Complete Story. The Heroism of Lord Thornhill.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXIX, Issue XXV, 20 December 1902, Page 1587

Complete Story. The Heroism of Lord Thornhill.

THE STORY OF A SCHEME THAT FAILED,

I. Lord Thornhill flattered himself he had made an impression. Mabel Anstruther, for sueh he learnt was her name, had actually smiled upon him, which was quite sufficient foundation for this conclusion.

That there can be other reasons for a smile, besides admiration, never crossed his mind for a moment.

At first Mrs Thompson, Mabel’s aunt, had looked upon his attentions to her niece's welfare, especially on the boat crossing the Channel, with that pitying contempt which elderly matrons so often assume in the presence of young men, when the responsibilities of a pretty eligible American girl, who i* the possessor of a still prettier little fortune, is weighing heavily upon their shoulders. However, this attitude was taken up before she was aware of the adjunct to his name, and after exhaustive inquiries of the chief steward, the very steward, let it be said, who not two hours before had felt a small round coin pressed into his willing palm by the subject of her inquiries for information received regarding Miss Anstruther’s affairs. Mrs Thompson suddenly came to the conclusion that he really was “a most desirable young man, and a charming companion for Mabel.” The same night at the Hotel de I’Europe, Paris, where by a curious

coincidence Lord Thornhill happened also to be residing, Mrs Thompson determined to sound her niece’s feelings on the subject, but her castles in the air were shaken to their foundation, when for her pains she was rewarded by a merry laugh of indifference.

The climax came when, a few days later, having followed his quarry with all the tenacity of the proverbial bull-dog for exactly a week, under the influence of Mrs Thompson’s encouraging eye, Lord Thornhill thought fit to propose. It was a moving sight, and took place in the conservatory, Lord Thornhill did not hesitate, on bended knee he poured forth a torrent of eloquence, eloquence that had taken such hours of silent anguish to concoct, and had just reached the crucial point in the oration when he was rudely interrupted by a hearty laugh. “I guess you’ll spoil your clothes down there, Lord Thornhill; the floor’s rather dirty,’’ laughed Mabel, good-naturedly.

Lord Thornhill’s consternation was ludicrous, for a full minute he remained dumbfounded. Then, waking to the full indignity of his position and throwing a look at his tormentor that was intended to convey silent and tender reproach, he retired as gracefully as circumstances would permit. At dinner the next evening Mrs.

Thompson threw out a gentle hint that was not lost upon the intended recipient. “Yes, my dear,” she exclaimed in an audible stage whisper to her niece, “I think we couldn’t do better than pay a visit to Switzerland for a week or two. Zermatt is a pretty little village, there are lovely walks all round, and I have heard that one can get very comfortable accommodation at the Hotel Mont Cervin.” Lord Thornhill flashed a look of gratitude at Mrs. Thompson and attacked his fish with unnecessary violence. The following morning after a warm farewell from Mrs. Thompson, and a somewhat chilly one from her niece, which, however, in no way upset his equanimity, Lord Thornhill left Paris for a little village in Switzerland known as Zermatt, and it even occurred to him at the last moment that he might do worse than stay at the Hotel Mont Cervin. Horace Cranbourn flung aside the novel he had been attempting to read, and lighting a cigarette, leant carelessly out of his bedroom window. His reveries, however, were cut short by the slamming of a door in the next room, and the sound of voices, raised as if in argument, wafted through the open window a few feet from where he stood. “But my reputation, sir. Vat dey say ven I come back? Dey all sneer and say Benois, de great guide, fears to cross von simple ice bridge, vile de English heer he guides goes over widout de fear. Vat dey say den?” Horace at once recognised the voice of the most experienced guide in Zermatt, and a remark regarding loss of reputation from such a source at once aroused his attention.

“But my g-ood man,” broke in a second voice, with a slight drawl, “supposing the lady promises to keep quiet about the little incident, natural modesty on my part, you

know.” “But heer, de rftk. de risk, vet if she break her promise? My reputation.” “Well, if she breaks her promise I double the amount agreed, that’s all.” There was a pause, and the smoke from the listener's cigarette floated upwards in the still air as he leaned farther forward to catch the answer. "Do you agree,” continued the first voice, but with a perceptible tremor. “Vat you going to do, eef I agree?" “That’s my business; all you’ve got to do is to go to-day and find a safe ice bridge, mind it’s perfectly safe, over a deep crevice on some easy peak, and report it to me.” *‘She will most likely arrive txx morrow, and in a day or two we shall engage you to guide us up a mountain. “We shall arrive at the summit fn safety, but in the descent, by a different route, we come to the ice bridge you have selected. “You test it carefully and return to us terror-stricken, to inform us that it has melted during the past week, and is now too brittle to cross; you also tell us there is no other way back to Zermatt, and it is too late to return the way we came. “You must shake with terror, fall upon your knees and cross yourself, and then—well, then you leave the rest to me; don’t take any notice of what I say. and keep quiet. You see it’s as simple as A B C.”

“But she vill know dere are Oder ways down.”

“She’s never been on a mountain in her life, and she’ll believe every word you say.” Another pause, during which the sound of rustling notes is heard. “Do you agree?’’ “Yah.”

“Good man,” in a relieved tone- “ That’s right. Now we’ll go down and drink to the success of my scheme.”

The next morning Horace examined the visitors* book with unusual interest. The room next to his own was No. 13, and the occupant no less a personage than Lord Thornhill. 1

Mabel and her aunt were sitting out in the. verandah sipping black coffee and listening to a string band which, favoured the hotel with its presence three times a week. Whether it was due to the efforts of the band, the taste of the coffee, or the fact that she had just caught a glimpse of a painfully familiar face at the other end of the verandah, must of necessity remain a mystery, but the fact remained that the expression on Mabel's pretty face was not symbolic of overwhelming joy. Lord Thornhill’s pleased surprise could almost have been mistaken for genuine by anyone but Mabel. “A pleasant surprise, indeed,” he exclaimed, bowing profusely and shaking Mrs Thompson warmly by the hand- “After all, the world is very small.”

"Yes, indeed,” gushed Mrs Thompson, with equally well-feigned astonishment, “fancy meeting you again so soon, and in an out-of-the-way little place like this, too.” “The long arm of coincidence, yon know’,’’ laughed Lord Thornkill. “But whatever will you do with yourselves in a dead alive little place like this? Very few people visit Zermatt unless they are climbers.” "That is the very reason we came,” responded Mrs Thompson, innocently, carefully ignoring the frown on her niece’s face, and courageously bearing the vigorous kicks administered by a dainty little foot under the table.

“It has always been Mabel’s ambition to elimb a real mountain, and she’s been so persistent that at last I’ve had to give way, but 1 shall make, sure of engaging a thoroughly trustworthy guide before I let her risk her pretty neck.” “Quite so, quite so,” agreed Lord Thornhill. “Now 1 know’ a really splendid guide whom I can thoroughly recommend, in fact I have done a good deal of climbing under his guidance myself, so I know from ex-

perience.” Lord Thornhill wondered inwardly why Mabel smiled at the last remark, but continued fearlessly, “Perhaps Miss Anstruther would have no oh-, jevtion to my company on the expedition, it might prove an extra safeguard.”

The subject of their conversation, however, was studying a newspaper quite regardless of its contents, and was apparently oblivious to' their remarks.

“Oh! that is good of you, she would be very grateful, I'm sure,” put in Mrs Thompson hastily, “and it would greatly relieve me to feel that someone. of experience was with her.’’

Lord Thornhill beamed, bowed, and withdrew, congratulating himself upon the success of his interview, not to mention a feeling of keen selfsatisfaction at the thought of the humiliation in store for a certain stone-hearted young- lady, who had laughed at his eloquence in the conservatory of an hotel in Paris. 111. Nothing but, Mabel’s longing to climb a real peak would have induced her to accept the company of Lord Thornhill on the coming expedition. Lord Thornhill was clad in the most immaculate of Norfolk suits, and carried a painfully new ice axe, which he took no pains to hide from the public view. Many telescopes were levelled at the trio as it wended its way up the little winding path, through the steep grass slopes leading to the Breithorn, until it plunged into a dense pine wood and was lost to view. Directly they had disappeared Horace Cranbourne "lowered his glasses and took down his ice axe from the peg behind the door. Lord Thornhill was jubilant when, after a stiff climb, the little party reached the snow-capped summit and allowed its gaze to wander over the glorious panorama, which stretched out on all sides.

Mabel, too, was in high spirits, which even the presence of her companion could not damp. In fact, Lord Thornhill was so encouraged by her unusually friendly demeanour to him, that he went so far as to accidentally take her hand in his, but he was soon brought back to earth by it being sharply withdrawn, and a remark made to the effect that it was quite unnecessary, as she was “perfectly secure.” After a short rest, Benois suggested that they should return by a different route, and Mabel readily agreed. It was growing dark when, securely roped, they arrived at a deep crevice spanned by a solid-looking natural ice bridge. Benois looked apprehensive, but, in answer to a frown from Lord Thornhill, he bade them not to stir while he tested its strength. In a few moments he returned, terror written on every feature. “Mein Gott,’’ he cried, running towards them, “de bridge is melt, it vill not bear. Vat can ve do?” And sinking on his knees in the snow he crossed himself vigorously, mumbling inarticulate prayers. Mabel started, but did not utter a word.

Lord Thornhill was wonderfully cool.

“Well, we must get down some other way,” he suggested.

“Dere is none Oder,” cried Benois, rocking to and fro and wailing like a child.

“We must go back the way we came-”

“Too late! too late! eet vill take all de night and it gets dark.” “You coward!” cried Lord Thornhill, in a tone of righteous indignation. “Get up and test that bridge again.”

Unwillingly, Benois did as he was bid, but returned with the same terrifying tale. “Good heavens! Miss Anstruther, do you realise the danger we are in,”exclaimed Lord Thornhill excitedly. Mabel was very pale and leanfi against a jutting piece of rock, but there was a resolute look in her dark eves.

“Do you realise our position, Miss Anstruther,” he repeated. “We shall be frozen to death if we remain here.”

“Then I guess you’d better do something-, Lord Thornhill, ’ was the quiet rejoinder. “Miss Anstruther,” Lord Thornhill announced, drawing himself up to his full height. “There is only one way to save us all from a frozen grave. Someone must cross that bridge and so establish a connection with the rope- lam going to cross that bridge. Perhaps you will not think so harshly of me if I fail; perhaps you will find it in your heart to give me some little encouragement if I succeed. Now, may I have your promise that this shall be? It will give me new life, fresh vigour to face the coming danger. Grant me this one little favour.”

Mabel, however, did not seem sufficiently- impressed, although she was still- very’ pale and her voice trembled as she said very quietly and deliberately.

“Look here, Lord Thornhill, this Is no time for sentiment. If the situation is as dangerous as the guide says, there are two alternatives, either you cross that bridge or I. Which is it to be?”

Lord Thornhill was astounded. Truly the unlooked for had happened. However, he could not afford to lose such an opportunity of distinguishing himself, and it only remained to courageously cross the bridge, bring the party’ safely’ back to Zermatt, and so win back the regard he had lost in Mabel’s eyes, and then, perhaps, there was _ still a chance. With Mrs Thompson’s influence, a young girl’s changeable nature, and a little perseverance, who knows what might still be done?”

“How can you ask such a question?” he demanded, with well-feign-ed indignation, as he gave the rope about his waist a hitch and set forth on his “perilous” journey. Needless to say the bridge was perfectly firm, but not very wide, and for a moment he hesitated. It was

not quite such an easy task as he had anticipated.

However, after carefully feeling his way with his knees, he succeeded in crawling half-way across, and had just come to the conclusion that it would certainly make more of an impression if he walked the remaining few yards, when, in attempting to rise from the kneeling position, his foot slipped, he overbalanced and fell, carrying a shower of loose snow and ice in his descent.

Mabel felt a violent jerk at her waist, and the next moment she was dragged off her feet and slipping, slipping towards the edge of the fatal crevice.

Benois, whose experienced eye took in the whole situation at a glance, sprang like a tiger from the rock against which he had been huddled, and with a desperate clutch seized the end of the rope as it slid along the snow; almost simultaneously Mabel disappeared from view. With a superhuman effort, in which, despite his heavily nailed boots, he was dragged to within a yard of the crevice’s edge, he succeeded in checking their descent, and stood ■panting on the giddy edge.

Then digging his ice axe —which he carried strapped to his wrist—deep into the hard snow, he tied the end of the rope securely to the stem, and sank exhausted on the snow. Lord Thornhill’s shouts were terrifying as he dangled struggling on the end of the rope, oblivious of the fact that every movement sent a spasm of pain through Mabel’s frail body as she hung helpless against the glassy sides of the crevice. Benois was soon at work again. “Fraulein,” he cried, lying flat on his chest, and leaning far out over the yawning abyss, “I will fetch de help as quickly as I can, I can do nozing- alone. Eff eet ees too much strain

cut de rope, below,” and he dexterously dropped a stout knife into Mabel's outstretched hand. A shiver of horror ran through Lord Thornhill’s limp body. Was it for this he had paid Benois £5OO sterling? “For heaven’s sake don’t do that, Miss Anstruther!” he shrieked.-

“I won’t cut the rope if you keep still, Lord Thornhill,” came the reassuring answer, and it was marvellous how motionless the latter's swaying body became.

Benois had not been gone two minutes before he came running back, shouting and waving his arms in a perfect transport of joy. “We are saved! help already comes!” he yelled. Horace Cranbourn did not crawl across that bridge; he ran, and -in a few minutes Mabel sat leaning against a jutting rock, pale as death, while Lord Thornhill lay at her feet in a dead faint.

An explanation was not necessary. When half an hour later the whole party passed over that dangerous ice bridge with the greatest composure, Mabel had guessed the cause of Lord Thornhill's heroism.

The episode of the ice bridge was never heard in Zermatt. The English nobility can be very retiring on occasions, and sometimes dislike nothing more than to have their actions made public. It therefore still remains a mystery to Mrs Thompson why Lord Thornhill left Zermatt with such undue haste and without a word of explanation. Mabel and Horace have conquered many peaks since the Breithorn, and it is whispered that the former has no objection to the latter's company; in fact, it is rumoured that she has determined to put up with it for some time to come.

EDWARD RALPH.