"What!" exclaimed father and son, in horror.
"Frank fallen? Why I saw him only this morning. I asked him to go with us. Is this true?" said Henry.
"It is only too true, my boy," said Sharpley, covering his face.
And he repeated his version of the accident with well-counterfeited emotion.
"Is there no hope?" asked Henry, with pale face.
Baptiste shook his head.
"I am afraid not," he said; "but I can tell better when I see the place."
"How can there be any hope?" asked Mr. Abercrombie.
"He might have fallen on the deep snow, or on some intermediate ledge, and so saved his life."
"Good Heaven!" thought Sharpley, in dismay. "Suppose it should be so? Suppose he is alive, and should expose me? I should be ruined. But no! It cannot be. There is not one chance in a hundred. Yet that one chance disturbs me. I must find out as soon as possible, in order that my mind may be at ease."