"These thunders, as we were afterwards told, are caused by the splitting of the ice when there comes a fall in the barometer. Then the glacier will yawn like a sliced junket.
"My faith! what a simile! But again the point of view, my friend.
"All in a moment I heard a little cluck. I looked down. Alas! the fine spirit was obscured. Fidèle was weeping.
"'Chut! chut!' I exclaimed in consternation. 'We will go back at once.'
"She struggled to smile, the poor mignonne.
"'It is only that my knees are sick,' she said piteously.
"I took her in my strong arms tenderly.
"We had paused on a ridge of hard snow.
"There came a tearing clang—an enormous sucking sound, as of wet lips opening. The snow sank under our feet.
"'My God!' shrieked Fidèle.