He threw himself backward, tightening the rope, and as soon as he could get over his surprise at the suddenness of the accident, Saxe followed his companion’s example. For all at once Melchior disappeared, passing through the snow, and a hollow, echoing, rushing noise fell upon their ears.
“Haul away, gentlemen!” cried the guide’s voice; and as they dragged at the rope, they saw his arms appear with the ice-axe, which was struck down into the snow, and directly after the man climbed out, rose from his hands and knees, and shook the snow off his clothes.
“We wanted the rope, you see,” he said quietly. “I ought to have known by the snow that this part was dangerous. No harm done, gentlemen. Let’s strike off for the side.”
“But you went through,” said Saxe excitedly. “Was it a crevasse?”
“Yes, of course,” said the guide, smiling.
“Was it deep?”
“Deep? Oh yes! Would you like to look?”
Saxe nodded, and the guide drew back for him to pass, but took hold of the rope and held it tightly.
“Go on,” he said encouragingly. “I have you fast.”
“But how near can I go?” said Saxe, hesitating.