face. Let it remind me—of something—left to
say."

The sight of him fighting so hard for his
senses, and the doubt whether he might not
for the instant be possessed by the strength of
a dozen men, kept his opponent still. Wildly
glaring at him, Vendale faltered out the broken
words:

"It shall not be—the trust—of the dead—
betrayed by me—reputed parents—misinherited
fortune—see to it!"

As his head dropped on his breast, and he
stumbled on the brink of the chasm as before,
the thievish hands went once more, quick and
busy, to his breast. He made a convulsive
attempt to cry "No!" desperately rolled
himself over into the gulf; and sank away from his
enemy's touch, like a phantom in a dreadful
dream.

The mountain storm raged again, and passed
again. The awful mountain-voices died away,
the moon rose, and the soft and silent snow
fell.

Two men and two large dogs came out at
the door of the Hospice. The men looked
carefully around them, and up at the sky. The
dogs rolled in the snow, and took it into their
mouths, and cast it up with their paws.

One of the men said to the other: "We may
venture now. We may find them in one of the
five Refuges." Each fastened on his back, a
basket; each took in his hand, a strong spiked
pole; each girded under his arms, a looped
end of a stout rope, so that they were tied
together.

Suddenly the dogs desisted from their
gambols in the snow, stood looking down the ascent,
put their noses up, put their noses down,
became greatly excited, and broke into a deep loud
bay together.

The two men looked in the faces of the two
dogs. The two dogs looked, with at least equal
intelligence, in the faces of the two men.

"Au secours, then! Help! To the rescue!"
cried the two men. The two dogs, with a glad,
deep, generous bark, bounded away.

"Two more mad ones!" said the men, stricken
motionless, and looking away into the
moonlight. "Is it possible in such weather! And
one of them a woman!"

Each of the dogs had the corner of a woman's
dress in its mouth, and drew her along. She
fondled their heads as she came up, and she
came up through the snow with an accustomed
tread. Not so the large man with her, who
was spent and winded.

"Dear guides, dear friends of travellers! I
am of your country. We seek two gentlemen
crossing the Pass, who should have reached the
Hospice this evening."

"They have reached it, ma'amselle."

"Thank Heaven! O thank Heaven!"

"But, unhappily, they have gone on again.
We are setting forth to seek them even now.
We had to wait until the Tourmente passed. It
has been fearful up here."

"Dear guides, dear friends of travellers! Let
me go with you. Let me go with you, for the
love of GOD! One of those gentlemen is to
be my husband. I love him, oh, so dearly. O
so dearly! You see I am not faint, you see I
am not tired. I am born a peasant girl. I
will show you that I know well how to fasten
myself to your ropes. I will do it with my own
hands. I will swear to be brave and good.
But let me go with you, let me go with you!
If any mischance should have befallen him, my
love would find him, when nothing else could.
On my knees, dear friends of travellers! By
the love your dear mothers had for your
fathers!"

The good rough fellows were moved. "After
all," they murmured to one another, "she
speaks but the truth. She knows the ways of
the mountains. See how marvellously she has
come here! But as to Monsieur there, ma'am-
selle?"

"Dear Mr. Joey," said Marguerite, addressing
him in his own tongue, "you will remain at the
house, and wait for me; will you not?"

"If I know'd which o' you two
recommended it," growled Joey Ladle, eyeing the
two men with great indignation, "I'd light
you for sixpence, and give you half-a-crown
towards your expenses. No, miss. I'll stick by
you as long as there's any sticking left in me,
and I'll die for you when I can't do better."

The state of the moon rendering it highly
important that no time should be lost, and the
dogs showing signs of great uneasiness, the two
men quickly took their resolution. The rope
that yoked them together was exchanged for a
longer one; the party were secured, Marguerite
second, and the Cellarman last; and they set out
for the Refuges. The actual distance of those
places was nothing; the whole five and the
next Hospice to boot, being within two miles;
but the ghastly way was whitened out and
sheeted over.

They made no miss in reaching the Gallery
where the two had taken shelter. The second
storm of wind and snow had so wildly swept over
it since, that their tracks were gone. But the
dogs went to and fro with their noses down, and
were confident. The party stopping, however,
at the further arch, where the second storm had
been especially furious, and where the drift was
deep, the dogs became troubled, and went about
and about, in quest of a lost purpose.

The great abyss being known to lie on the
right, they wandered too much to the left, and
had to regain the way with infinite labour
through a deep field of snow. The leader of the
line had stopped it, and was taking note of the
landmarks, when one of the dogs fell to tearing
up the snow a little before them. Advancing
and stooping to look at it, thinking that some
one might be overwhelmed there, they saw that
it was stained, and that the stain was red.

The other dog was now seen to look over the
brink of the gulf, with his fore legs straightened
out, lest he should fall into it, and to tremble in
every limb. Then the dog who had found the
stained snow joined him, and then they ran to