Hirst now undertook the task of rekindling the guide’s enthusiasm, after which Simond rose, exclaiming:  “Oh, but this makes my knees ache!” and went forward.  Two rocks break through the snow between the summit of the Mur and the top of the mountain; the first is called the Petits Mulets, and the highest the Derniers Rochers.  At the former of these we paused to rest, and finished our scanty store of wine and provisions.  We had not a bit of bread nor a drop of wine left; our brandy flasks were also nearly exhausted, and thus we had to contemplate the journey to the summit, and the subsequent descent to the Grands Mulets, with out the slightest prospect of physical refreshment.  The almost total loss of two nights’ sleep, with two days’ toil superadded, made me long for a few minutes’ doze, so I stretched myself upon a composite couch of snow and granite, and immediately fell asleep.

My friend, however, soon aroused me.  “You quite frighten me,” he said; “I have listened for some minutes, and have not heard you breathe once.”  I had, in reality, been taking deep draughts of the mountain air, but so silently as not to be heard.

I now filled our empty wine-bottle with snow and placed it in the sunshine, that we might have a little water on our return.  We then rose; it was half-past two o’clock; we had been upward of twelve hours climbing, and I calculated that, whether we reached the summit or not, we could at all events work “toward” it for another hour.  To the sense of fatigue previously experienced, a new phenomenon was now added—­the beating of the heart.  We were incessantly pulled up by this, which sometimes became so intense as to suggest danger.  I counted the number of paces which we were able to accomplish without resting, and found that at the end of every twenty, sometimes at the end of fifteen, we were compelled to pause.  At each pause my heart throbbed audibly, as I leaned upon my staff, and the subsidence of this action was always the signal for further advance.  My breathing was quick, but light and unimpeded.

I endeavored to ascertain whether the hip-joint, on account of the diminished atmospheric pressure, became loosened, so as to throw the weight of the leg upon the surrounding ligaments, but could not be certain about it.  I also sought a little aid and encouragement from philosophy, endeavoring to remember what great things had been done by the accumulation of small quantities, and I urged upon myself that the present was a case in point, and that the summation of distances twenty paces each must finally place us at the top.  Still the question of time left the matter long in doubt, and until we had passed the Derniers Rochers we worked on with the stern indifference of men who were doing their duty, and did not look to consequences.  Here, however, a gleam of hope began to brighten our souls:  the summit became visible nearer, Simond showed more alacrity; at length success became certain, and at half-past three P.M. my friend and I clasped hands upon the top.