The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1894-10-24

reached, and afterward Harry Richards
took Gaspard Lafargue with him on all
his more difficult excursions.
But it is only with one of these excur-
sions-tho last of them-that this story is
specially concerned.
1t was in the English travellers mind, if
the weather should be favorable, to climb
Monte Rosa, a toilsome expedition and to
party of less than three more than a lit
tie perilous But it is an expedition that
they never undertook, though they fixed q
day for it. In the course of preliminary
walk, to make reconnaissance of the
route, the inevitable happened for, as
all the world knows, two men cannot go
alone on snow masked glacier without
the risk of accident.
There is no need to make long story
of the excursion. In truth, there is hardly
anything to be told about it. They recon
noitered, for it was dull, gray day, with
clouds and mist drifting hither and thith-
er and dark sky continually threaten
ing snow And at last the moment came
when high up on the Monte Rosa glacier
the English traveller slipped through a
snow bridge into a crevasse, and his guide
held him dangling by the rope and could
not pull him out of it.
Gaspard Lafargue could just sustain the
weight, and that was all. His companions
struggles to release himself nearly pulled
him off his feet. Dropping on one knee,
that he might the better bear the strain
he shouted such directions as he could.
i ssCan you reach the side of the crevasse
with your ice ak, monsieurf' he called.
But Harry Richards could not. The
wall nearest to him was followed like an
arch, and he could not so much as touch it.
s'And the orevasse is deep, monsieuri''
II can't see the bottom of it. -
A pause and then
II think can hold you, monsieur, if you
will drop your ak and climb up the rope. "
But the rope was slippery from trailing
the snow and in parts glazed with ice. 1t
was impossible to get such grip on it as
. man must have if he would climb hand
over hand, and thus the last way of safety
failed.
There was fresh pause while both the
French guide and the English tourist
looked death in the face and racked their
brains in vain for some device by which
the imminent end might be averted. Ev-
erything was still The clouds were black
ening, the snow had begun to fall, and
there was no chance that any one would
bring them help.
Then the voice of the Englishman was
heard calling from the chasm:
sGaspard!"
Yes, monsieur"
'Cut the rope, Gaspard.
81 must not, monsieur; must not
1t is the unwritten but most stringent
rule of mountain climbing. A man may
out the rope to save friend, but not to
save himself. But Harry Richards, hang
ing in the crevasse, was not bound by rules.
He called again:
"Gaspardl'
Yes, monsieur
"You cannot save me- Gaspardf"
II fear not, monsieur. -
Then cut the rope. can't cut it my
self because my knife has been jerked out
OF my pocket. Cut it for me-"
Then there was asilence-a silence as of
the grave-while Gaspard Lafargue bat
tied with himself. He was no coward All
the Swiss guides are brave, and he was
among the bravest of them. At Cham
ounix and at Courmayeur there still lin
ger stirring stories of his pluck He had
stood in just such peril as this once before.
The watch he carried in his pocket had
been given to him by an English Alpinist
whose life be had saved at hideous danger
to his own. He had been covered with
glory for bis courage in the columns of
The Alpine Journal And he had been
brave without thought of glory, merely
because it was his duty as mountain
guide
Now, too, he could be as brave as ever,
but for single thought-the thought of
Nannette, with the laughing eyes, waiting
for him at tho Mont Cervin and wonder
ing why he did not come Through the
mist and tho snow he seemed to see the
smile of mingled love and pride with
which she always welcomed him back aft
er his perilous excursions. Again he pic
lures her anxiety deepening into terror as
the hour grew later and he did not return;
her sobs, bitter and inconsoiable, when
the search party found the bodies and told
her of his end.
'sNever to see Nannette again! Never
to see Nannette againl'
He said the words softly over to himself,
and they unnamed him. The thought
was more than he could bear Straining
every muscle to save himself from being
drawn, even now at the last moment into
the icy cavern, he pulled the knife out of
his pocket with his left hand and opened
it with his teeth
For Nannette's sake" he murmured
as he drew the blade across the strands.
The strain ceased, and he was free, and
then fresh thought began to trouble him.
The first sense of relief only lasted for
moment. The sip of brandy that he took
to revive his circulation hardly prolonged
the moment, and then he was overwhelmed
with the inevitable horror at the thing he
had done, for brave man who plays the
coward, or who merely does what the con-
vention of his class has settled to be cow
ardly, must needs pay for it afterward
Gaspard remembered the case of Peter
Tangwalder. They bounded Peter out of
Zermatt on the mere suspicion-the un-
just suspicion, as most think-of having
cut the rope. But in his own case, as Gas
pard knew, it would not be suspicion,
but a certainty. There were the proofs
resting at the bottom of the crevasse, where
they must presently be found, but where
he could not descend to tamper with them.
They did not love him, those Zermatt
guides, and what handle he had given
theml He pictured his home coming and
his reception, the question what he had
done with the herr the iDavitahle ansvver