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Updated: June 8, 2025
They stopped at the first glacier pool and made Hine wash his hands and feet in the water, to save himself from frost-bite; and thereafter for a little time they rested. They went on again, but they were tired men, and before the rocks were reached upon which two nights before Garratt Skinner had bivouacked, darkness had come. Then Simond justified the praise of Michel Revailloud.
Michel spoke with so much certainty that even in the face of his telegram, in the face of the story which Jules had told, hope sprang up within Chayne's heart. "Then he may be still up there on some ledge. He would surely not have slipped on the Glacier des Nantillons." That hope, however, was not shared by Michel Revailloud. "There is very little snow this year," he said.
"But I have trained myself," she said. "I have been up the Brévent and Flégère. I am strong, stronger than I look." Michel Revailloud smiled. "Mademoiselle, I do not doubt you. A young lady who has enthusiasm is very hard to tire. It is not because of the difficulty of that rock-climb that I thought to suggest the Aiguille d'Argentière." Sylvia turned with some hesitation to the younger guide.
Both bodies had been wrapped in sacks and cords had been fixed about their legs. The rescue party dragged the bodies down the glacier to the path, and placing them upon doors taken from a chalet, carried them down to Chamonix. On the way down François talked for a while to Michel Revailloud, who in his turn fell back to where at the end of the procession Chayne walked alone.
The rock-wall had never been ascended, and the few who had descended it bore ample testimony to its difficulties. But a third night, no! Lattery should have been in Chamonix yesterday, without a doubt. He would not indeed have food for three nights and days. Chayne translated the telegram into French and read it out to Michel Revailloud.
Michel Revailloud was on the platform to meet him, but it was a Michel Revailloud whom he hardly knew, a Michel Revailloud grown very old. Revailloud was only fifty-two years of age, but during Chayne's absence the hardships of his life had taken their toll of his vigor remorselessly.
Chayne at the end of the line upon the right looked across. A little way in front of the two men who had shouted something dark lay upon the ice. Chayne, who was with Michel Revailloud, called to him and began hurriedly to scratch steps diagonally toward the object. "Take care, monsieur," cried Michel. Chayne paid no heed.
He shouted again, and then he heard Michel Revailloud saying solemnly behind him: "Yes, they are here." Suddenly Chayne turned round, moved by a fierce throb of anger. "It's not true, you see," he cried. "He didn't slip out of his steps and drag his guide down with him. You were wrong, Michel." Michel was standing with his hat in his hand. "Yes, monsieur, I was quite wrong," he said, gently.
But it was as though for a second they had spoken. Chayne, however, forgot Sylvia Thesiger. As the train moved on to Le Fayet he was thinking only of the plans which he had made, of the new expeditions which were to be undertaken, of his friend John Lattery and his guide Michel Revailloud who would be waiting for him upon the platform of Chamonix. He had seen neither of them for four years.
Pierre Delouvain, being lazy and a worthless fellow, as Revailloud had said, agreed. But the suggestion had been made by Garratt Skinner. And Garratt Skinner was Gabriel Strood, who knew none better the folly of such light traveling.
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