the qnes-with fieldglasses. '■Whatever it is. .it's over now, a man at the telescope assured. "See them moving. They're roped again right from the summit. The rain must have made ice and the snow slope* are slippery." ~ "They've changed order a bit too, another called attention. "Breuil is still leading, but that fellow Gregg is next to him instead of Miss Alden. Then she comes. The Senator's at the other end of the rope, of course. See them! - Bv George, there must be ice over everything up there! See them slip! Bv George", it is bad up there! Get r-vei-vbodv out! Tell' everyone they're coining down! They're coming down fast, too; they'll be, at the sheer again in. a minute!" "The veranda of the chalet blackened. The four on the mountain, just coming again to the sheer, could see thecrowds nouring from the doors out into the open the better to witness tneir danger. - They could separate the lines of men and women waiting for titer turns at the telescopes the closer to follow the precise manner in which the mountain party would pass this pe.nl again, or, if they faltered, drop to death. Margaret gazed down as Breuil went ahead alone to explore the condition ofthe ledge, and -she shivered in spite of herself. , „ T . "Don't look down, dear," Wythe bade her heavily. .. "It isn't that I'm looking down; -ts because they're looking up! Its like —it's as though we wore being operated on in a clinic. You've seen these pictures—the subject being treated while rows and rows students look on and see von suffer." The, ice-film over the rocks-, upon which all had slipped a little, on the ordinarilv easv descent to the ledge, . alreadv ' was working its changes. Breuil'had forced Wythe to .rope second . in order for the descent, and since Ste- , phen without protest, had therefore accepted the fourth position, neither Margaret nor Wvthe had spoken to binr" They had not directly refused to; : thev had' simply refrained from ex- ■ chann-iw comment with him : he had recognised this and offered none. . The S\vis=; finished his exploration , and returned. . i ••Everyone must do just as I say ana . move when 1 direct and also stop at . once. We are ready?"' "Ready, Margaret?" sard the Se.ua- ■

°''' Yes; ready. Stephen?" she passei the word back. "Iteadv." Breuil' moved slowly and carefull' out ever the sheer; he stopped com manded Wythe to follow him ; he haltec Wythe, . oveel a little further himseli then ordered Wythe farther out '•Mademoiselle!" The Swiss -ha-d th rope taut between himself an' Wvihe. "-Move as she advances ovei the Breull railed .to trregg "Keep the rope tight between you! Stephen stepped slowly Twentv feet ahead of him, at the fill length of the line between them. Mar. saret edged her away over the sheer, her slim arms straining high for tne fa-t hold in the icy crack above hfii her" her small boots sliding along in the slin'perv fissure lower '•Reit'" -Breuil eried. He guides Wythe's advance then till the slack was taken between Wythe and the girl. The Swiss- himself advanced to keep thi hope taut between himseli arid Wythe. '•Come now again, mademoiselle. That i« we'd. Halt"! lte-t again! With lier face to the rock to wlnon she clung onlv by finger and toe tips, Margaret now was motionless; twenty i'eet farther on Wythe likewise clungand still farther ahead Breuil braced himself. "Now, monsieur: , Gregg, stepping from the sate rook, thrust a toe into the lower crack ; w it.i his arms he reached high and bus tinkers found tlie fissure overhead Far down in the valley below the hotel the crowd gasped. 'They're all on the ledge now. They're all over the sheer! . . . . • • liv George, it must be bad. Look at the wav thev move Or don't move Yes; a.hvav« one at a time. . . ■ There; they're farther out . les Sav- what was that.' A slip. ' ' No • "she's caught hold again. '. she'did. .'. • I don't mean her mean the duffer ahead .... Oh ; that fellow! I see! I see! . . . My God. Good God! ... • He's going. . . . • • That second fellow-Gregg Vou see. He's—and he'll. • ■ - • Good God! Oh. {rood God! Look at that',.. . . . Look Mt that .... The guide. . . . Can h'_ ' . Ob. Lord! Look at that! . . . Oh! Oh! Oh! . . ■ ' : "While the four on the mountain were over the centre of the sheer, the second -1 mber had made a false step; struggling wildlv in panic to save him.set. he had shooed from the crack oi the rde'e and fallen. As he fell, h,s strug\nl, weight on the rope dragged fir.,l uid almost instantly, upon the belt el •he guide, leading the party. Bre.nl nstahtanoously prepared lor nieeting he shook dug toes and fingers far into he cracks and distnbutod h-s weight ipon all holds as evenly as he could ie managed to hold, there ore, aga n-t he first terrific attack ot the falling nan; he seemed, even to shout some yarning to the girl, roped on the other side of the falling man,, to spur her t.. such strength as she might exert; but : .he barest fraction of a second after the ■ Hide had supported the shock ol tie a it tore at the 'girl-the dropping vei-rht of a. man. Her finger-holds ... she little .'cv crack overhead at once ,ave wav-this could be plain y seen trough'the telescopes iiv she fell backyard—her feet jerked horn the fissu y elow and she fell also. Then while hose in the valley stored up, unhreath- „.« and gaping, followed almost mstan;aneousrv the next two acts. The first of these was the deed ol 3reuil. the Swiss guide from Zermatt. He. had" managed to support, by >xerting all his skill and Strength, the y eight of the man falling; he also was ,ble to take the first shock of the gu 1 mmediately afterwards. for during some part of an instant, the drop • t joth.the man and kL' thev hung suspended by the i ope ivw the sheer; but, though Breuil was ihle thus to break their fall, he was -lot placed to be able to maintain him -elf with, the .weight of the two dragrino- on him. He had been the one vho was advancing when the disasterstarted; the second man. who started Jie fall, had been supposed to be in position to aid Breul. if necessary-. The nvido's position on the ledge had been "he most difficult of all; and, m holding io-ainst the fall of the man and. then Cresting the fall of the girl too i-e lad done all that he could. One hand —the watchers through: the telescopes •cmhl see "it plainly—lost its hold in he crack and could not regain it; one : oot slipped and could not find firm sup>ort in the lower fissure again. Breuil, balanced over the abyss, maintained limself somehow for yet another breath; he turned and shouted somebhino- to the man at the other end oi he "-ope, who also still was holding x> the ledge. The guide s liana, jriiieh could not regain its grasp jn Dhe rock, went to his bet: it held something which flashed: then Breuil flipped from the ledtre; his body turned md hurtled down, fell past the others, md dropped on alone, turning over is it -struck in gainst the side of the sheer and, falling faster and faster as t tumbled, dropped out of sight. For :he Swiss .having held as long as he lould and long enough to take the first shock of the fall of the other two, had nit- himself away as he dropped to spare he man at the other end of the rope, cho now clung; along to the ledge and sas the sole support of the two who irst had fallen. . , And-that third man having a beter position, stall held. With the

guide gone, the girl and the other man hung on the rope below him. They swung back and forth against the face of the sheer, like a- great, double pendulum, from him. Flattened againstthe rock above the ledge, with hands land feet straining at his chueh in the j crack, alone he held the two dangling jon the rope below. "Oh! Breuil! The guide! You saw that! Good God, you saw that! He cut himself away! When he couldn't do any more he cut himself away to save them!" The wonder of thai, was beginning to be. tongued through the throng below. "The guide! As he fell, he cut himself away!

"And the other is still holding! Wythe. Oh. look at him! -Wythe! Hurrah! Hurrah, Wythe! Hold; hold, old fellow! Good God, look at him! Look at the fight he's making! He's still holding both of them alone! Good God, see him! Help him! Wythe! Oh, Wythe! Wythe!" But the fourth figure—the one alone, on the ledge, known as the "anchorage"—a wider space in the rock fissure offering good grasps for hands and good position for boots. At the first slip and struggle of Wythe, he had braced himself keeping the rope taut between himself and Margaret. He had called to her to try to relieve her fright as she saw Wythe falling; then Wythe's shout for help and her shriek, as she was pulled down, rang together in his ears. At the same instant came the terrible jerk of the fall on the rope about his belt. He bore it. though he slipped and slipped, spent all his strength—it seemed —merely preventing himself from slipping farther; then, in a spasm of desperation, he regained an inch; of his grasp in the crackabove his head and bettered, too. hh hold with his boots.

During this moment, while, he held himself flattened against the rock, he had not dared to look round. He could' hear W r ythe shouting ceaselessly, senselessly somewhere 'below; he realised, too. as the struggles on the j'ope tore and tore at his holds, that W r ythe was the one in panic. Breuil's sharp command to Wythe to cease this confirmed it. After the first spasmodic shriek as < Margaret fell, Stephen had heard no sound from her; she was on the rope, but whether she had' been knocked senseless or had fainted, he did not know. He tried to call to her before he found he was unable to; he had no breath. Then the last call came from the guide. "Hold! Hands and feet!"

Stephen turned his head and saw ,hat BreuH. too, «-n» toppling. He w the Swiss pulled from his holds ind try to regain them and 1 fail; Vie iaw Breuil-'s knife. The guide held :t a one hand while he struggled; he ;ta.bbed with it to try to catch it in i tinv crack: it slipped out and Breuil jegan to fall. But the Swiss was cool o the last; as ho felt himself going he slashed in front of him the ■ope. He went down and Stephen feit ■■he purl and swing of the pendulum ... he other two below him. As lie pressed igainst the rock, in spite of no will to lo so. he stared down under one arm aid' saw Breuil's body turning over and >ver as it fell ; then it struck snrae;hing and glanced away out of sjight. Whatever now might be done, Stolen knew he alone must do; and there ,vas onlv one possible way of saving ;ho J others. For a few minutes, per,apS —particularly if Wythe would stor> lis useless struggling—Stephen might ,iold the two on the rope if he mainlined himself at the "anchorage." gut help from the hotel—ho knew the rfisasler must be seen from the hotel — ould not possibly reach him in three nours. There 'was absolutely nr -banco that lie could hold the two on the rope for anything like that time; ?aeh second was capping his strengtn tvith alarming swiftness: be felt a dullness already 'coming over his arms straining above his head and a numbness in the muscles of his legs whicn :iismaved him. The sole chance tor Margaret and the man on the rope below her was- for Steuben to work his wav back the fifty feet to the slope at the end of the sheer. Could he. accomplish tliat alone on the ledge with the terrible weight of the two tugging heavier and heavier each second? It was wild, insane, to think that ho might succeed.; but it was absolutory the onlv chance for the others. And as the nlan flashed over him, the very madness"of it warmed him a little and seemed to make his straining arms and legs less numb. Also it gave him breath. "Margaret," he called down under his arm to her. "T'll try to get backto the slone." "Yes," she replied. He knew sinwas conscious then, and without panic. "Don't trv to move. For God's sake don't trv to do anything!" Wythe twenty feet below her, bawled. "They d get help here. They must send help. Stephen had no strength to waste in answer. He was trying the desperate experiment of shifting one hand a little to'the loft; he-ucceodod. without slipping, in moving thus a few inches;_ h< succeeded in moving one foot as tar; he got the other hand along; then the other foot. He had gained, without loss of too much strength, eight inches of the fifty feet back to the slope. He gained four or five inches mor .ewitn his breath whistling as he sucked it in; the sweat on his forehead steamed against the ice film on the rock at his. face. With twice the effort which won him the first eight inches, he gained now a hand's breadth. And his back was cracking; suddenly all the strain which had first numbed his arms and legs came on his back and he bulged a. little farther from the rock. The betrayal of weakening, which this was. drove him to despair when he tried to straighten again and could not. He had struggled hardly a foot of the fifty he would have to make and already he was falling; and he still was at" the "anchorage"—the one easier spot upon the sheer. Should he succeed in gaining a foot or two more the. crack would be smaller and more difficult for fingers and feet. He ceased struggling to rest himself; but with the weight on the tope dragging him, there was no rest, simply a cessation of trying to move. Since he had spoken to Margaret and she had replied to him coolly, had heard no sound from her; but Wythe had been shouting to him almost constantly. At first Wythe continued imploring him not to move; now, as Wvthe realised that Gregg was attempting the only action that could jsave them, he prayed and urged Gregg

on. • "That's-so. Go on! \ou can make it!" he implored as Stephen halted. "Go on; youcan do it. Oh. don't stop-now ! Goon! Go on ! " His clamor for life arose again. Stephen heard it and put oft' for another moment the demand he was driving himself to make: he tried, to shift a hand further to the left, but. as he felt himself giving way as he did so, he grabbed for his old hold and clung there. He sucked hard for breath. "Wvthe, I can't go on! "You can! Of course, you can; you're all right!. You—" the awful clamor below replied. "Wythe. I can't move with you—both!' Wythe. I may manage her alone if yon " , ~ "No! No! You can carry us both. You're all -right. Oh. God. ; Gregg! You can go on; you must. . . .. The panic below made plain tnnu the demand was understood and was useless. The sacrifice of Breuil the guide, could mean nothing to Wythe at that moment; hanging at the end of the rone, he was crying for every instant left of his life. But if he remained on the rope, even he must see that all three must drop; asking mm to cut himself loose wzs asking him only to fall without pulling down the others. Margaret, hung between the «wn men understood that. The men, like the 'guide, carried knives: she had none. She could not have asked to have herself cut away without, of course, causing Wythe to fall with her. But that demand on Wythe now had been made. "Cut me away. Stephen!" she spoke to him calmly and sanelv. "Cut the rope!" she repeated. "I've no knife or I'd cut it mvself!'. "No! For God's sake! No! \oure all right. Gregg! You won'x—you won't " Down in the vallev, the people before the hotel wore standing transfixed unbreathing. A nartv of glides and two or three of the most skilful ama--1 teur mountaineers already had set off from the chalet on the ran. They bore Topes ;iti the pretence-that, so-nc- > haw they might be in time to help tH-

three over the sheer. But, as they ran t'hcv called one another noo itwhere 01V the glacier they should 'oof: for bodies fallen from the ledge. An-i after these guides were gone, tho crowd before the chalet forgot them; they knew that the fight,for life was ben:;; made before them. And as they boiit ; white faced and trembling and' lookod through the telescopes, now they sensed the manner of that fight.

"He's trying to work back off tlif sheer! Oh," God. he's trying to carry them both back along the ledge! . . . He can't do it! He's stopped now. . . See! See! .... Now he's going on! Xol He's trying to and he can't He can't. . . - Hr- could do it with that tiirl alone, 1 bet! . . . . Yes ff he had her alone, he'd make it' ' Look at that! Oh, look at that light he's making! Good God, he can t stand that much longer! But if that fellow cut himself off! .... Yes; like the guide did! .... Wythe could save that girl and himself! He wont cut her off! ... . No; hut the othe>' fellow! Win—oh. why won't he gp.it alone like the guide! .... Yes: and now—Oh, God, there they go now! . . . Look; they're falling! . . -They're falling! There thev go together! The three figures—the two hanging from the third over the sheer— suddenly were droi>oing. For tho first fitty feet, at least "thev kent the same positions as thev fell, one above the others, then, striking the side of the sheer the three dropped closer together; and as the> dropped faster and faster, the manner of the fall altered; the three figures struck some sloping slab protruding from the sheer and shot oft sideways, and dashed down toward the glacier and disappeared. -Y "rent crv arose from the crowd before the chalet as they witnessed this; hut the guides who had started for the "lacier shouted' excitedly to one another and ran faster as they saw the change ; in the character of the tall. 1< or instead now of being dashed to certain death straight down upon the glacier, the slab had deflected the three so as to hurl them on an angle over the s-nmv slopes above the ice. One oi the guides ran back to see that stretchers and. stimulants would be sent. And so. late in the afternoon, as the guides completed the detour to the base cr KamuroH and at last gained the glacier thev heard a man', voice calling weakly; and thev found a man with 'eg broken and with an arm useless, craw - "iii«f toward them. Thev recognised him and ran toward him with a shout of admiration; tor. t was Wvthe. their hero. . I hey picked him no and gave hmi wine ami Donhint tenderly, solicitously whispering ... him- their wonder at what they Had seen him do. , He oointed them to where lay the other two who had fallen with him. but thev were motionless and cold upon the snow. Wythe had worked over them; he had loosed the rope Imm them and tried to find life, but had failed. Breuil, he believed, also was dead farther back in a crevasse. So iir-t oi all. the guides bore Wvthe weak but coherent, back to tho chalet/ where people greeted him wit.i whispers and with, bared .heads, while the telegraph wires, bearing the new* of the' disaster, told' that Senator Wvthe who had made the marvellous fight for the lives of two companions and had chosen to he dragged .flown with them rather than save himself alone, had been brought back conscious and would live. ft was not till late that evening, after the bodv of Breuil was recovered and taken down to the chalet with tin forms of the other Iwo. that a physician found that only Breuil was doa., ; life remained in Margaret Alden and .11 Gregg.

And many weeks passed belore Stephen Gregg was allowed to see any other than "the nurse and- the doctor. Then came the morning when tt was told him without reservation, that he would be completely strong again. They sat him un in bed and. when the door of his room opened, a young girl, radiant with such love as even the loved one may seldom see. ran to his side and knelt and seized his hands- and kissed them. , "Margaret!" he cried to her an I. because he was- very weak, tears filled his eves. "They told me you were yourself asffin. Every .lay they told me so- but I didn't dream you could be like this. Oh, Margaret, you're never be so beautiful us now!" •'Because I never loved as now, Stephen! Oh, my own, boy, can you take me back with you?" -'Take vou back?'' , "Xo; not that. I'or 1 don t want to go back. I mean, wont you take me'on with you now, Stephen, with vou forever!" ' "Oh, Margaret! ou are sure \ou want that, dear? Vou would.it >ay thai to me if there was any doubt that

"'Stephen stooped as he felt, her shiver and she hid her face . -Oh Steuben, don't speak oi him Did—did thev tell you when be thought you and 1 were dead, as- well as Breui , that he let them say he did what \ou

■'Mv poor little girl!' Stephen pated hev ha.'r. "My poor little girl! " "Poor 0 " The word caught her up. :'How Stephen?" She caiidit him -n ,er arms and kissed him. "I have you tnd " , , r_„ -And I've got you. dearest. "And we're going to keep each othei 'orever!'-'