A sudden peal of laughter cut me short.  I could not have believed it came from my companion.  But no other soul was near us, though I looked all ways.  It was the merriest laughter imaginable, only the merriment was harsh and hard.

“Oh, thank you, Captain Clephane!  You are too delicious!  I saw it coming; I only wondered whether I could contain myself until it came.  Yet I could hardly believe that even you would commit yourself to that finishing touch of impudence!  Certainly it is an opportunity, his being out of the way. You were not long in making use of it, were you?  It will amuse him when he comes down, though it may open his eyes.  I shall tell him everything, so I give you warning.  Every single thing, that you have had the insolence to tell me!”

She had caught up her skirts from the ground, she had half turned away from me, toward the hotel.  The false merriment had died out of her.  The true indignation remained, ringing in every accent of the deep sweet voice, and drawn up in every inch of the tall straight figure.  I do not remember whether the moon was hid or shining at the moment.  I only know that my lady’s eyes shone bright enough for me to see them then and ever after, bright and dry with a scorn that burnt too hot for tears; and that I admired her even while she scorned me, as I had never thought to admire any woman but one, but this woman least of all.

So we both stood, intent, some seconds, looking our last upon each other if I was wise.  Then I lifted my hat, and offered my congratulations (more sincere than they sounded) to her and Bob.

“Did I tell you why he is going up?” I added.  “It is to pass the time until he knows his fate.  If only we could let him know it now!”

Mrs. Lascelles glanced toward the mountain, and my eyes followed hers.  A great cloud hid the grim outstanding summit.

“If only you had prevented him from going!” she cried back at me in a last reproach; and to me her tone was conclusive, it rang so true, and so invidiously free from the smaller emotions which it had been my own unhappiness to inspire.  It was the real woman who had spoken out once more, suddenly, perhaps unthinkingly, but obviously from her heart.  And as she turned, I followed her very slowly and without a word; for now was I surely and deservedly undone.

CHAPTER XI

THE LION’S MOUTH

It was a chilly morning, with rather a high wind; from the haze about the mountains of the Zermatt valley, which were all that I could see from my bedroom window, it occurred to me that I might look in vain for the Matterhorn from the other side of the hotel.  It was still visible, however, when I came down, a white cloud wound about its middle like a cloth, and the hotel telescope already trained upon its summit from the shelter of the glass veranda.

“See anybody?” I asked of a man who sat at the telescope as though his eye was frozen to the lens.  He might have been witnessing the most exciting adventure, where the naked eye saw only rock and snow, and cold grey sky; but he rose at last with a shake of the head, a great gaunt man with kind keen eyes, and the skin peeled off his nose.