"What have you done?" exclaimed Leonard, starting to his feet in irrepressible excitement, but cooling immediately as Dr. Peterssen turned to him with a smile on his lips. It was seldom, indeed, that Leonard was taken off his guard, but the suddenness of this foul deed startled him. When engaged in a scheme of villainy he was in the habit of being more deliberate.

"Be more careful with your pronouns," said Dr. Peterssen, inclining toward the abyss, and putting his hand to his ear. "You mean what have we done?"

"I did not stir."

"You lie," said Dr. Peterssen, with a brutal laugh. "With my own eyes I saw you hurl your step-brother over the precipice. In the attempt to save himself he caught hold of my poor patient, but he was just one little minute too late. Instead of saving himself he destroyed his companion, and thus at one fell swoop I was robbed of three hundred a year. I, with a record at least as spotless as your own--we are a fine pair of white doves, you and I--am ready to take my Bible oath to this version of the catastrophe; and I'll bet you a hundred to one, my buck, that I swear you down in any court of justice you can name. A likely thing, isn't it, that I should wish to get rid of my poor patient, when by doing so I lose a sure income? You, on the contrary, have everything to gain by your step-brother's death. Dying unmarried--you understand?"

"Yes."

"You have only to be firm with Emilia and the point is carried. After what she has gone through, and plunged into despair as she will be, she can be made to believe anything, especially when she learns that you are prepared to behave generously to her. To resume, Gerald, dying unmarried, you come into all the property. Therefore his death is a distinctly desirable event in your eyes. Do not, therefore, my dear comrade, in this little affair, attempt to shirk your share of the responsibility, or I will throw it all upon your shoulders, and send you to the gallows. Mr. Leonard Paget, I should be inclined to call you a fool if I did not know you better. What is done cannot be undone, nor, with all your cant, would you wish it undone."

"But," said Leonard, inwardly acknowledging the weight of his companion's arguments, "we are in danger."

"We are in none. Your step-brother Gerald, ardently desiring to gather with his own hands some edelweiss for his lady love, is informed by my unfortunate patient that he knows where the flower is to be found. Unwilling that they shall go alone, we express our intention to accompany them. Off we start with merry hearts. But we have not gone far before the young gentlemen beg to be allowed to enjoy their excursion without our society, and we, two fond and indulgent guardians, yield to their implorings, and leave them to themselves. Lured by the balmy weather, we stroll up the mountains, scarcely noting in which direction we are wandering. We stop and dilate upon the sublime beauty of the scenery, our souls exalted by the thoughts it inspires, when our ecstatic musings are rudely interrupted by screams of anguish. We hasten to the spot from which they proceed, and see--nothing. But our ears, ever open to the calls of humanity, cannot have deceived us. No, that is impossible. So we hunt and look about, calling out all the while to the poor souls who may be in peril to give us some indication how we can assist them. At length our attention is attracted by signs of a disturbance at the edge of this precipice, and kneeling"--he suited the action to the word, and Leonard knelt by his side--"we observe marks in the soil which engender the suspicion that a human creature has fallen over. We call out loudly, and are answered by a groan and scarcely distinguishable but undeniably pathetic appeals for help."

"I do not hear them," interrupted Leonard.

"Then you ought to. Are you quite devoid of imagination? Our hearts are rent by these appeals. We are not practised mountaineers, and are unable to render assistance. Therefore we hasten to the nearest village, and return with men and ropes to the rescue. But by that time it is too late."

"By that time," said Leonard, in a questioning tone, "they are dead?"

"By that time," repeated Dr. Peterssen, "they are dead. And"--with a steady look at Leonard--"of this fact we must convince ourselves before the introduction of other characters into the melancholy scene."

"How is that to be done?"

Dr. Peterssen rose to his feet, and cast sharp glances around.

"We are quite alone, I think."

"Not a person is in sight," said Leonard, watching his ruthless companion with curious eyes.

"Be silent a minute or two."

They stood perfectly still, all their senses on the alert.

"There is no doubt," said Dr. Peterssen, "that we are the only witnesses of the unhappy occurrence, and, thus far, safe. Now to make sure."

He divested himself of coat and waistcoat, and unwound a rope which he had adjusted round his waist.

"It is not very thick," he said, "nor very long, but it will help to steady us. See, I wind and fasten it about this slim trunk which providence has grown here to further our ends. Try it; you will find it quite secure."

"Yes, it can hardly get loosened of itself."

"The descent, as you will observe, is not very difficult after all. All that is required is steadiness and confidence. About 30 feet down--I reckon it is not more than that--you see a broad plateau of rock upon which half a dozen men can stand easily."

"But neither Gerald nor your patient is there."

"They have rolled over it, and we must ascertain their position, if it is possible to do so. Descend."

"Descend!" cried Leonard, retreating.

"Descend," repeated............