“That it must be a man trying to frighten him, herr. We will go and see.”
“Yes,” said Dale calmly, taking the lanthorn: “we must go and see. We shall be back directly, Saxe.”
“I am coming with you,” said the boy firmly. “I am ashamed to have been so frightened, but it was very horrible.”
Dale gripped his arm firmly.
“Well done, brother mountaineer,” he whispered. “Come along.”
He strode into the ice-cave, closely followed by Saxe, and Melchior went in after him.
“These English: they are very brave,” he muttered. “I must go, too.”
Dale went on, holding the lanthorn on high, and his ice-axe so that it could be used as a cudgel in case of attack; and as soon as the first bend was passed there were clear evidences of pieces of ice having been thrown, while a minute later a good-sized piece grazed the lanthorn, and another struck Saxe on the arm.
“Hurt?” said Dale.
“Not much.”