THE ROCKER. 
267 
Switzerland has ever seen, and you know it. 
I'm glad you are honest about it. But new 
men sometimes invent new methods. Mr. 
O’Rorke wants to conduct some experiments 
and I want to watch them. For guide we 
are taking Heinrich Lahn.” 
Carthew’ s laugh was sarcastic. 
“ Your friend aims high, doesn’t he ? ” he 
asked. “ It’s rather ambitious to experiment 
with the most impossible peak in the Alps.” 
“ 1 like ambition,” said Muriel, blandly. 
The Bishop pressed down the tobacco in 
his pipe. 
“So do I,” he allowed, “ but I don’t 
encourage foolhardiness. Lahn is good enough, 
but he will have all his work cut out for him 
in looking after your friend. Unless some- 
body else of proved experience accompanies 
you I must forbid your going.” 
Carthew preened himself. 
“ lam only too happy to offer to accompany 
— Miss Frenton,” he said. “ 1 must not be 
considered to be taking any responsibilities 
for Mr. O’Rorke.” 
The girl looked at him in silence for a 
moment. Then she laughed. 
“ Very well,” she agreed. She laughed 
again. “ Poor Mr. O’Rorke ! Between the 
three of us we shall almost stifle him with our 
helpfulness, sha’n’t we ? ” 
Carthew did not smile. 
“ 1 should strongly advise your leaving Mr. 
O’Rorke at home,” he recommended, and 
Muriel nodded sagely. 
“ Advice is your strong point, Mr. Carthew,” 
she said, and wheeled towards the hotel. 
“ You’ll arrange everything with Lahn ? ” 
she added, over Tier shoulder, and Carthew, 
conquering a desire to use a monosyllable 
which no Bishop could possibly be brought 
to approve, agreed that he would. But his 
face was a study in irritation as he resumed 
his seat and accepted a light for his cigarette. 
“ It’s odd how you manage to rub her the 
wrong way,” meditated Muriel’s father, look- 
ing at the son-in-law of his desire with a 
reflective air, and Carthew for the second time 
gulped down an impulse to be emphatic. 
But a new determination was beginning to 
bulk largely in his mind. Iiis future wife, 
he assured himself, should avoid the company 
of picturesque and affable strangers. Those 
from the land of the Golden West would he 
absolutely barred. On this point his decision 
was adamant. 
Meanwhile, at the terraced entrance of the 
hotel, Muriel was greeting with smiles the 
appearance of a gentleman whose frank 
countenance was beaded with perspiration, 
Vol- xlvi.— 36. 
while the glowing colour of his cheeks indi- 
cated that he had taken recent and strenuous 
exercise. He bore a rope coiled across his 
shoulder — but not by any means the kind of 
rope to which the mountaineering community 
of Grindenzat was accustomed. It was made 
of skilfully-plaited rawhide. 
He raised his hat. The girl looked at him 
inquiringly. 
“ You’ve been practising,” she decided, 
and his laugh admitted her conclusion. 
“ On the moraine rocks,” he said. “ I 
managed full fifty feet.” 
“ That means success l ” she exulted. “ My 
goodness ! We shall thrill all the Alpine 
clubs of Europe 1 ” 
“ It’s not the Alpine clubs that I’m caring 
about,” said her companion, in an accent 
which was not wholly Irish or wholly 
American, but a pleasant blend of both. 
“ There’s only the one person that T have a 
consuming desire to satisfy, and that’s — you.” 
She looked at him with a demure little 
wrinkling of her yebrow. 
“ 1 — I wonder why,” she meditated, 
daringly, and then wheeled quickly into the 
open doorway of the hotel. For Mr. O’Rorke 
was showing signs of being about to make an 
announcement which she was not at all 
unwilling to hear, but one which her feminine 
perception judged to be wholly unsuitable 
to surroundings which were within earshot 
of a dozen balconies. 
Her cavalier followed with the aspect of 
one not entirely deprived of hope. He 
remembered, perhaps, that the hotel garden 
a few hours later, beneath the light of a 
crescent moon, would brim with oppor- 
tunities to make an announcement which 
became more pressing with every hour. This 
consideration, too, it is just possible to con- 
ceive, may have been fleetingly present in 
the mind of Miss Frenton also. Fate, how- 
ever, willed otherwise. During dinner it 
rained, and though Lahn, on being summoned, 
announced that it was no more than a shower 
which was even then ceasing, the three 
climbers had to retire early without having 
escaped the conventionalities of the veranda. 
On the Bishop’s advice they were in bed by 
nine, the start being arranged for two 
punctually. 
Five hours later Lahn’s optimism was 
justified. He led his party out into the calm 
of a starlit, windless night. 
“ We are bound upon an errand of colossal 
foolishness, gn'idiges frfiulein ,” he remarked, 
“ but at least we are to have fine weather to 
mitigate it.” 
