I turned my head away and trudged on as fast as I could. It was Farnell I had to reach — Farnell, who might be still alive. But I could not get the thought of Dahler out of my mind. I'd liked the man. There had been something sinister and unreliable about him. And yet, remembering his past, it was all so understandable. I was sorry he was dead. But perhaps it was as well.
'Bill! I think I saw him move.' Jill's voice was small and tight as though she were fighting to keep control of herself.
I peered ahead. The brilliance of the sunlight on the snow played tricks. My eyes were tired. I couldn't focus properly. 'Maybe he's not dead,' I said, and pressed on, my skis crunching in the frosty snow.
When we reached Farnell he was lying quite still, his body curled up in a tight ball. His ski pants were dug deep in the snow and there were smears of blood along the broken lip of the cutting. Jill lifted his head. It was all bloody. I loosened the bindings of his skis and cleared them from his boots. One leg was horribly broken. As I eased it round so that it was less twisted he gave a slight groan. I looked up and, as I did so, I saw his eyes open. Jill was wiping the blood from his face.
His skin beneath the stubble was ivory against the pure white of the snow.
'Water,' he whispered. His voice rattled in his throat. Neither of us had our packs. Jill smoothed his forehead. He stirred and tried to sit up. His face twisted with pain and he lay back again, his head cradled in her lap. His teeth were clenched. But when he looked up into her face and saw who it was, he seemed to relax. 'I nearly made it,' he whispered. 'No — snow. I'd have done it if-' He stopped and coughed up a gob of blood.
'Don't talk,' Jill said, wiping his face again. Then to me, 'See if there's a doctor on that train.'
I started to get to my feet. But Farnell stopped me. 'No use,' he said.
'You'll be all right,' I said.
But I knew he wouldn't. I could see it in his eyes. He knew too. He looked up at Jill. 'I'm sorry' — his voice was barely audible — 'I've been a poor husband, haven't I?'