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VOL, VIII-No 150.
PHILADELPHIA, TUESDAY, DECEMBER 24, 18G7.
TRirLE SI1EET THREE CENTS.
PH-S
N HJi
VJLJUJlN
CHRISTMAS STORY
FOR 1867.
NO THOROUGHFARE.
n y
CUAKLES DICKENS AND WILKIE COLLINS
Omtfmtr d from our Ui'l jii.
ACT III.
IN THE VALI.ET.
It was ubout the niUdlo of tlie month of
February when Vendale and Obenrcize r set forth
on their expedition. The winter being a hard
one, the time was bad for trayellers. 80 bad was
it that these two travellers, coming to Straiburg,
iouml Its great inus nlmoBt empty. And even
the few people they did encounter iu that city,
who had started from England or from Paris on
business journeys towards the Interior of Switz
erland, were turning back.
Many of the railroads In Switzerland that
tourists pass easily enough now, were almost or
quite impracticable then. Some were not begun;
more were not completed. On such as were
open, there were still large naps of old road
where communlcutiou in the winter season was
often stopped ; on others, there were weak points
where the new work was not safe, either under
conditions of severe frost or of rapid thaw.
The running of trains on this last class was
not to be counted on in the worst time of the
year, was contingent upon weather, or was
wholly abandoned through the months con
sidered the most dangerous.
At Strasburg there were more travellers' stories
afloat, respecting the difficulties of the way far
ther on, than there were travellers to relate
them. Many of these tales were as wild as
usual; but the mora modestly marvellous did
derive some color from the circumstance that
people wcie indisputably turning back. How
ever, as the road to Basle was open, Vendale's
resolution to push on was iu no wise disturbed.
Obeureizer's resolution was necessarily Vcn
dale's, seeing that he stood at bay thui dcpe
rately; he must be ruined, or must destroy the
evidence that Vendale carried about htm, even
if he destroyed Vendalc with it.
The plate of raind of each of these two fellow
travellers towards the other was this. Oben
reizer, encircled by impending ruin through
Vendnle's quickness of action, and seeing the
circle narrowed every hour by Vendale's energy,
hated him with the animosity of a tierce, c nu
lling lower animal. He had always hat instinc
tive movements in his breast against him; per
haps, because cf that old tore of gentleman and
peasant ; perhaps, because of the openness of his
nature; perhaps, because of I113 better looks;
perhaps, because of his success with Marguerite;
perhaps, on all those grounds the two last not
the least. And now be saw lu him, besides, the
hunter who was tracking him down. Vendalo,
on the other hand, always contending gene
rously against his first vague mistrust, now felt
bound to contend aeainst it more than ever,
reminding himself, "He is Marguerite's guar
ditiD. We are on perfectly friendly terms; he is
niy companion ot his own proposal, aud can
have no interested motive lu sharing this unde
sirable journey." To which pk-as iu behalf of
Obenreizer. ciianee added oue consideration
more, wbeu they came to Basle, after a journey
of more thun twice the average duratiou.
Ibey had had a lute dinner, and were alone in
an inn room there, overhanging the Rhine, at
that place rapid and deep, swollen andloui.
Vendale lounged upon a couch, and Obenreizer
walked to and fro now stooping at the window,
looking at the crooked reflections of the town
lights in the dark water (aud peradventure
thinking, "If I could Ming him into it I"), now
resuming bis walk with his eyes upon the Hoar.
"Where shall I rob him. if I can Where
shall I murder him, if I must?" So, as he paced
the room, ran the river, ran the river, ran the
river.
The burden seemed to him, at last, to be
growing so plain that he stopper ; thinking it as
well to suggest another burden to hi com
panion. "The Rhine sounds to-nteht," he said with a
smile, "like the old waterfall at home Taat
waterfall which ray mother showed to travellers
(I told you of it once). The sound of it changed'
with the weather, as does the sound of tailing
waters and flowing water. When I was pupil
of the watchmaker, 1 remembered it at some
times saying to me for whole days, 'Who are
you, my little wretch? Who are you, my little
wretch'?' I remembered it us saying, other
times, when its sound was hollow, and storm
w as coming up the Pass, "liuom, boom, boon.
Beat bim, beat him, beat, him.' Like my mother
cnri.sred if ebewa my mother."
"If she was?" smd VeuJule, gradually chang
inn his attitude to a sitliug on?, "if she was?
Wnv do you say 'if'9"
"What do 1 know?'' replied the other, negli
gently throwing up his hauris and letting them
tall as thev would. 1 What ou would have?
I am so obscurely born, thtt how can I say? I
was very young, and all the rest of the family
were in u and woiiien, and mv so called parents
were old. Anything is portable of a cuso like
that."
"Did you ever doubt ?"
"I told jou once I doubt the marriage of
those two," he replied, throwing up his hands
again, as if he were throwing the unprovable
Bubject away. "Hut here I am in Creation. J
come of no fine family. What does it mailer?"
"At least you are Swiss," said Vendale, alter
following him with his eyes ti and fro.
"How do I know?" he retorted, abruptly, and
stopping to look back over his shoulder. "I
eav to you, at least jou are English. How do
you know ?"
"By what I have been told from Infancy."
"Ah ! 1 know of myself that way."
"And," added Vendale, purs uing tha thought
that he conld not drive back, "by my earliest
recollections."
"I also. I know of myself that way if that
way satisfies."
"Dees it not satisfy you?" .
"It must. There Is nothing like 'it must' in
this little world. It must. Two short word
those, but stronger than long proof or rea
eoLtnir." "You and poor Wildine were born in the same
year. You were nearly ot an nee," said Ven
dale, again thoughtfully lookiug alter him as ho
resumed bis pacing up and down.
"Yes. Very nearly. "
Could Obtmelzer be the missing man? In the
unknown associations of things was there a
subtler meaning than he himself thougut, in
that theory so ofien on his lips abont the small
nets of the world? Had the Swiss letter pre
senting him, followed so close on Mr. Gold
straw 't revelation concerning the ln'ant who
had been taken away to Switzerland, because
he 'M that infant grown a man? In a word,
where to many depth He unsounded, it might
pt, j'bet'tDCti or le Jaws, ftll them either,
that had wrought out the revival of Vendale's
own acquaintance with ObcnrolzT, and had
ripened It into intimacy, and had brought them
her toeether this present winter night, were
hardly less curious; while read by such a light,
they were seen to cohero toward the furtucr
anee of a continuous and an Invincible pur
pose. Vendale's awakcnol thoughts ran high while
h's eyes musingly fo'lowed Obenreizer pacing
up and down the room, the river ever running
to the tune: "Whe.-e shall 1 rob him, if 1 can ?
Whereshalll rob him, if 1 must?"The seciet
of bis dead friend wa9 in 110 hazard from Veu
dalc's lips; but just as his friend had died of its
weight, so did he in his lighter suceesslou leel
the burden of the trust, and the .obligation to
follow any clue, however obscure. He rapidly
asked himself, would he like this man to be the
real Wilding? No. Argue down his mistrust
as he might he was unwilling to put such a
substitute In the place of his late guileless out
spoken, childlike partner. He rapidly asked
himself, would ho like this man to bo rich ? No.
He had more power than eaough over Margue
rite na it wa, Hud wealth might invoit him with
more. Would he like this man to be Mar
guerite's guardian, and vet proved to stand in
no degree of relationship towards her, however
diiconnerted and distant? No. Buttbesewere
not considerations to come between him ami
fidelity to the dead. Let him see to it that
they passed him with nojother notice thsn the
knowledge that they had passed him, and left
him bent on the discharge of a solemn duty.
And he did see to it, so soon that he followed
hi companion with uncrrudelng eyes, while he
still paced tho room; that companion, whom he
supposed to be moodily reflecting on his own
binb, and not on cnother man's least of all
what man's violent Death.
The road in advance from Bale to Neuchatel
was better than had been represented. The latest
weather had done it good. Drivers, both of
hortes and mule3, had come in that evening
after dark, and had reported not bing more difii
cult to be overcome than trials of patience, har
ness, wheels, axles, and whipcord. A btrgain
was soon struck for a carriage and horses, to
take them on iu the morning, and to start before
daylight.
"Do von lock your door at night when travel
ling ?" asked Obenreizer, standing warming his
han'ls by .the wood lire in Vendale's chamber
befoie going to his own.
"Not I. I sleep too sounlly."
"You are a sound sleeper," he retorted, with
an admiring look. "What a b'.essiug 1"
"Anything but a blessiug to the rest of the
house," rejoined Vendule, "ir I had to be
knocked up. in the morning from the outside of
my bedroom door."
"1 too," said Obenreizer, "leave open my
room, lint let me advise you, as a Swiss who
knows: always, when joii tiavel In my country,
put jour papers and, of course, Tour money
under your Mow. Always the same place."
"You are iiot complimentary to your coun
trymen," laughed Vendale.
"Mv countrymen," said Obenreizer, with that
light touch ot his friend's elbows by way ot good
night and benediction, "I suppose, are like the
majority of men. And the majority of men will
take what they can get. Adieu 1 At four in
the morning."
"Adieu I Atfonr."
Left to himself, Vendalo raked the logs to
gether, spiinkled over tneni the white wood
ashes lying on the hearth, and sat down to com
pose Lis tboughts. But they still ran high on
their latest theme, and the running of the river
tended to agitate rather than to quiet them. As
lie fat thinking, what little disposition be had to
sleep departed. He felt it hopeless to lie down
et, and sat dressed by the fire. Marguerite,
Wilding, Obenreizer, the business he was then
npon, and a thousand hopes mid doubts that had
nothing to do with U, occupied his miud atouce.
Everything seenied 10 have power over him but
slumber. The departed disposition tosleep kept
far away.
He had sat for a lone time thinking, on tha
hearth, when his candle burned down aud its
li(iht went out. It was of little moment; there
was liebt enough in the fire. He changed his
attitude, und leaning his arm on the cbair-baek,
and his chiu upon that hand, sat tbinkiug still.
But he sat between the lire and the bud, and,
as the fire flickered in the play ot air Irom tha
Inst-Howing river, his enlarged shadow fluttered
on the white wail by the bedside. Ills attitude
gave it an air, half of mourning, and half of
bending over the bed imploring. His eye were
observant of it, when he became troubled by
the disagreeable fancy that it was like Wilding's
shadow, and not his own.
A slight change of place would cause It to dis
appear, lie made the change, and the appari
tion of his disturbed fancy vanished. He now
sat in the shade of a little nook beside tho fire,
and the door of the room was before him.
It had a long cumbrous iron latch. He saw
the lntch slowly and oftly rise. The door
opened a very little and came to avain, as though,
only the air had moved it. But he saw that the
latch was out of the hasp.
The door opened again very slowly, until it
opi ned wide enough to admit some one. It
at ter wards remained still for a while, as though
cautiously held open on the other side. Tne
figure of a man then entered, with its face
turned towards the bed, and stood quiet just
within the door. Until it said, in a low, half
whisper, at the same time taking one step for
wards, "Vendale 1"
"What now?" he answered, springing from
his peat ; "who is it?"
It was Obenreizer, and he nttered a cry of sur
prise as Vendale came upon him from that un
expected direction. "Not in bed?" he said,
catching him by both shoulders with an mstiiic
tive tendency to a struggle, "Then something is
wrona 1"
"What do you mean ?" said Vendalo, releasing
himself.
"First tell me; you are not ill?"
'111? No."
"I have had a bad dream about you. How is
it that I see you up and dressed ?"
"My good lellow, I may as well ask you how
is it that I see you up and undressed."
"I have told you why. I have had a bad dream
about you. I tried to rest atter it, but it was
impossible. I could not make up my mind to
stay where I was, without knowirg you were
sale; and yet I could not make up my mind to
come in here. I have been minutes hesitating
at the door. It 1 so easy to lauerU at a dream
that you have not dreamed. Where is your
candle?"
"Burnt out." -
"I have a whole one iu my room. Shall I
fetch it?"
"Do so."
His room was very near, and he was absent
for but a few seconds. Coating buck with tho
candle In his band, he kueeled down on the
hearth and lighted it. At he blew with his
biealh a charred billet Into flame for the pur
pose, Veudale, looking down at him, saw that
his lips were white and not easy of control.
"Yes!" said Obeurelzer, setting the lighted
caudle on the table, "it was a bad dream. Only
look at me 1" .
His leet were bare; his red-flannel shirt was
thrown back at the throat, and its sleeves were
rolled above the elbows; his only othergarment,
a pair of under pantaloons or drawers, reachiug
to the ankles, tilted him close and tight. A cer
tain lithe and savage appearance was on his
figure, and bis eyes were very bright.
"If there had been a wrestle with a robber, as
I dreamed," said Obenreizer, "you see, 1 was
stripped for it."
"Aud armed, too," said Vendale, glancing at
his eirdle.
"A traveller's dagger, that I always carry on
the road," he answered, carelessly, naif drawing
it from its sheath with bis lett hand, and put
ting it back again. ''Do you carry no such
thine?"
"Nothing of the kind "
''No pistols?" said Obenreizer, glancing at the
table, and iron) it to the untouched pillow.
"Nothing of the sort."
"You Englishmen are so confident 1 You wish
to sleep?"
"I have wished to sleep this long tlm?, but I
can't do it."
"I neither, after the bad dream. My lire has
gone the way of your candle. May I come and
sit by yours ? Two o'clock 1 It will so soon be
four, that it is not worth the trouble to go to
bed again."
"I shall not take the trouble to go to bed at
all now;" said Vendale; "sit here and keep me
company, aud we'eome."
Going back to his room to arrange his dre.
Obenreizer soon returned in a loose cloak and
slippers, and they sat down on opposite sides of
the hearth. In the Interval, Vendale hat re
plenished the fire from the wood-basket in his
room, and Obenreizer had put upon the table a
flask and cup from his.
"Common cabaret brandy, I am afraid," he
said, pouring out; "bought upon the road, and
not like yours from Cripple Corner. But yours
Is exhausted: so much the worse. A cold night,
a cold time ot night, a cold country, and a
cold house. This maybe better than nothing;
try it."
Vendale took thp cup, and did so.
"How do you find It?"
"It has a coarse after-flavor," said Vendale,
giving back the cup with a slight shudder, "and
I don't like it."
"You are right," said Obenreizer, ta'tlnar, and
smacking his lips; it Arts a coarse after-flavor,
and I don't like it. Booh! it burns, though !"
He bad flung what remained in the cup upon
the fire.
Each of them leaned an elbow on the tible, .
reclined his head upon his band, and sat looking
at the flaring logs. Obenreizer remained watch
ful and still; but Vendale, after certain nervous
twitches and starts, in one of which he rose to
his tcet and looked wildly about him, fell Into
the strangest confusion of dreams. He carried
bis papers in a leather case or pocket book, iu
an inner breast-pocket of his buttoned travel
ling coat; and whatever he dreamed of, in the
lethargy that got possession ot him, something
importunate in these papers called him out of
that dream, though he could not wake from It.
He was belutei on the steppes of Russia (some
shadowy person gave the name of the place),
with Marguerite; and yet the sensation of a
hand at his brtist, softly feeling the outline of
the pocket-book as he lay asleep belore the fire,
was present to him. He was shipwrecked In an
open boat at sea, and having lost his clothes,
had no other covering than an old sail; and yet
a creeping hand, tracing outside all the other
pockets of the dress he actually wore, for
papers, and finding none answer its touch,
warned him to rou?e himelf.
He was in the ancient vault at Cripple Corner,
to which was transferred the very bed substantial
and present In that veiy room at Basle; and
Wilding (not dead, as he had supposed, and yet
he did not wonder much) shook him, and whis
pered, "Look at that man 1 Don't you see he
has risen, and is turning the pillow f Why
should heturu the pillow, it not to seek those
papers that are m your breast? Awake!" And
jet he slept, and wandered off into other
dreams.
Watchful and still, with his elbow on the table
and his head upon tha', hand, his companion at
length said: "Vendale! We are called. Past
Four !"' Then, opening his eyes, he saw, turned
sideways on him, the tilmy face of Obenreizer.
"You have been in a heavy sleep," he said.
' The fatigue of constant travelling aud the
cold 1"
"I am bread awake now," cried Vendale,
springing up, but with an unsteady footing.
"Haven't you slept at all ?"
"I may have dozed, but I seem to have been
patiently looking at the fire. Whether or no. we
must wash, aud breakfast, and turn out. Past
lour, Veudale; past four I"
It was said 111 a tone to rouse him, for already
he was half asleep again. In his preparation
for the day, too, aud at bis breakfist, be was
often virtiiully asleep while in mechanical ac
tion. It whs not until the cold dark day w is
closing in, that he had any dietincter iuipres
sioLS of the ride than jingling bells, bitter
weather, slipping horses, frowning hillsides,
bleak woods, and a stoppage at some wayside
house of entertainment, where they had passed
through a cowhouse to ieach the travellers'
room above. He had been conscious of little
more, except of Obenreizer sitting thoughtful at
his side all day, and eyeing him much.
But when he shook olf hie stupor, Obenreizer
was not at his side. The carriage was stopping
to ba't at auother wavside house; aud a line of
long narrow carts, laden with casks of wine,
and drawn by hordes with a quantity of blue
collar and headgear, were baiting too. These
came from the oirection in which the travellers
were going, and Obcnreizer(not thoughtful now,
but cheertul and alert) was talking with the
foremost diiver. As Vendale stretched bis
limbs, circulated his blood, and cleared off the
lees ot his lethargy, with a sharp ruu to and fro
in the bracing air, the line ot carts moved on;
the drivers all saluting Obenreizer as they
passed him.
"Who are those?" asked Vendale.
"They are our carriers Defresnier and Com
pany's" replied Obenreizer. "Those are our
casks of wive." He was singing to himself, and
lighting a cigar.
"1 have been drearily dull company to-day,"
said Vendale. "I don't know what has been the
matter with me."
"You bad no sleep last night; and a kind of
brain-concestion frequently comes, at first, of
such cold," said Obenreizer. "I have seen It
ofien. After all, we shall have our journey for
nothing, it seem""."
"How for nothing?"
"The House is at Milan. You know, we are a
Wine HouFe at Neuchatel, and a Silk House at
Milan ? - Well, Silk happening to press ot a sud
den, more than Wine, Deiretmior was summoned
to Milan. Rolland, the oiher party, has been
taken ill since his departure, and the doctors
will altow him to see no one. A letter awaits
you at Neuchatel to tell you so. I have it Jrom
our chief carrier whom you saw me talking with.
He was surprised to see me, and said that he had
that word lor you if he met you. What do you
do? 0.0 back?"
'Go on," said Vendale.
"On?"
"On? Yes. Across the Alps, and down to
Milan." Obenreizer stopped in his smoking to
look at Vendale, and then smoked heavily,
looked tip the road, looked down the road,
looked down at the stones in the road at his
feet.
"I have a very serious matter In charge,"
said Vendale ; "more of these missing forms
may be turned to as bad account, or worse ; I
am urged to lose no time in helping the House
to take the thief: aud nothing shall turn me
back." - ;
"No?" cried Obenreizer, taking out his cigar
to smile, and giving his band to his fellow
traveller. " Then notaing shall turn me back,
Ho, driver I Despatch. Quick there 1 Let us
push on !"
They travelled through the night. There had
been snow, and there was a partial thaw, and
they mostly travelled at a foot-pace, and al ways
with many stoppages to breatne the splashed
and floundering horses. After an hour's broad
daylight, they drew rein at the inn door at
Neuchatel, Laving been seme eight-and-twenty
hours in conquering some eighty English miles.
When they had hurriedly refreshed and
changed, they wcut together to the house of
business of Defresnier and Company, There
they found the letter Jwhich the wiue-carrler
had described, enclosing the tests and compari
sons of hand-writing essential to the discovery
of the forger. Veadule's determination to press
forward, without resting, being already taken,
the only question to delay them was by what
post could they rrosit the Alps ? Respecting the
state of the two Passes of lue Bt. Uotthard aid
the ISiroplon, the guides and mule-drivers
ditlered greatly; and both passes were still far
enough off to prevent the traveUers froia
bavlngthe benefit of any recent experience of
either. Besides which, they well knew that a
f nil of snow might altogether change the
described conditions in a single hour, even if
they were correctly stated. But, on the whole,
the Simplou appearing to be the hopefullcrroutc,
Vendale decided to take it. Obenreizer bore
little or no part in the discussion, and scarcely
spoke.
To Geneva, to Lausanne, along the level mar
gin ot the Uke to Vevay, so into tho winding
valley between the spurs of the mountains, and
into the valley of the Rhone. The sound of the
carnage-wheels, as they rattled on, through the
day, through the night, became as the wheels of
a great clock, recording the hours. No change
ol weather varied the journey, after it had
hardened into a sullen frost. In a sombre yel
low sky they saw the Alpine ranees; and they
saw enough of snow on nearer and much lower
hlll'cps and hillsides, to sully, by contrast, the
purity of lake, torrent, and waterfall, and make
the villages look discolored and dirty. But no
snow fell, nor was there any snow-drift on the
road. The stalking along the valley of more or
less of white mist, changing on their hair and
dress into loicles, was the only variety between
them and the gloomy Eky. And still by day, and
still by night, the wheels. And still they rolleJ,
in the hearing ot one of them, to the burden,
altered from the burden of the Rhine: 'The
time 1s gone for robbing him alive, and I must
murder him."
Ihey came, at length, to the poor little town
of Brieg,Ht the loot of the Simplon. They came
there alter dork, but jet could see how d warfed
men's works and men became with the immense
mountains towering over them. Here they
must lie for the night; and here was warmth of
fire and lamp and dinner and wine, and after
conference resounding, with guides and drivers.
No human creature had come across the Pass
for four days. The snow above the enow-line
was too soft for wheeled carriage, and not hard
enough for sledge. There was snow In the eky.
There had been snow in the sky for days past,
and the marvel was that it had not fallen, and
the certainty was that It mut fall. No vehicle
conld cross. The journey might be tried on
mules, or it might be tried on foot; but the best
guides must be paid danger-price In either case,
and that, too, whether they succeeded in taking
the two travellers ocross, or turned for safety
a id brought them back.
In this discussion, Obenreizer bare no part
whatever. He sat silently smokius by the tire
until the room was cleared and Vendale referred
to him.
"Bah! I am weary of these poor devils and
their trade," he said, in reply. "Always the
samesti ry. It is the story of their trade to
day, as it was the story of their trade when I
whs a ragged boy. What do you and I want?
We want a knapsack each, and a mountaln-statf
each. We want no eui.'e; we should guide
him; be would not guide us. We leave our
portmanteaus here, and we cross together. We
have been on the mountains together before
now, and I am mountain-born, and I know this
Pase Pass 1-rather High Koadl by heart.
We will leave these poor devils, in pity, to trade
with others; but they must not delay to make a
pretense oi earning money. Which is all they
mean."
Vendale, glad to be quit of the dispute, and
to cut the knot, active, adventurous, bent on
getting forward, and, therefore, very susceptible
to the last hint, readily assented. Within two
hours they bad purchased what they wanted
tor the exf edition, had packed their knapsacks,
and lay down to sleep.
At break of day they found half the town col
lected iu tbe narrow street to see them depart.
The people talked togetberln groups; the guides
and drivers whispered apart, and looked up at
the sky ; no one wished them a good journey.
As they beLan the ascent a gleam or sun shone
from the etberwhe unaltered sky, and (or a
moment turned the tin spires ot the town to
silvir.
"A good omen !" said Vendale (though it died
out while he spoke). "Perhaps our example
will open tho Pass on this side."
"No; we shall not be followed," returned
Obeiueizcr, looking up at tho eky and back at
the valley. "We shall be alone up yonder. "
ON TEE MOUNTAIN.
The. road was fair enough for stout walkers,
and the air grew lighter und easier to breathe
as the two ascended. But the settled gloom
remained as it had remained for davs back.
Nature teemed to have come to a pause. The
tense of hearing.no less than the sense of eight,
was troubled by having to wait so long for the
change, whatever it might be, that impended.
The silence was as palpable and heavy as the
lowering clouds, or rather cloud, for there
seemed to be but one iaall the sky, and that one
coveiing the whole of it.
Although tbe light was thus dismally shrouded,
the prospect was not obscured. Down in the
valley of the Rhone behind them, the stream
could be traced through all its many windings,
opprebslvely sombre aud solemn in its one
leaden hue, a colorless waste. Far and high
above them, glaciers and suspended avalanches
overhung the spots where they must pass by-and-by;
deep aud dark below them on their
right were awful precipice and roaring torrent;
tremendous mountains arose in every yista.
The gigantic landscape, uncheered by a touch of
changing light or a solitary ray of sun, was yet
terribly dist.net in its leroclty. The hearts of
two lonely men might shrink a little, if they
had to win their way for miles and hours araoug
a legion of silent and motionless men mere men
like themselves all looking at them with fixed
and frowning front. But bow much more, when
tbe legion is of Nature's mightiest works, and
the frowu may turn to fury in an instant 1
As they ascended, the road became gradually
more ragged and difficult. But tho spirits of
Vendale rose as they mounted higher, leaving
so much more of the road behind them con
quered. Obrenreizer spoke little, and held on
with a determined purpose. Both, in rejpect of
agility and endurance, were well quallded for
the expedition. Whatever the born moun
taineer read in the weather tokens that was
illegible to tbe other, he kept to himself.
"(Shall we get across to day ?'" asked Vendale.
"No," replied the other. "You see how much
deeper the snow Ilea here than it lay half a
league lower. Tho higher wo mount, the
Deeper the snow will lie. Walking 19 half
wading even now. And the days are so short 1
It we get as hleb as the fifth Refuge, and lie to
night at the Hospice, we shall do well."
"Is there no danger of the weather rising In
the nteht," asked Vendalo, anxiously, "and
snowing us up?"
"There is danger enough about us," said Oben
reizer, with a cautious glance onward and up
ward, "to render silence our best policy. You
have heard ot the Bridge of the Uantuer?"
"I have crossed it ouce."
"In the sumniei?"
"Yes;n the travelling season."
"Yes; but it is another thing at this eeaon;"
with a sneer, as though he were out of temper.
"This is not a time ot year, or a btate of things,
On an Alpine Pass, that you gentlemen holiday
travellers know much about."
"You are my Guide." suld Vendale, good
humoredly. "I trust to you."
"1 am your Guide," said Obenreizer, "and I
will guide you to your juurnej's end. There is
the Bridge before us.','
They bad made a turn into a desolate and dis
mal ravine, where the snow lay deep below
tbem, deep above them, deep on every side.
While speaking, Obenreizer stood pointing at
the bridge, and observing Vendale's lace, with
a veiy singular expression, on his own.
"If I, as Guide, had sent you over there, in
advance, and encouraged you to give a shout or
two, you might have brought down upon your
self tons and tons and tons of snow, that would
not only have struck you dead, but buried you
deep at a blow."
"No doubt," said Vendale.
"No duubt. But that is not what I have to
do, as guide. Bo pass silently, Or, going as we
go, our Indiscretion might else crash and bury
me. Let us go on 1"
There was a great accumulation of snow on
the bridge; and such enormous accumulations
ol snow overhnng them from projecting masses
of rock, that they might have been making their
way through a stormy sky of white clouds.
Using bis staff skilfully, sounding as be went,
and looking upward, with bent shoulders, as it
were to resist the mere idea of a fall from above,
Obenreizer softly led. Vendale closely followed.
They were yet in tbe midst ot their dangerous
way, when there came a mighty rush, followed
by a sound as of thunder. Obenreizer clapped
his hand on Vendale's mouth, and pointed to
tbe track behind them. Its aspect had been
wholly rhacgttd in a moment. An avalanche
had swept over it, and plunged into the current
at the bottom of the gulf below.
Their appearance at the solitary iun not far
beyond this terrible bridge, elicited many ex
pressions ol astonishment from the people shut
up in the house. "Wo stay but to rest," said
Obenreizer, shaking the scow from hts dress at
the fire. ''This gentleman has very pressing
occasion to get across; tell them, Vendale."
"Assuredly, 1 hive very pressing occasion. I
most cross."
"You hear, all ol you. My friend has very
pressing occasion to get across, and we want no
advice and 110 help. I am us good a guide, my
fellow-countrjmen, as any of you. Now, give
us to eat and drink."
In exactly the same way, and in nearly the
same words, when It was joining on dark aud
they had struggled through the greatly iucreased
difliculties of the road, aud had at last reached
the r destination for tbe night, Obenreizer said
to the astonished people of tbe Hospice, gather
ing about them at the fire, while they were yet
In the act of getting their wet shoes oft and
shaking the snow from their clothes,
' It Is well to understand one another, friends
all. This gentleman"
"Has," said Vendale, readily taking him up
with a smile, "very pressing occasion fcto get
across. Must cross."
"You hear? has very pressing occasbn to
get acroes, must cross. We want no advice and
no help. I am mountain-born, and act as Guide.
Do not worry ns by talking about it, but let us
have supper, and wine, and bed."
All through the Intense cold of the night, the
same awful stillness. Again at sunrise, no eunuy
tinge to gild or redden the snow. Tha same
Interminable waste of deathly white; the same
Immovable air; tne same monotonous gloom in
the sky.
"Travellers!" a friendly voice called to them
ftom the door, alter they were afoot, knapsack
on back and staff in hand, as jesterduy; "re
collect! There are five places of shelter, near
together, on the dangerous road before you;
and there Is the wooden cross, and there is the
next Hospice. Do not stray from the track.
If the Tourmente comes on, take shelter ia-
"The trade of these poor devils !" said ;Oben
reizer to his friend, with a contemptuous back
ward wave of his hand towards the voice. "How
they stick to their trade 1 You Englishmen say
we Swiss are mercenary. Truly, it does look
like it."
They had divided between the two knapsacks
such refreshments as they had been able to
obtain that mornine, and as they deemed it pru
dent to take. Obenreizer carried the wine a
his share of tbe burden; Vendale, the bread and
meat and cheese, and tbe flask of brandy.
They had for some time labored upwards and
onwards through the snow which was now
above their knees In the track, and of unknown
depth elsewhere and they were still laboring
upwards and onwards through the most fright
ful part ot that tremendous desolation, when
snow began to fall. At first, but a few flakes
descended slowly and steadily. Atter a little
while the fall grew much denser, aud suddenly
it began, without appaient cause, to whirl it.-eif
into spiral shapes. Instantly ensuing upon this
last chuu.ee, an Icy blast came roaring at them,
and every sound and lorce imprisoned until now
was let loose.
One of the dismal galleries through which the
road is carried at that perilous point, a cave
eked out by arches of great strength, was near
at band. They struggled into it, and the storm
raged wildly. The noise of the wind, the noise
of the water, the thundering down of displaced
masses of rock and snow, the awful voices with
which not only that goree, but every gore in
the whole monstrous range, seemed to be sud
denly endowed, the darkness as of ni?;ht, the
violent revolving ot the suow which beat aud
bioke it into spray and blinded them, tbe mad
ness of everything around insatiate for destruc
tion, the rapid substitution of furious violence
for unnatural calm, aud hosts of appalling
sounds for silence; these were things, on the
edge of a deep abyss, to chill the blood, though
the tierce wlad, made actually solid by ice and
snow, had failed to chill it.
Obenreizer, walking to and fro in the gallery
without ceasing, signed to Vendalo to help him
unbuckle his knapsack. They could see each
other, but could not have heard each other
ppeak. Vendale complying, Obenreizer pro
duced his bottle of wine, and poured some out,
motioning Vendale to take that for warmth's
sake, and not brandy. Vendale again comply
ing, Obenreizer seemed to drink atter him, aud
the two walked backwards and forwards, side by
side, both well knowing that to rest or sleep
would be to die.
The snow came driving heavily into tbe gal
lery dv me upper cna, at wnicn tney would pass
out or it, if they ever passed out; for greuter
dangers lay on the road behind them than be
lore. ine snow soon began to choke the arch.
An hour more, aud it soon lay so high as to block
out half of the returning daylight. But it froze
Darn now as it tell, and could be clambered
through or over. The violence of the mountain
storm was gradually vieldine to a steadv snow
fall. The wind still raced at intervals, but not
lucestanuy; ana wnenit pati9ea, tne snow lell In
heavy flakes.
They might have been two hours In their
irignuui prison, wneu Obenreizer, now crunch
ing into the mound, now creepiug over It with
his head bowed down and his body touchtugtbe
top of the arch, made his way out. Vendale
followed close upon him, but followed without
clear motive or calculation. For tho lethargy
of Basle was creeping over him again, and mas
tering bis semes.
How far he had followed out of the gallery, or
with what obstacles he had since contended, he
knew not. He became roused to the knowledge
that Obenreizer had set upon him, and that they
were struggling desperately in the onow. He be
came roused to the remembrance of what his
assailant carried in a girdle. He felt for it
drew it, struck at him, fitrugpled again, struck
at him again, cast him off, and stood face to face
with him,
"I promised to guide you to your journey's
end," said Obenreizer, "and I have kept my
promise. The journey of your life euds here
Nothing can prolong It. You, are sleeping us
you stand."
"You are a villain. What have you done to
''You are a fool. I have drugged you. You
are donbly a fool, for I drugged you once before
upon the journey to try you. You are trebly a
fool, for I am tbe thief and forger, and In a few
moments I shall take the proofs agatustthe thief
and forger from your insensible body,"
The entrapped roan tried to throw off the
lethargy, but its fatal hold upon him was so
sure that, even while he heard those words he
stupidly wondered which of them had been
wouuded, and whose blood it was he saw
sprinkled on the snow.
"What have I done to you," he askeJ, heavily
and thickly, "that jou should be so base
murderer ?"
"Done to me? You would hv destroyed
me, but that you have come to your lourney's J
end. Your cursed activity interpoaed between v
me and the time 1 had -r.iint.ni mi lu which I
mirht have replaced tbe money. Done to me?
You lave come in my way t once, not
twice, bnt again and again and again. Did I try
to shake you off in the beginning, or no!
You were not to be shaken off. Therefore yoa
die here."
Vendale tried to think coherently, tried to
speak coherently, tried to pick up the iron-shod
Klxfr hn hurl lrt fall; failinor to touch it. tried to
stagger on without its aid. All in vain, all iu
valul He stumbled, and fell heavily forward
on the brink of the deep cham.
(stupefied, dozing, unable to stand upon his
feet, a veil befoie bis eyes, his sense of hearing
deadened, he made such a vigorous rally that,
supporting himself on his hands, he saw his
enemy standing calmly over him, and heard
him speak.
"You call me murderer," said Obenreizer,
with a grim laugh. "The name matters very
little. But at leant I have set my life against
yours, for I am surrouuded by dangers, and
may never make my way out of this place. Tha
Towmente is rising attain. The snow is on tha
whirl. 1 must have the papers now. Ever
moment has my life in it."
'btop!" cried Vendale. In a terrible voice,
staggering up with a last flash of fire breaking;
out of bim. and clutching tbe thievish hands at
his breast in both of his. 'S'op! Btaud away
from met God bless my Marguerite I Hap
pily Bhejwill never know how I died. Stand oflf
Irom me and let me look at your murderous
face. Let it remind me of something left to
The sight of him fighting so hard for hi
senses, and the doubt whether he might not for
the instant be possessed by the strength of a
dozen men, kept his opponent still. Wildly
glaring at him, Vendule laltered out the broken
words,
"U shall not be the trust- of the dead be
trayed by mc reputed parents mlsinherited,
loi tunc see to it I"
As bis head dropped on Lis breast, and hd
stumbled on the brink of tbe chasm as before,
the thievish hands went once more, quick and
busy, to his breast. He made a convulsive
attempt to cry "No !" desperately rolled himself
over into tho gulf ; and sauk away from his
enemy's touch, like a phantom in a dreadful
dream.
The mountain storm raged again, and passed
oeain. The awful mountain-voices died away,
the moon rose, and the soft aud silent snow fell.
Two meu and two larire dogs came out at the
door of the Hospice. The men looked carefully
around them, and up at the sky. The doga
rolled in the snow, and took it into their,
mouths, and cast it up with their paws.
Oue of the men said to the otber, "We may
venture now. We may find them in one of tha
five Refuges." Each fastened on his back a
basket; each took in his hand a strong spiked
pole; each girded under his arms a looped end
ol a stout lope, so that they were tied together.
tuddenly the doars desisted from theirgatnbola
in the snow, stood looking down tho ascent,
put their noses up, put their noses down, becamo
greatly excited, and broke Into a deep, loud bay,
together.
The two men looked in the faces of two does.
The two dogs looked, with at least equal intelli
gence, in the faces of two men.
"Au secoure, then ! Help I To the rescue 1"
cried the two men. The two dogs, with a glad,
deep, generous bark, bounded away.
' Two more mad ones 1" eaid the men, stricken
motionless, and looking away into tho moon
light. "Is it possible in such weather 1 And
OLe of them a woman 1"
Each of the dogs had the corner of a woman's
dress in tis mouth, and drew her along. She
londled their heads as she came up, and she
came up through the snow with an accustomed
tread. Not to the lurge man with her, who was
spent and winded.
"Dear guides, dear friends of travellers! lard
of your country. We seek two gentlemen cross
ing the Pass, who should have scathed the Hos
pice Ibis evening."
"They have reached it, ma'amselle."
' Thank Heaven 1 O thank Heaven 1"
"But, unhappily, they hve gone on again.
We are setting foith to seek them even now. We
bad to wait until the lout meiUe passed. It baa
been fearful up here."
"Dear guides, dear friends of travellers ! Let
n.e go with you. Let me go with you, for the
love of God! One of those creuilcuen is to be
my husband. I love him, 0 so dearly. O so
dearly ! You fee I am not faint, you see I am
not tired. I am born a peasaut-girl. I will
show you that I know we 1 how to laotjn myself
to your ropes. I will do it with my own hands.
I will swear to be brave aud good. But let me
go with you, let me go with .you ! Ir any mis
chance should have befallen him, my love
would find him, when nothing else could.
Oil mv L-nnno itoor frinnrla nf truvpllerfl I Rff
the love your dear mothers had for youc
lathers 1"
The good roueh fellows were moved. "After
all," they murmured to one another, "she
speaks but the truth. She knows the ways of
tne mountains. siee how marvellously she,
has come here 1 But as to Moubieur there,
ma'amselle ?"
"Dear Mr. Joey," said Marguerite, addressing;
him in his own tongue, "you will remain at tha
house, and wait for me; will you not?"
"If I know'd which o' you two recommended
it," growled Joey Ladle, eyeing the two men
With great Indignation, "I'd fight you for a
sixpence, and give you half a crown towards
your expenses. No, miss, I'll stick by you as
long as there's any sticking left in me. and I'll
die for you when I can't do better." The state
of the moon rendering it highly important that
no time should be lost, and tbe dugs showing
siens of great uneasiness, the two men quickly
took their resolution. The rope that yoked them
together was quickly exchanged for a longer
one; the party were secured; Marguerite second,
and the cellarman last, and they set out for the
Retuges. The actual distance of those placet
was nothing the whole live, and the next Hos
p"ce 10 boot, being with two miles but the
ghastly way was whitened out and sheeted over.
They made no miss in reaching tbe Gallery
where the two bad taken shelter. The second
storm of wind and snow had so wildly swept
over it since, that their tracks were gone. But
the dogs went to and fro with their noses down,
and were confident. The party stopping, how
ever, at the farther aich, whero tne second
storm had been especially furious, and where
tbe drift was deep, tbe dogs became troubled,
and went about and about, In quest of a lost
purpose.
The great abyss being known to lie on the
right, they wandered too much to the left, and
bad to regain the way with infinite labor through
a deep field 'ot snow. Tbe leader of the Hue
bad stopped It, and was taking note of the
landmarks, when one of the dogs fell to tearing
up the suow a little before them. Advancing
and stooping to look at it, thinking that some
one might be overwhelmed there, they saw that
it was stained, and that the stain was red.
The other door was now seen to look over the
brink of the gulf, with his forelegs straightened
out, lest he should fall Into It, and to tremble
in every limb. Then the dog who had found
the stained snow joined bim, and Una they ran
to and fro. distressed and wh nlng. . t lutHy.
tbey both stopped on the brink toeether, and
tetting np their heads, howled dolefully.
"There is some one lying belo," said Mar
U-Tthink so," said tbe foremost row. "Stand
well ib ward, the two last, and let us look over.
v The last man kindled two to""MJP
basket, and banded them forward. The leader
taking one. aud Morguerllo the other, they
looked down; now shading the torches, now
moving them to the right or left, now
tbem, now depressing them, niooiulght Ut
below contended with bliick shadows. A
piercing cry from Marguerite broke a long
silence. , . .
"Mv God! On a nrolectlng point, where ft
wall of ice stretches forward over the torrent, I
see a human form I"
"Whexe, niu'amselle, where?"