There he broke off.
"What shall we call this peak?" he asked.
"Call it the Peak of Sorrow," Jack answered, "because we can't see Rock Castle from it."
"No, call it Jean Zermatt, boys, in honour of your father," Mr. Wolston suggested.
The suggestion was agreed to with delight. Jack pulled a cup out of his game-bag. Mr. Wolston and Ernest followed suit. A few drops of brandy from the flasks were poured into the cups and drunk with three cheers.
Then Ernest got on with his letter.
"——from the summit of Jean Zermatt Peak, we are sending to you, my dear parents, to you, Mrs. Wolston, and to you, my dear Hannah, this note entrusted to our faithful messenger who, more fortunate than we, will soon be back at Rock Castle.
"Our New Switzerland, a solitary island in the Indian Ocean, is about a hundred and fifty or a hundred and seventy miles in circumference. Most of it is immensely fertile, but on the southern side of the range it is barren and appears to be uninhabitable.
"In forty-eight hours, since the return journey will be easier, we may possibly be back with you, and before the end of another three weeks, God willing, we may hope to set eyes again upon our absent ones, for whose return we are so impatient.
"All love to you, dear parents, to Mrs. Wolston, and my dear Hannah, from Mr. Wolston, my brother Jack, and your affectionate son, Ernest."