"Four o'clock in the afternoon."

"Yes," said Chayne. The story was borne out by the telegram. Leaving
Courmayeur early, Lattery and his guide would have slept the night on
the rocks at the foot of the Blaitiere, they would have climbed all
the next day and at four o'clock had reached within two hundred feet
of the ridge, within two hundred feet of safety. Somewhere within
those last two hundred feet the fatal slip had been made; or perhaps a
stone had fallen.

"For how long did you watch them?" asked Chayne.

"For a few minutes only. My party was anxious to get back to Chamonix.
But they seemed in no difficulty, monsieur. They were going well."

Chayne shook his head at the hopeful words and handed his telegram to
Michel Revailloud.

"The day before yesterday they were on the rocks of the Blaitière," he
said. "I think we had better go up to the Mer de Glace and look for them
at the foot of the cliffs."

"Monsieur, I have eight guides here and two will follow in the evening
when they come home. We will send three of them, as a precaution, up the
Mer de Glace. But I do not think they will find Monsieur Lattery there."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I believe Monsieur Lattery has made the first passage of the