Chayne's last doubt was dispelled. Garratt Skinner had laid his plans for the Brenva route. Somewhere on that long and difficult climb the accident was to take place. The very choice of a guide was in itself a confirmation of Chayne's fears. It was a piece of subtlety altogether in keeping with Garratt Skinner. He had taken a bad and untrustworthy guide on one of the most difficult expeditions in the range of Mont Blanc. Why, he would be asked? And the answer was ready. He had confused Pierre Delouvain with Joseph, his cousin, as no doubt many another man had done before. Did not Pierre live on that very confusion? The answer was not capable of refutation. Chayne was in despair. Garratt Skinner had started two days before from Chamonix, was already, now, at this moment, asleep, with his unconscious victim at his side, high up on the rocks of the upper Brenva glacier. There was no way to hinder him--no way unless God helped. He asked abruptly of Michel: "Have you climbed this season, Michel?" Michel laughed grimly. "Indeed, yes, to the Montanvert, monsieur. And beyond--yes, beyond, to the Jardin." Chayne broke in upon his bitter humor. "I want the best guide in Chamonix. I want him at once. I must start by daylight." Michel glanced up in surprise. But what he saw in Chayne's face stopped all remonstrance. "For what ascent, monsieur?" he asked. "The Brenva route." "Madame will not go!" "No, I go alone. I must go quickly. There is very much at stake. I beg you to help me." In answer Michel took his hat down from a peg, and while he did so Chayne turned quickly to his wife. She had risen from her chair, but she had not interrupted him, she had asked no questions, she had uttered no prayer. She stood now, waiting upon him with a quiet and beautiful confidence which deeply stirred his heart. "Thank you, sweetheart!" he said, quietly. "You can trust. I thank you," and he added, gravely: "Whatever happens--you and I--there is no altering that." Michel opened the door. "I will walk with you into Chamonix, and I will bring the best guides I can find to your hotel." They passed out, and crossed the fields quickly to Chamonix. "Do you go to your hotel, monsieur," said Revailloud, "and leave the choice to me. I must go about it quietly. If you were to come with me, we should have to choose the first two guides upon the rota and that would not do for the Brenva climb." He left them at the door of the hotel and went off upon his errand. Sylvia turned at once to Hilary; her face was very pale, her voice shook. "You will tell me everything now. Something terrible has happened. No doubt you feared it. You came to Chamonix because you feared it, and now you know that it has happened." "Yes," said Chayne. "I hid it from you even as you spared me your bad news all this last year." "Tell me now, please. If it is to be 'you and I,' as you said just now, you will tell me."