The other was to trust to number two to hold his weight, and go to his assistance in the hope of being able to support him until the guide could return to the first party.

As by a flash-like working of the mind Godfrey weighed these alternatives, his quick eye saw what looked like a little bit of fluff appear from the underside of the rope, which told him that one at least of the strands must have severed upon the edge of ice.

Then almost instinctively he made his choice.
"Can you hold him ?" he said swiftly to number two, who answered, "Yes, I think so," in a muffled voice.
"Then I go to help him." "If you slip, I cannot bear you both," said the muffled voice.
"No," answered Godfrey, and drawing the sheath knife he wore, deliberately cut the rope which joined him to number two.
Then he scrambled down to the ledge without much difficulty, reaching it, but just in time, for now the razor blade of the ice had cut half through the rope, and very soon the swinging of the senseless weight beneath must complete its work.

This ledge, being broad, though sloping, was not a particularly bad place; moreover, on it were little hummocks of ice, resulting from snow that had melted and frozen again, against one of which Godfrey was able to rest his left shoulder, and even to pass his arm round it.

But here came the rub.