The sun was still shining brightly, and the parties, as they turned, glanced somewhat incredulously up the mountain.
'By Jove, it is coming down,' Captain Armstrong exclaimed. 'It is more like an avalanche of snow than clouds.'
A minute later there was a faint moaning sound, which grew louder and louder.
'Stand close together and take a firm footing,' the guide exclaimed. 'The storm will be on us in a minute. Look after the ladies, messieurs!'
The warning was scarcely out of his lips when there was an icy blast. It lasted but a second or two, and it was succeeded by a dead calm. Then a mighty wind struck them with such violence that they were nearly swept from their feet, while particles of ice, pricking like needles, forced them to close their eyes, and hold down their heads before the blast. The sun disappeared, and at the same moment they were enveloped in a dense mist. Clara Fortescue had clung to her father's arm, and Ada, who was with Captain Armstrong a few paces in the rear, hurried forward towards them, but the storm struck them before they reached them. Unprepared for the sudden shock, Ada would have been swept before it had not her companion clasped his arm around her. 'You must just fancy that we are waltzing,' he shouted in her ear. 'Cling tight to me; this can't last long.' And with great difficulty he dragged her along until they reached the others.
'That is better,' Mr. Fortescue said, as they arranged the shawls to cover the girls' heads. 'We will take care of them, Armstrong, if you will ask the guides how long this is likely to last.'
The guides were but two or three paces away, with alpenstocks firmly planted in the ice and their heads bent down to meet the force of the gale. They were talking together when Captain Armstrong joined them.
'Is this likely to last?' he asked in French.
'It may last for twenty-four hours,' the guide said.
'Then we must be moving; the ladies could not stand this cold an hour.'