"Not very," she replied in a voice rendered nearly inaudible by a peal
of thunder that shook the mountain. A ball of crimson fire hung for a
second in the murky sky and then shot into the valley. The guide glanced
at Lynde, as much as to say, "That struck."

They were rapidly leaving the wind above them; its decrease was
noticeable as they neared the Caillet. The rain also had lost its first
fury, and was falling steadily. Here and there bright green patches of
the level plain showed themselves through the broken vapors. Ruth
declined to halt at the Caillet; her aunt would be distracted about her,
and it was better to take advantage of the slight lull in the storm, and
push on. So they stopped at the hut only long enough for Lynde to
procure a glass of cognac, a part of which he induced the girl to drink.
Then they resumed their uncomfortable march.

When Lynde again looked at his companion he saw that her lips were
purple, and her teeth set. She confessed this time to being very cold.
The rain had at length penetrated the thick wrappings and thoroughly
chilled her. Lynde was in despair, and began bitterly to reproach
himself for having undertaken the excursion without Mrs. Denham. Her
presence could not have warded off the storm, but it would have rendered
it possible for the party to postpone their descent until pleasant
weather. Undoubtedly it had been his duty to leave Miss Ruth at the inn
and return alone to Chamouni. He had not thought of that when the guide
made his suggestion. There was now nothing to do but to hurry.

The last part of the descent was accomplished at a gait which offered
the cautious mules no chance to pick their steps. Lynde's animal, left
to its own devices, was following on behind, nibbling the freshened