Evening star., 1937-09-12
Magazine Section


by a tapping at his room door. Rem
shaw, in nightshirt and dressing gown,
stood outside. Il say, Chipping .
sorry to wake you up but Gerald
hasn't come back yet. What do you
suppose | ought to do about it? Call
the police?"
They adjourned to Renshaw's room
to discuss the situation further. 1t was
night of bright moonlight and Chips.
standing by the window, could see the
full curve of Skiddaw outlined against
blue black sky. He thought he had
never seen the mountain look more
beautiful, and he remembered with
a sharp ache of longing, his first meet
ing with his wife on another mountain
not many miles away - the lovely
girl whose marriage and death had
taken place twenty years before, vet
whose memory still lay as fresh as
moonlight in his heart. And he knew,
in some ways, that it was Gerald as
we'll as the mountain that had made
him think of her, for she would have
liked Gerald, would have known how
to deal with him = she had always
known how to deal with boys, and
whatever he himself had learned of
that difficult art, the most had been
from her.
He said quietly: "I'd give him a bit
more time before calling the police, if
l were you. After all. it's nice night
- he may have gone for walk"
Gone for a walk? At midnight?
Are you crazy?"
No but he may be :. little
-. in fact :" And then suddenly
Chips, turning his eyes to the noun
tain again, saw at the very tip of the
summit a strange phenomenon "a
family pinkish glow that might almost
not have been. YES" he added, 81
think he is little crazy Do you
mind if go out and look for him?
| have an idea . we'll, let me look
tor him, anyway. And you wait here
don't call for help till come
back 49,"
Chips dressed and hurriedly left the
hotel, walked through the deserted
streets. and then, at the edge of the
town, turned to the sidetrack that led
steeply up the flank of the mountain.
He knew his way; the night was
brilliant; he had climbed Skiddaw
many times before A certain eagerness
of heart, feeling almost of youth,
infected him as he climbed-an eager
ness to find out if his guess were true,
and gladness to find that at sixty
five he could still climb a three
thousand-foot mountain like a young
man.
He clambered on, till at last the
town lay beneath in spectral pano-
rama, its roofs like pebbles in silver
pool. Life was strange and mysterious,
nearer perhaps to the heart of boy
than to the account books of a man
. And presently. reaching the
rounded hump that was the summit,
Chips heard voice, a weak, rather
scared, treble voice that cried: Hello
. hello!'
Hello, Gerald" said Chips. what
are you doing up here?"
Quite naturally, without excite
ment or indignation, just as if it were
the most reasonable thing in the
world for boy to be on top of Skid
daw at two in the morning.)
1--WE been trying to make bon
fire" Gerald replied. sadly. Il wanted
to rouse the burglars of Carlisle. But
the wind kept blowing it out {. =. and
I'm tired and cold. )"
You'd better come down with me-"
said Chips, taking the boys arm. A
few half-burned newspapers at their
feet testified to the attempt that had
been made. "And you needn't worry
about the burghers of Carlisle
mt h,,vr1o~, xL, =,