"If we start again at midnight, we shall be on the glacier at daybreak.

We cannot search the Glacier des Nantillons in the dark." Chayne agreed reluctantly.

He would have liked to push on if only to lull thought by the monotony of their march.

Moreover during these last two hours, some faint rushlight of hope had been kindled in his mind which made all delay irksome.

He himself would not believe that his friend John Lattery, with all his skill, his experience, had slipped from his ice-steps like any tyro; Michel, on the other hand, would not believe that he had fallen from the upper rocks of the Blaitiere on the far side of the Col.