The sun was hanging low in the sky by the time they reached the hotel, and when he had established Ann in an easy chair and provided her with a cigarette, together with a six-weeks'-old copy of a London magazine which he unearthed from amongst a dusty pile of luridly illustrated handbooks on Switzerland, Tony departed to make inquiries regarding their journey back to Montricheux. He returned within a very short time, his face wearing an unusual look of gravity, and for a moment he stood staring down at her without speaking. "I've got some bad news for you," he said at last, with obvious reluctance. "I'm not able to keep my promise, Ann. We can't get back to Montricheux to-night." She glanced up incredulously. "Can't get back?" she repeated. "Oh, but we must." Tony shook his head. "Can't be done," he answered. "It seems that infernal train is the only means of getting up and down from here. You can't motor or drive. There's no road." The out-of-date magazine slid suddenly off Ann's knee and fell with a plop on the floor. "Are you serious?" she asked, still hardly able to believe him. "Do you really mean we--we've got to stay the night here?" She could read the answer to her question in the unmistakable concern which was written on his face. "Oh, but it's impossible!" she exclaimed in deep dismay. "We can't--we can't stay here!" She sprang up, clasping and unclasping her hands agitatedly. "Don't you _see_, Tony, that it's impossible?" "We've no choice," he replied bluntly. "If there were any possible way of getting you back to Villa Mon Rêve to-night, I'd move heaven and earth to do it. But there _isn't_. We've no more chance of getting away from here than rats in a trap." CHAPTER V THE VISITORS' BOOK It was quite true. They were caught like rats in a trap, and Ann's heart sank. She had lived long enough to know that there are always a certain number of censorious people sufficiently ungenerous and narrow-minded to make mischief out of any awkward happening, no matter how innocently it may have occurred. "Can't you think of any way out, Tony?" she said at last. "I--I don't seem to know what to do." She looked round her vaguely, feeling confused and unnerved by the awkwardness of their predicament. "There's not a châlet within reach, or I'd go off there for the night," answered Tony, adding with a twinkle in his eyes: "And although I might, of course, sleep outside, if you preferred--on the top of the Roche d'Or, for instance!--I'm afraid it wouldn't help matters much, as my frozen corpse would require about as much explaining away as the fact that we've stayed the night here." He had never felt less like joking, but he was rewarded by seeing a faint smile relax the strained expression on her face.