“Eight or nine, herr. It depends on—”
He paused and looked at Saxe.
“To be sure, yes,” said Dale thoughtfully. “I think,” he continued, to Saxe’s great relief, “that, as this one is rather difficult and dangerous—”
“It ought not to be dangerous, herr, if we are careful.”
“Well, then, difficult,” continued Dale—“you had better content yourself, Saxe, by staying here in camp and watching us with the glass.”
Saxe changed his position viciously.
“I wish you would not think me such a coward, sir,” he said, with a display of temper. “I am to learn to climb: why not let me begin now?”
As soon as he had spoken he repented; for he felt nervous about so steep a climb, and he told himself that, by his hasty words and assumption of eagerness, he had made his feelings clear to those who listened.
Dale looked at him searchingly, and Saxe coloured beneath his gaze.
“If it would be more satisfaction to you to come with us, do so by all means. It will be hard and toilsome, but Melchior and I will take, care of you.”