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Updated: May 18, 2025
Had it not been a question of good taste, to say nothing of human sentiment, I would have reminded him that the thing he was hitting so violently was only a little white ball and not poor Adrian's skull. If ever a man was loyal to a dead friend Jaffery Chayne was loyal to Adrian Boldero.
"What one knows, that one must do," she repeated, fixing the words in her mind, "if by doing it one can save a life. No, I shall not forget that." She rose from the seat. "I must go in." "Yes," cried Chayne, starting up. "You have stayed up too long as it is. You will be tired to-morrow." "Not till to-morrow evening," she said, with a laugh. She looked upward to the starlit sky.
"Our departure had almost the look of a flight." "Yes," said Chayne. For his part he was not surprised at their flight. He had passed more than one wakeful night during the last few months arguing and arguing again whether or no he should have disclosed to Sylvia the meaning of that softly opening door and the shadow on the ceiling as he read it.
Adrian asked politely, with the air of one seeking information. "Oh, shut up, you idiot," Jaffery turned on him savagely. "Can't you see the position I'm in?" "I'm very sorry you're angry, Jaff Chayne," said Liosha with a certain kind dignity. "But these are your friends. Their house is yours. Why should I not stay here with you?" "Here? Good God!" cried Jaffery.
You have spoken with her, monsieur, and thanked her for them?" "No," said Chayne, and there was much indifference in his voice. Women had, as yet, not played a great part in Chayne's life.
And three hundred yards beyond a second cry rang out. A guide was standing on the lower edge of a great crevasse with a hand upheld above his head. The searchers converged quickly upon him. Chayne hurried forward, plying the pick of his ax as never in his life had he plied it. Had the guide come upon the actual place where the accident took place, he asked himself?
Chayne led the way into the garden, and drawing a couple of chairs apart from the other visitors told her all that he knew and she did not. He explained the episode of the lighted window, solved for her the riddle of her father's friendship for Walter Hine, and showed her the reason for this expedition to the summit of Mont Blanc. She uttered one low cry of horror. "Murder!" she whispered.
"Don't do that!" cried her mother, irritably. Then she asked suddenly a question which startled her daughter. "Did you meet any one last night on the mountain, at the inn?" Sylvia's face colored, but the moonlight hid the change. "Yes," she said. "A man?" "Yes." "Who was it?" "A Captain Chayne. He was at the hotel all last week. It was his friend who was killed on the Glacier des Nantillons."
Sylvia had no curiosity as to that visit. She took no interest in it whatever, he noticed with a pang. "And then?" she asked slowly, as she crossed the hall with him to the door. "You will go home?" Chayne smiled rather bitterly. "Yes, I suppose so." "Into Sussex?" "Yes." She opened the door, and as he came out on to the steps she looked at him with a thoughtful scrutiny for a few moments.
And this is what happened. "Jaff Chayne," she said, "I want to have a word with you. You'll excuse me, Doria, but Jaff Chayne's as much my trustee as he is yours. I have business to talk." Doria eyed her coldly. "Talk as much business as you like, my dear girl. I'm not preventing you." Jaffery strode off with Liosha. As soon as they were out of earshot, she said: "Are you going to marry her?"
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