Pressford's task as leader was by far the more severe; and his climbing was a work of art, worth seeing. He had chosen a couloir or gully, never more than a dozen feet in width, rugged, broken, partly lined with snow, partly glazed with ice. It swerved a little to the left, so that one climber would seldom be just over the head of the other. Doris below, near Maurice, watched steadfastly, fascinated by Pressford's advance, as he crept upward, making no hasty movement, testing each foothold before he trusted to it, taking advantage of every handhold. At times he appeared to cling bodily to the steep rock, writhing and working himself cleverly over one obstacle after another. Having thus mounted nearly thirty feet, he came to a halt, fixed himself in a good position, and then called on Maurice to follow. "You'll be sure to let me come! It looks so deliciously easy!" begged Doris. "Not so easy as you think!" "But you'll have the rope." "Yes. My work is child's play, compared with his." "And mine will be child's play too," she said gaily. He gave a little parting nod, and went up in steady fashion, till he reached Pressford. Then, in his turn, he settled himself firmly, and Pressford started anew. The second advance of thirty feet proved stiffer than the first. Pressford managed it, however, with no real difficulty; and Maurice followed, his task as before greatly simplified by the "moral support" of the rope. Next came Pressford's third effort, the toughest of all. This done, there would be nothing beyond to fear. Slowly, quietly, with never a hurried movement, he worked his way up the gully, inch by inch ascending, till he had gained a level of nearly one hundred feet above their starting-point, where Doris stood, statue-like, on the snow. "Is it easy going now?" shouted Maurice. "Pretty fair," assented the leader. "I haven't had really to extend myself yet. But I think I'll have another ten feet of rope, if you can manage it, before you go down and rope Miss Winton." "Are you over the worst bit?" "Nearly. Ten feet more rope will do it. Quite easy after that." "One moment—" called Maurice. "Can you stand firm? Another ten feet will put me in a splendid position." A pause; and then—"Yes. All right." Maurice mounted the few feet without trouble, and wedged himself in where the gully had narrowed sufficiently to imprison a fallen boulder. Each foot had solid support; and his shoulders rested in a hollow between the boulder and the side of the gully. He could hardly have been better placed. When he had made himself secure, Pressford observed— "It's a bit of a stretch to a perfect hold. Are you quite firm?" "Yes. But don't risk anything. There's Miss Winton to think of." "Oh, I can do it!" came in reply. "The rock's good enough." Then a grim silence, long to the listener, broken only by the occasional patter of a stone loosened by Pressford, which came bounding down the gully.