mrs stoutley, reposing at full length on a sofa in the salon one evening, observed to the count horetzki that she really could not understand it at all; that it seemed to her a tempting of providence to risk one’s life for nothing, and that upon the whole she thought these excursions on glaciers were very useless and foolish.

the salon was full of people grouped in little knots, fighting the battles of the day o’er again, playing backgammon and chess, or poring over maps and guide-books.

“it does indeed seem foolish,” answered the count whose native politeness induced him always to agree with ladies when possible, “and as far as any practical purpose is served i should think it useless. nevertheless it seems to afford amusement to many people, and amusement, in some form or other, would appear to be almost necessary to our happy existence.”

“true,” replied mrs stoutley, languidly, “but people ought to content themselves with quiet and safe amusements. how ridiculous it is to find pleasure in climbing ice-precipices, and leaping over crevasses, and sitting under shower-baths of boulder-stones. i’m sure that i could not find pleasure in such pranks even if i were to make the effort. how much better to seek and find enjoyment in wandering with a book through shady forests and gathering wild-flowers! don’t you agree with me, count?”

the count’s usually grave and anxious visage relaxed into a smile as he protested that he agreed with her entirely. “at the same time,” he added, “there does appear to be some sort of aspiring tendency in the young and strong, to attempt the repression of which would seem to be useless, even if desirable. do you know, madame, while on a voyage some years ago i saw a boy who used to dive off the fore-yard-arm into the sea, and who went regularly every morning before breakfast to the main-mast-head and sat on that button-like piece of wood called the truck?”

“how very reckless,” said mrs stoutley, “and how shamefully regardless of the feelings of his mother, for of course if he had a mother, and if she were a woman of right feeling, she must have been horrified!”

“i am afraid, madame, that you would have esteemed her a lady of wrong feeling, for she applauded her boy, and used to say that if he only took care to acquire as much moral as he had physical courage, so as to become as brave and bold a soldier of the cross as he was sure to be of the crown, he would resemble his own father, who was the best and bravest man that ever lived.”

“how strange!” murmured mrs stoutley, “such inconsistencies! but there does seem to be a considerable number of masculine women in the world, who encourage what we call muscular christianity.”

“yes, there are indeed strange inconsistencies around us,” returned the count. “you have, however, mistaken the character of this particular mother, for she was the reverse of masculine, being delicate, and tender-hearted, and refined, and ladylike, while her boy was bold as a lion—yet obedient and gentle to her as a lamb. he afterwards became a soldier, and on the occasion of a wild storm on the east coast of england he swam off to a wreck with a rope, when no man in the place could be got to do it for love or money, and was the means of rescuing four women and six men, in accomplishing which, however, he lost his life.”

“oh, how shocking! how very sad!” said mrs stoutley, startled into animation by the suddenness of the revelation, “and how different it might have been if the youth had been trained to gentler amusements. he might have been alive now.”

“yes,” returned the count, “and the four women and six men might have been dead! but here come two friends who are better able to give an opinion on the point than i am.”

“what may the pint be?” asked captain wopper, with a genial smile, as if he were ready to tackle anything from a pint of beer to a “pint” of the compass. “only state your case, mrs stoutley, an’ the professor here, he’ll act the judge, an’ i’ll be the jury.”

“the jury is too small,” said lewis, coming up at that moment.

“small, young man!” repeated the captain, with feigned surprise, as he drew himself up to his full height and squared his broad shoulders.

“not physically, but numerically,” retorted lewis, with a laugh—“ho! emma, miss horetzki, lawrence, slingsby,” he called to the quartette, who sat chatting in a bay window, “you are hereby summoned to act on a jury. come along and have yourselves impaled—i mean to say impannelled. a most important case, just going on for trial.”

“what is the nature of the case?” asked lawrence, as they all came forward and sat down in a semicircle before mrs stoutley.

“it han’t got no natur—it’s unnateral altogether,” said the captain, who had just heard it briefly stated by the count.

“hallo! are you appointed public prosecutor?” demanded lewis.

“yes, i am,” retorted the captain, “i’ve appinted myself public persecuter, lord advocate, lord high commissioner to the woolsack, an’ any other legal an’ illegal character ye choose to name. so you clap a stopper on yer muzzle, youngster, while i state the case. here is mrs stoutley, my lords, ladies, and gentlemen, who says that climbin’, an’ gaugin’, and glaciers is foolish and useless. that’s two counts which the count here (nothin’ personal meant) says the prisoner was guilty of. we’ll go in an’ win on the last count, for if these things ain’t useless, d’ee see, they can’t be foolish. well, the question is, ‘guilty or not guilty?’”

“guilty!” replied mrs stoutley, with an amused smile.

“hear! hear!” from slingsby.

“silence in the court!” from lewis.

“i’m afraid,” said the professor, “that our forms of legal procedure are somewhat irregular.”

“never mind that, professor,” said the captain, “you go ahead an’ prove the prisoner wrong. take the wind out of her sails if ’ee can.”

the professor smiled blandly, and began in jest; but his enthusiastic spirit and love of abstract truth soon made him argue in earnest.

“oh, that’s all very well,” said mrs stoutley, interrupting him, “but what possible use can there be in knowing the rate of speed at which a glacier flows? what does it matter whether it flows six, or sixty, or six hundred feet in a day?”

“matter!” cried lewis, before the professor could reply, “why, it matters very much indeed. i can prove it. our excellent guide antoine told me of a man who fell into a crevasse high up on the glacier des bossons, and was of course lost; but about forty years afterwards the part of the glacier into which he fell had descended into the valley, and the body of the man was found—at least portions of it were found here and there. this, as you are all aware, is a well-known fact. bear in mind, in connection with this, that all glaciers do not travel at the same rate, nor all parts of a glacier at an equal rate. now, suppose that you were to lose a gold watch or a diamond ring in a crevasse, the value of which might be incalculable in consequence of being a gift from some beloved one, would it not be a matter of the last importance to know exactly the rate at which the said crevasse travelled, so that you or your grandchildren might return at the precise time and claim the property?”

“don’t talk nonsense, lewie,” said his mother.

“no doubt,” said the professor, laughing, “my young friend’s illustration is to the point, and i fear that i cannot give you anything more definite to prove the value of glacial measurements and observations. i must rest my proof on the abstract truth that all knowledge is desirable, and ought to be sought after for its own sake, as being the means whereby we shall come better to know the good and wise creator, ‘whom to know,’ as his own word says, ‘is life eternal’ but i can give you distinct proof, in a somewhat analogous case, of good resulting from knowledge which was eagerly pursued and acquired without the searcher having the slightest idea as to the use to which his knowledge would be ultimately put. you have doubtless heard of captain maury, of the united states navy?”

“oh yes,” replied mrs stoutley, “he who writes that charming book, the physical geography of the sea, or some such title. my son is a great admirer of that work. i tried to read it to please him, but i must confess that i could not go far into it. it seemed to me an endless and useless search after currents of wind and water.”

“i see you must have missed the very illustrations which i am about to cite, for they are given in his book—one of the most interesting i ever read, and not the less interesting that its author distinguishes a connection between the creator’s word and his works. you know that captain maury’s investigations of currents of wind and water were conducted wisely, and on a vast scale. nautical men of many nations sent in their ‘logs’ to him, and he patiently collected and collated all the facts observed in all parts of the ocean.”

“yes, and quite useless knowledge, it appears to me,” said mrs stoutley.

“well, we shall see,” returned the professor. “there was once a terrible storm on the atlantic, and a vessel with troops on board was so disabled as to be left at last a helpless log upon the sea. she was passed by other vessels, but these could render no assistance, owing to the raging storm. they, however, took note of the latitude and longitude of the wreck, and reported her on arriving at new york. a rescue-ship was at once ordered to search for her, but, before sailing, captain maury was applied to for instructions how they should proceed. the man of science was seated in his study, had probably scarce observed the storm, and knew nothing about the wreck save her position, as observed at a certain date. why, therefore, we might ask; apply to him? just because he sat at the fountain-head of such knowledge as was needed. he had long studied, and well knew, the currents of the ocean, their direction and their rate of progress at specified times and particular places. he prepared a chart and marked a spot at, or near which, the wreck, he said, would probably be found. the wreck was found—not indeed by the rescue-ship, but by another vessel, at the very spot indicated—and the surviving crew and troops were saved. so, in like manner, the study of truth regarding currents of air has led us to knowledge which enables mariners to escape the atlantic sargasso-sea—”

“ha! the doldrums,” growled captain wopper, as if he had a special and bitter hatred of that sea. “yes, the doldrums, or sargasso-sea, where ships used to be detained by long, vexatious calms, and islands of floating sea-weed, but which now we escape, because studious men have pointed out, that by sailing to one side of that sea you can get into favourable breezes, avoid the calm regions, and thus save much time.”

“now, madame,” said captain wopper, “are you convinced?”

“not quite,” replied mrs stoutley, with a baffled look; “but, i suppose, on the strength of this, and similar reasons, you intend to ascend mont blanc to-morrow?”

“we do,” said the professor. “i intend to go for the purpose of attempting to fix a thermometer on the summit, in order to ascertain, if possible, the winter temperature.”

“and pray, for what purpose?” said mrs stoutley with a touch of sarcasm, “does dr lawrence intend to go?”

“for the purpose of seeing the magnificent view, and of testing the lungs and muscles, which are now, i think, sufficiently trained to enable me to make the ascent with ease,” replied the doctor, promptly.

“i go to assist the professor,” said captain wopper.

“and i,” said lewis, “intend to go for fun; so you see, mother, as our reasons are all good, you had better go to bed, for it’s getting late.”

mrs stoutley accepted the suggestion, delivered a yawn into her pocket-handkerchief, and retired, as she remarked, to ascend mont blanc in dreams, and thus have all the pleasure without the bodily fatigue.

we are on the sides of the mountain monarch now, slowly wending our way through the sable fringe of pines that ornaments the skirt of his white mantle. we tramp along very slowly, for antoine grennon is in front and won’t allow us to go faster. to the impatient and youthful spirits of lawrence and lewis, the pace appears ridiculously slow, and the latter does not hesitate to make audible reference in his best french to the progress of snails, but antoine is deaf to such references. one might fancy that he did not understand bad french, but for the momentary twinkle in his earnest eyes. but nothing will induce him to mend his pace, for well does he know that the ascent of mont blanc is no trifle; that even trained lungs and muscles are pretty severely taxed before the fifteen thousand seven hundred and eighty feet of perpendicular height above the sea-level is placed below the soles of the feet. he knows, also, from long experience, that he who would climb a mountain well, and use his strength to advantage, must begin with a slow, leisurely pace, as if he were merely out for a saunter, yet must progress with steady, persevering regularity. he knows, too, that young blood is prone to breast a mountain with head erect and spanking action, and to descend with woeful countenance and limp limbs. it must be restrained, and antoine does his duty.

the ascent of mont blanc cannot be accomplished in one day. it is therefore necessary to sleep at a place named the grands mulets, from which a fresh start is made for the summit at the earliest hours of morning on the second day. towards this resting-place our travellers now directed their steps.

the party consisted of the professor, captain wopper, lewis, lawrence, and slingsby, headed by their trusty guide, besides three porters with knapsacks containing food, wine, etcetera. one of these latter was the chamois-hunter, baptist le croix. he brought up the rear of the party, and all proceeded in single file, each, like the north american indian, treading in his predecessor’s footsteps.

passing from the dark fringe of pines they emerged upon a more open country where the royal robe was wrought with larch and hazel, bilberry, and varied underwood, and speckled with rhododendrons and other flowers on a ground of rich brown, green, and grey. steadily upwards, over the glacier des bossons, they went, with airy cloudlets floating around them, with the summit at which they aimed, the dôme du gouter, and the aiguille du gouter in front, luring them on, and other giant aiguilles around watching them. several hours of steady climbing brought them to the pierre l’échelle, where they were furnished with woollen leggings to protect their legs from the snow. here also they procured a ladder and began the tedious work of traversing the glaciers. hitherto their route had lain chiefly on solid ground—over grassy slopes and along rocky paths. it was now to be confined almost entirely to the ice, which they found to be cut up in all directions with fissures, so that great caution was needed in crossing crevasses and creeping round slippery ridges, and progress was for some time very slow.

coming to one of the crevasses which was too wide to leap, the ladder was put in requisition. the iron spikes with which one end of it was shod were driven firmly into the ice at one side of the chasm and the other end rested on the opposite side.

antoine crossed first and then held out his hand to the professor, who followed, but the man of science was an expert ice-man, and in another moment stood at the guide’s side without having required assistance. not so captain wopper.

“i’m not exactly a feather,” he said, looking with a doubtful expression at the frail bridge.

“it bore me well enough, captain,” said the professor with a smile.

“that’s just what it didn’t,” replied the captain, “it seemed to me to bend too much under you; besides, although i’m bound to admit that you’re a good lump of a man, professor, i suspect there’s a couple of stones more on me than on you. if it was only a rope, now, such as i’ve bin used to, i’d go at it at once, but—”

“it is quite strong enough,” said the guide confidently.

“well, here goes,” returned the mariner, “but if it gives way, antoine, i’ll have you hanged for murder.”

uttering this threat he crossed in safety, the others followed, and the party advanced over a part of the glacier which was rugged with mounds, towers, obelisks, and pyramids of ice. for some time nothing serious interrupted their progress until they came to another wide crevasse, when it was found, to the guide’s indignation, that the ladder had been purposely left behind by the porter to whom it had been intrusted, he being under the impression that it would not be further required.

“blockhead!” cried the professor, whose enthusiastic spirit was easily roused to indignation, “it was your duty to carry it till ordered to lay it down. you were hired to act, sir, not to think. obedience is the highest virtue of a servant! shall we send him back for it?” he said, turning to antoine with a flushed countenance.

“not now, monsieur,” answered the guide, “it would create needless delay. we shall try to work round the crevasse.”

this they did by following its edge until they found a part where crossing was possible, though attended with considerable danger in consequence of the wedge-like and crumbling nature of the ice.

hoping that such a difficulty would not occur again they pushed on, but had not gone far when another, and still more impassable, fissure presented itself.

“how provoking, couldn’t we jump it?” said lewis, looking inquiringly into the dark-blue depths.

“pr’aps you might, youngster, with your half fledged spider-legs,” said the captain, “but you’ll not catch fourteen-stun-six goin’ over that with its own free will. what’s to be done now, antoine?”

the guide, after looking at the crevasse for a few minutes, said that the next thing to be done was to look for a snow-bridge, which he had no doubt would be found somewhere. in search of this he scattered the whole party, and in a few minutes a loud shout from the chamois-hunter told that he had been successful. the members of the party at once converged towards him, but found that the success was only partial. he had indeed found a part of the crevasse, which, during some of the wild storms so frequent on the mountain, had been bridged over by a snow-wreath, but the central part of the bridge had given way, and it was thus divided by a gap of about a foot wide. this would have been but a small and insignificant step to take had the substance been solid, but although the ice on one side was strong the opposite edge was comparatively soft snow, and not much more than a foot thick. the chamois-hunter, being the lightest of the party, was called to the front and ordered to test the strength of the frail bridge, if bridge it could be called.

“why, he might as well try to step on a bit of sea-foam,” said the captain in surprise.

lawrence, lewis, and slingsby, having as yet had no experience of such places, expressed, or held a similar opinion, but the professor bade them wait and see.

baptist, throwing off his pack, and fastening a rope round his waist, which his comrades held, advanced to the extreme edge of the ice, and with his long-handled axe, gently patted the snow on the opposite side. the surface yielded, and it seemed as if even that small weight would break the lump off, but the operation consolidated the mass in a few minutes, by reason of what the professor termed “regelation.” he then stepped tenderly on it, crossed over, and drew the rope after him. antoine followed next, and in a few minutes the whole party was safe on the other side.

“dr lawrence,” said slingsby, in a low grave tone, as they walked along after this, “if we ever see chamouni again i shall be surprised.”

“indeed?” returned lawrence, with a short laugh, “i don’t take quite so gloomy a view of our case. don’t you think that the free and easy, quiet look of our guide and porters indicates that such work looks more dangerous than it really is?”

“i don’t know that,” said the artist, shaking his head, “when men get thoroughly accustomed to danger they become foolhardy, and don’t realise it. i think it sheer madness to cross such places.”

lewis, who overheard the conversation, could scarce refrain from a burst of laughter.

“upon my word, slingsby,” said he, “such observations come strangely from the lips of a man, who only a day or two ago was caught sketching on a snow-wreath over the edge of a crevasse.”

“ah, but i didn’t know it,” retorted the other, “and even if i had known it, the ledge of snow was immensely stronger than that on which we have just stood.”

at this point the conversation was interrupted by the guide stopping and saying that it was now necessary to tie the party together.

they had reached those higher parts of the glacier where snow frequently falls and covers, to some extent the narrower crevasses, thus, by concealing them, rendering them extremely dangerous traps. it therefore became necessary to attach the various members of the party together by means of a rope, which, passing round their waists, with a few feet between each, enabled them to rescue any one who should chance to break through.

thus, in a string, they advanced, and had scarcely proceeded a hundred yards when a surprised “hallo!” from captain wopper arrested them. he had sunk up to the knees in snow. a “hallo!” of alarm instantly succeeded. he was waist deep. a stentorian yell followed:

“ho! hallo! hi!—avast! hold on there abaft! my legs are waublin’ in nothin’!”

his great weight had indeed nearly plunged him into a hidden crevasse, over which those who preceded him had passed in safety. if the captain had stood alone that crevasse would certainly have been his grave, but his friends held him tight, and in a few seconds he was dragged out of danger.

“well, well,” he said, wiping some large drops of perspiration from his brow, as he stood on the other side of the chasm, “land-lubbers talk about seafarin’ men havin’ nothin’ but a plank between them an’ death, but to my thinkin’ the rottenest plank that ever was launched is absolute safety compared to ‘a snow-wreath.’”

“ah! captain,” said the professor, laughing, “you think so just now because you’re not used to it. in a few weeks you’ll hold a different opinion.”

“may be so,” replied the captain quietly, “but it don’t feel so—heave ahead, my hearties!”

thus encouraged the party proceeded with caution, the guide sounding the snow at each step with his long axe-handle as he moved in advance.

slowly they mounted higher and higher, occasionally meeting with, but always overcoming, difficulties, until towards evening they reached the little log cabin on the grands mulets, not sorry to find in it a sufficient though humble resting-place for the night.

here they proceeded to make themselves comfortable. some firewood had been carried up by the porters, with which a fire was kindled, wet garments were hung up to dry, and hot coffee was prepared, while the sun sank in a gorgeous world of amber and crimson fire.

one by one the stars came out and gradually twinkled into brilliancy, until at last the glorious host of heaven shone in the deepening sky with an intensity of lustre that cannot be described, contrasting strangely with the pallid ghostly aspect of the surrounding snow-fields. these were the only trace of earth that now remained to greet the eyes of our travellers when they looked forth from the door of the little hut. besides being calm and beautiful, the night was intensely cold. there is this peculiarity, on alpine mountain tops, that when the sun’s last rays desert them the temperature falls abruptly, there being little or nothing of earth or rock to conserve the heat poured out during the day. the mountaineers, therefore, soon after night closed in, found it necessary to shut the door of their cabin, where they roused up the fire, quaffed their steaming coffee, and smoked their pipes, in joyful anticipation of the coming day.