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He called to Delouvain who was examining the face of the rock-buttress up which they must ascend to its crest and said: "It looks as if we should do well to work out to the right I think." The rocks were difficult, but their difficulty was not fully appreciated by Walter Hine. Nor did he understand the danger. There were gullies in which new snow lay in a thin crust over hard ice.
They held him up, but he repeated his cry. "Leave me alone!" and the moment they let him go he sank down again upon the ledge. He was overcome with drowsiness, the slightest movement tortured him. Garratt Skinner looked up at the leaden sky. "We must wait till help comes," he said, Delouvain shook his head. "It will not come to-day. We shall all die here.
The thin edge of ice curving slightly downward, stretched away to the black rock-tower, in the bright sunlight a thing most beautiful, but most menacing and terrible. He seemed cut off by it from the world. They had a meal upon that level space, and while Hine rested, Pierre Delouvain cast off the rope and went ahead. He came back in a little while with a serious face.
But if he climbed down the ice-arête, the snow-slopes, and the rocks below, if the snow-bridges held upon the glacier, there would be life for one of the three. Pierre Delouvain had little in common with that loyal race of Alpine guides who hold it as their most sacred tradition not to return home without their patrons.
"Pierre Delouvain"; and so once again Chayne's fears were allayed. He turned to Sylvia. "A good name, sweetheart. I never climbed with him, but I know him by report. A prudent man, as prudent as he is skilful. He would run no risks." The name gave him indeed greater comfort than even his words expressed. Delouvain's mere presence would prevent the commission of any crime.
There was just one fact so far as Chayne could judge to discredit his inspiration the inconvenient presence of a guide. "Do you know a guide Delouvain, Michel?" "Indeed, yes! A good name, monsieur, and borne by a man worthy of it." "So I thought," said Chayne. "Pierre Delouvain," and Michel laughed scornfully and waved the name away. "Pierre! No, indeed!" he cried.
With the sun burning upon his face, and his feet freezing in the ice-steps, Walter Hine stood and moved, and stood again all through that afternoon. Fatigue gained upon him, and fear did not let him go. "If only I get off this mountain," he said to himself with heartfelt longing, "never again!" When near to the cliffs Pierre Delouvain stopped. In front of him the wall was plainly inaccessible.
Why, he would be asked? And the answer was ready. He had confused Pierre Delouvain with Joseph, his cousin, as no doubt many another man had done before. Did not Pierre live on that very confusion? The answer was not capable of refutation. Chayne was in despair.
It was evening before they came to the pastures, night before they reached Courmayeur. There Chayne found full confirmation of his fears. In spite of effort to dissuade them, Garratt Skinner, Walter Hine and Pierre Delouvain had started yesterday for the Brenva climb. They had taken porters with them as far as the sleeping-place upon the glacier rocks. The porters had returned.
"Monsieur, never engage Pierre Delouvain for your guide. I speak solemnly. Joseph yes, and whenever you can secure him. I thought you spoke of him. But Pierre, he is a cousin who lives upon Joseph's name, a worthless fellow, a drunkard. Monsieur, never trust yourself or any one whom you hold dear with Pierre Delouvain!" Chayne's last doubt was dispelled.
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