"I don't understand that."

Walters smiled. "I always found Lawrence good-humored and it would surprise me if he did anything you didn't like. I don't know that I can go farther without venturing on an open compliment. But I'm anxious to know how he is."

"He is getting better, but must be kept quiet for some time. But why did you come here?"

"It ought to be obvious," Walters replied in a tone of mild protest.

"You blame me for my friend's illness, and though I don't know what I left undone, I am, in a sense, responsible; anyway, I was with him.

Well, I found I had to go east, and determined to put off my business for a day or two so I could stop over and see how he is getting on."

"You may see him. But you must remember that he isn't strong and needs quietness."

"I'll be very careful," Walters said with a grateful look. "May I take it that your consent is a sign that you'll try to forgive me for my share in the accident?"

Lucy forced a smile. "We'll see how you keep your promise."

She sat down, feeling rather limp, when he left her. He had, on the surface, taken a very proper line, and his excuse for coming was plausible, but she knew that it was false. The man had meant to leave her lover to freeze among the rocks and was horribly clever. It was hard to preserve her calm when she hated and feared him, and although she thought she had not acted badly, the interview had been trying.

Besides, Lawrence was generous and not very discriminating. Walters might find a way of disarming the suspicions Foster had roused.

When the page showed Walters to his room, he said to the lad, "I want somebody to go to the station for my bag. Have they a telegraph office?"

"Yep; I'm going down to send a wire. Office isn't open long. Agent quits as soon as the east-bound freight comes through."

"I suppose the wire's from Miss Stephen?"

The page nodded and Walters gave him twenty-five cents. "Well, if you can wait a little, I'll have a message to send; it will save you a journey."

The boy hesitated; but the money banished his doubts. "All right; you'd better get it written. The freight's nearly due."

Walters went to Lawrence's room before he wrote the telegram, and met Lucy again at dinner. There were only two tables in use in the large dining-room, and the waiter sent him to Mrs. Stephen's. Lucy wondered whether Walters had arranged this with the man beforehand, but it gave her an opportunity of watching him and she did not object. She admitted that he had nerve and tact, for although she feared him and her mother shared her distrust, he was able to banish the constraint both felt and amuse the party. Lucy could not tell what Lawrence thought, but he laughed at the other's stories and now and then bantered him.

After dinner Walters left them and when they went; to Mrs. Stephen's sitting-room Lucy remarked rather sharply: "You seemed to find Walters amusing!"

"He is amusing," Lawrence answered. "In fact, the fellow puzzles me."

"You mean he couldn't talk in that good-humored, witty way if he had plotted to leave you on the _couloir_?"

"Well," said Lawrence, "I suppose I did feel something of the kind."

"I don't know that it's very logical," Lucy rejoined, hiding her alarm.

"You agreed with Foster's conclusions when he was here."

"I did, to some extent. The way Jake argued out the matter made things look pretty bad."

"But they look better now? Walters was talking to you in your room?"

"He didn't say much about our climb; just a word or two of regret for his carelessness in not seeing what had happened to the guide."

"Words that were very carefully chosen, no doubt!"

"Well," said Lawrence, "I'm frankly puzzled; the more I think about our adventure, the harder it is to decide how much one could hold Walters accountable for. It _was_ difficult to throw me up the rope without slipping, and there was only a small, projecting rock, on which he might have broken his bones, to prevent his tobogganing to the bottom.

If he had slid past it, he would have been killed."

"Walters wouldn't hesitate about a risk. It might have looked like an accident if you hadn't heard Foster's story."

Lawrence knitted his brows, rather impatiently. "After all, Jake's a romantic fellow, and his explanation's theatrical."

"You don't like theatrical things," Mrs. Stephen interposed. "You must admit that they happen, but you feel it's ridiculous that they should happen to you."

"I imagine I do feel that," Lawrence agreed with a smile. "When they happen to somebody else they're not so unnatural."

Lucy tried to preserve her self-control, but her tone was sharp as she said, "Then you feel inclined to forgive Walters the pain and illness he caused you."

"It would be harder to forgive him your anxiety," Lawrence rejoined, and his face set hard. "In fact, if I knew he really had plotted the thing------" He paused and resumed: "One would be justified in killing a brute who could do what you imagine, but there's a difference between hating a crime and punishing the man accused of it before you have proved his guilt. In the meantime, I'm trying to keep an open mind."

"But you will be careful and not trust him far," Lucy urged.

"I'll run no risks; I've some ground for being cautious."

Lucy said no more. Lawrence was not well yet and sometimes got obstinate if one argued with him. She thought he would be prudent, but it was comforting to remember that she had telegraphed for his comrade.

Unfortunately, she did not know that her message was then in the page's pocket. He had waited some time for Walters' telegram, and when he reached the station found the agent gone. In consequence, fearing a reprimand, he resolved to send the messages in the morning and say nothing about the matter.

The next day was clear and calm, with bright sunshine on the snow, and Mrs. Stephen agreed when Lawrence insisted on going for a short walk with her and some of the guests. Walters joined the party, although Lucy tried to leave him behind, and they leisurely climbed a winding path among the pines. The snow was thin and crisp beneath the trees, the air exhilarating, and through openings they caught glimpses of fissured glaciers, rocks that glistened in the steely light, and majestic glittering peaks. The pines were straight and tall, and the great soft-colored trunks rose in long climbing ranks against the blue shadow on the snow.

They stopped for a few minutes at the foot of a crag, and then Lawrence, who had been sitting rather slackly on a log, got up with a shiver.

"The air's keen," he said. "Can't we go back another way where we'll get the sun?"

One of the party said there was a lower and more open trail, and they went down until they reached a narrow track that followed the edge of a steep fall to the river. The hillside above made a sharp angle with the pines that cut, in scattered cones of somber green, against the long, glittering slope. Below, the ground dropped nearly sheer to the green flood that roared among the ice. Although the trail was safe enough, Lucy kept close to Lawrence and was glad to see Walters talking to one of the others some distance behind. She felt jaded, for she had not relaxed her watchfulness since the man arrived. By and by Lawrence gave her a grateful smile.

"You look tired; I expect I'm something of a responsibility. If you like, I'll make an excuse for stopping in until Walters goes."

"No," she said with an effort, "that would be cowardly and not good for you. After all, I may be giving my imagination rein; but I wish he hadn't come."

"He won't be here long. Anyhow, we'll keep out of his way as much as we can for the rest of the time."

"That's a relief. Still, I expect you really think you are indulging me."

"I don't know what to think," Lawrence replied. "You're clever, and Jake, who takes your view, is not a fool. But it doesn't look as if Walters meant to do me much harm."

"He can't, so long as you don't give him an opportunity."

Lawrence's eyes twinkled. "And you'll take care that I don't? Well, it's rather nice to be protected."

Lucy blushed. "If you would take things seriously sometimes----"

"If I did, you'd find me dull. Now I like you exactly as you are, except that, in one way, I'd sooner you were not so anxious about me.

That's partly why I'm not so serious as you expect I'm afraid you'd get worse if I played up to you."

"Never mind me," said Lucy. "Only take care!"