Back on the solid granite once more, she made a feeble effort to find one of the cairns, or the tripod, anything that had known the human touch. But now into her confused senses came the recollection that many parties climbed McIntyre, and she thought that one such might have chosen to-day and be somewhere within call. She stood still to listen for possible voices, but there was no sound, and the bitter air across the summit made her shrink and tremble. Then she uttered a loud, long, "Hoo-oo-woo-o!" a call she had learned of mountaineers as a child. She listened breathlessly for an answer. It was no use. Yet she would call again—at least it was an effort—a last hope.
"Hoo-oo-woo-oo!" and again "Hoo-oo-woo-oo!" And then her very pulses ceased, for somewhere, far away it seemed, from behind that wall of white her ear caught an answering cry. Once more she called—this time wildly, with every bit of power she could summon. Once more came the answering "Hoo-oo-woo-oo!" and now it seemed much nearer.
She started to run in the direction of the voice, stopping every few steps to call, and to hear the reassuring reply. She was at the brushy edge of the summit when through the mist came the words—it was a man's voice, and it made her heart leap——
"Stay where you are! Don't move—I will come to you!"
She stood still, for in that voice there was a commanding tone which she was only too eager to obey. She called again and again, but she waited, and all at once, right in front of her it seemed, the voice said:
"Well, Conny, it's a good thing I found you. If you had played around here much longer you might have got wet."
But Constance was in no mood to take the matter lightly.
"Frank! Oh, Frank!" she cried, and half running, half reeling forward, she fell into his arms.
And then for a little she gave way and sobbed on his shoulder, just as any girl might have done who had been lost and miserable and had all at once found the shoulder of a man she loved. Then, brokenly——
"Oh, Frank—how did you know I was here?"