Michel was standing with his hat in his hand.

"Yes, monsieur, I was quite wrong," he said, gently. He turned to a big
and strong man:

"François, will you put on the rope and go down?"

They knotted the rope securely about François' waist and he took his
ice-ax in his hand, sat down on the edge of the crevasse with his legs
dangling, turned over upon his face and said:

"When I pull the rope, haul in gently."

They lowered him carefully down for sixty feet, and at that depth the
rope slackened. François had reached the bottom of the crevasse. For a
few moments they watched the rope move this way and that, and then there
came a definite pull.

"He has found them," said Michel.

Some of the guides lined out with the rope in their hands. Chayne took
his position in the front, at the head of the line and nearest to the
crevasse. The pull upon the rope was repeated, and slowly the men began
to haul it in. It did not occur to Chayne that the weight upon the rope
was heavy. One question filled his mind, to the exclusion of all else.
Had François found his friend? What news would he bring of them when he
came again up to the light? François' voice was heard now, faintly,
calling from the depths. But what he said could not be heard. The line of
men hauled in the rope more and more quickly and then suddenly stopped
and drew it in very gently. For they could now hear what François said.