Saxe dropped, but no farther than the sill of the entrance, where
Melchior was able to hold him, while Dale reached over and gripped the
boy by the belt and hauled him in.
"Oh, Melchior!" cried Dale indignantly; "I thought I could have trusted
you to secure a rope."
"But I did--I did, herr!" cried the man passionately. "I could have
staked my life upon that rope being secure."
"I spoke to you at the time about it not seeming safe."
"The herr said the rock did not look secure, not the rope. The rock has
not come down."
"It is enough for me that the rope came down. Another instant, and that
poor lad would have lost his life."
"Yes, herr; but we saved him. I cannot understand it."
"Has the rope broken?" said Dale, as it was hauled in.
"No, herr," said Melchior, as he examined the rope in the darkness;
"and, see, the loop is here and the knots still fast!"
"It is very strange," said Dale.
"Yes, herr. Ever since I have grown up I have laughed at all the old
stories about the dragons in the mountains, and the strange elves,
gnomes, and kobolds said to live down in the deep mines; but what can
one say to this? Is there an evil spirit to this crystal mine who is
angry because we have come, and who seeks to punish us for intruding?"
"No, there is not!" cried Dale, with genuine English unbelief in such
legends: "nothing of the kind. The loop slipped off the stone; so now
climb up and fasten it safely, if you can."
There was such a sneer in this that Melchior looked at him reproachfully
before reaching round the side of the grotto and then stepping out of
sight.
"Rather an upset for you, my lad," said Dale kindly, as he took Saxe's
hand, while they could hear the rustling and scratching made by Melchior
as he climbed up, dragging the rope after him; for he had not stopped to
coil it up, but merely threw the loop over his head and put one arm
through it.
"Yes, I thought I was gone," replied the boy.
"It has made your hand feel wet, and set it trembling."
"Has it?"
"Yes, and I'm sorry; for I want you to get plenty of nerve out here."
"I'm sorry too, for I hate to feel afraid."
"That was enough to make any man feel afraid. I'm trembling too, my
lad; and my heart felt quite in my throat for a few moments."
Just then the rope was shaken vigorously, and became still once more.
"It is quite safe now, herr!" cried the guide; "and I am holding it down
too."
"Right!" shouted back Dale. "I'll go first this time, Saxe."
"No, sir! please let me go: I would rather."
"Do you feel cool enough?"
"That will make me cooler."
"Then go on. Stop! you had better have the rope midway fastened to your
waist, and I can hold the other end; then you cannot fall."
"No, no!" cried Saxe, rather hoarsely. "Let me climb without."
Dale gave way rather unwillingly, and the boy seized the rope, gave it a
tremendous tug, and then swung himself out sidewise and began to climb;
while Dale leaned out and watched him, uttering a low sigh of
satisfaction as he saw him reach the top, and then following without
making use of the rope.
"Now," he said, as he reached the others, "how was it that rope
slipped?"
"I cannot say, herr," cried Melchior. "Look, here: the loop is big
enough for it to come off easily if some one took hold of it with both
hands and drew it up quite two feet, but it could not slip off by
itself."
"But it did."
Melchior shook his head.
"Oh, man, man, how can you be so absurd!" cried Dale impatiently. "You
don't mean to say you believe any mischievous imp could have thrown it
off?"
"What am I to believe, when the rope falls on us like that? There is no
one here in this desolate, awful place--not even a wild beast."
"Stop!" cried Saxe: "are you sure? Would a bear do that?"
"Surely not, herr."
"I'll believe in the bear before I believe in the gnome or kobold!"
cried Dale. "Oh, Melchior! now I have so far had so much respect for
you as a frank, manly Switzer, don't spoil it by trying to cloak an
error with a paltry excuse. You did not properly secure the rope; it
came off; and it was an accident. You know it was an accident, so let
it rest."
"I have tried hard to win the herr's confidence, and to deserve it,"
said the man coldly. "I secured that rope as I believe any guide upon
the mountains would have fastened it. The rope gave way not by breaking
or coming untied, and I cannot tell how. I told the herr the beliefs of
my people, and that I had ceased to think that they were true; but we
are seeking to penetrate the mysteries of the mines, and this accident
has befallen us. I can say no more."
"Better not to say more," said Dale coldly. "Will you lead on?"
Saxe glanced in the guide's face, and gave him a look of sympathy as he
saw how it was wrinkled and drawn with trouble; but nothing more was
said, and he went on coiling up the rope as they passed along the dark
chasm, only stopping to untie the knot as they reached the main rift and
began the descent toward the glacier.
It was no place for conversation, even if Saxe had been so disposed; for
every one's energies were taken up by the task of mastering the way
between or over the rugged blocks which filled the bottom of the place.
But at last, at a sudden turn, a gleam of the white ice was seen, and
soon after Dale was busily obliterating the mark he had made that
morning for Melchior's guidance.
Then began the slow descent, sometimes beside, sometimes over the
glacier--wherever Melchior could indicate a short cut; the crevasses
were passed, each bringing up its recollections of their adventures, and
at last a more even part of their journey fell to their lot along the
polished rock.
But Dale went on in silence, answering Saxe so shortly several times
that he dropped back from walking abreast, and went on down for some
distance half-way between his companions.
"I can't help it," he said to himself at last: "he must be offended if
he likes. I don't believe poor old Melk could help the accident. I
shall walk with him."
He waited for the guide to come up, and he was soon abreast, looking
inquiringly at him, as if asking what he meant to say. The man's face
was dark and heavy of aspect, and he was evidently deeply hurt by Dale's
anger; and, in consequence, he looked up with a bright smile as Saxe
asked him if he was tired.
"Oh no, herr," he said; "my legs are a little heavy, but not so heavy as
my heart."
"Don't take any notice of that," said Saxe, in a low voice; "he did not
mean anything much. He was angry because I was so nearly killed."
"Yes; and it was just," said the guide: "for I am answerable for your
lives. It would have been most horrible if you had gone down there."
"Yes, of course it would," said Saxe lightly.
"And I have been thinking it over and over, herr, till I can think no
more; for the thoughts always come to the same point. I cannot
understand it."
"Why, the rope got worked up, Melk; that's all."
"No, herr--impossible: that loop could not have worked up unless hands
touched it."
"Gnomes or kobolds?" said Saxe, smiling as he had not been able to smile
in the gloomy ravine.
"Ah, herr! you laugh at the old fancy; but there the matter lies; and I
am beginning to think that a great deal of our misfortune is due to the
same cause."
"What! the stone-throwing from the mountain?"
"Yes, herr."
"Well, don't let us talk any more about it, or you'll be making me fancy
all sorts of things after it is dark. How much farther have we to go?"
"A good piece yet, herr; but we know the way. There is no doubt about
it. In a little while I shall hurry on before, and get the fire lit, so
as to have the tea ready for Herr Dale. I am sorry I have angered him
so."
"Don't say any more about it, and he will soon forget it all."
"Yes, herr--I hope so," replied Melchior; "but I cannot."
Half an hour after he stepped out, and went silently by Dale, touching
his hat as he passed, and went on so quickly that he was soon out of
sight; and then Dale slackened his pace a little, to allow Saxe to come
up.
"Tired and hungry, my lad?" he said.
"Yes, both," replied the boy. "I hope Melchior has brought a chicken to
broil for tea."
Dale laughed.
"Well, now you speak of it, I hope so too, for I suppose I am hungry;
but all that business put eating out of my head. By the way, Saxe, I am
sorry I spoke so sharply to Melchior. The man is very sensitive, and of
course he cannot help having a lingering belief in the old superstitions
of the people among whom he was raised."
"I suppose not," said Saxe thoughtfully.
"Why, in one of their old books the author has given copperplate
engravings of the terrible fiery and other dragons which dwelt in the
mountains. Superstitions die hard. But there--I dare say he will
forget it by to-morrow."
"But don't you think that some one must have lifted off the rope?"
"No: I believe it was his careless tying."
"But I don't think he could be careless," said Saxe quickly. "Then,
about that crystal being found. Somebody must have been down to that
grotto, and dropped it as he came away. I think we are being tracked by
people who wish us to fail."
"Then whoever it is must wish, for we are not going to fail, my boy. We
must and will succeed, in spite of everybody. By the way, did you break
off that crystal by which you held when you were in the grotto?"
"No, I tried," said Saxe; "but it was too firm, and I had not room to
use my ice-axe, we were so close together."
"Never mind; to-morrow will do. We must get a grand collection of
choice specimens, Saxe; and I hope that, as the Swiss Government will be
the gainers by my discoveries, they will not raise any objections to my
taking a goodly assortment away."
They relapsed into silence again, and it was growing so dusk when they
began to climb up out of the glacier valley, that the reflection of a
fire could be seen upon the side of the rocky niche in which they had
formed their camp; and later on, as they came in sight of the little
fall at the end of the rift in the mountain, the foaming waters were lit
up so brilliantly that they looked like gold.
But the beauties of the place were forgotten by Saxe in the sight of a
kettle on the fire, and something which looked wonderfully like cut-up
chicken waiting to be frizzled over the glowing embers, beside which
Melchior's sturdy figure stood up plainly, with his dark shadow cast
upon the side of the white tent.
"Tea nearly ready?" cried Saxe, as they approached.
"Very nearly, herr," was the reply. Then to Dale, as a piece of
sharpened pine was held out: "This is the wood used to pin down your
letter, herr."
"That?"
"Yes, herr; and it was stuck in that crevice between those pieces of
rock."
Dale took the piece with a curiously intent look in his countenance.
Then, half aloud: "I could have taken an oath that I laid the paper on
that--"
He looked hastily round, for nothing was visible.
"I was going to say on that stone, Saxe," he said, in a low voice.
"I know," replied the boy; "but the stone isn't there, nor the one you
laid upon it."
"There!" cried Dale; "I was sure of it, and you are too. It is very
strange."
"Yes," said Saxe: "somebody's having a game with us, unless Melchior's
right, and there are--"
"Boys who ought to be kicked for being so ridiculously superstitious.
There, let's have a wash in the spring, and then get to our meal. Back
directly, Melchior," he said aloud, quite in his usual voice, as he
passed close by the guide, who was now busy cooking.
Melchior bowed slowly, and went on with his work, patiently preparing
the tea-dinner, and drawing back after the return of the others as if to
leave them to partake of their meal alone.
It was a picturesque sight, and wonderfully attractive to a hungry
boy,--the steaming kettle, the glowing fire lighting up the whole niche;
and, to make the sight more enjoyable, there was the savoury smell, one
which seemed to have had a peculiar effect upon Gros, the mule, for he
had left the patch where he was picking up a good succulent meal, to
draw near and stand blinking his eyes, flapping his long ears, and
staring, till Saxe drove him off as he came to take his place.
"I say," he whispered, "poor old Melk is so upset by what you said that
he is not going to have tea with us."
"Yes, he is," said Dale quietly; and then aloud: "Melchior, I am afraid
I said hastily some words which have wounded your feelings: I beg you
will let me apologise?"
"I accept your apology, herr," said the guide quietly.
"Then we will say no more about it; so come and sit down and join us."
"The herr wishes it?"
"Yes, of course."
Melchior sat down quietly and gravely, and the meal went on without
further reference to the unpleasant incident; but Dale grew eager about
their work on the next day, chatting about the size of the crystals he
had felt, and the difficulties of enlarging the hole so that they could
creep in.
"That can soon be done, herr, if we have fine weather, but there is
lightning over the Blitzenhorn, and that may mean a storm."
"Let's hope not, for though this place is lovely now, it would be very
dreary and cold if it were wet. Now then, let's clear away and get to
sleep, for we have a long day's work before us to-morrow."
The clearance was made, and the fire raked together and made up so that
it might possibly last till morning, and then came the preparation for
sleep.
"We shall divide the night into three watches to-night, Melchior," said
Dale suddenly.
"The herr will keep watch?"
"Yes; for whoever it is that is watching and trifling with us--"
"Then the herr thinks--"
"That we have an enemy hanging about our camp and following us."
"Ah!"
"And that it was he who threw off the rope."
"Then the herr thinks that?"
"Yes, I feel sure now, for I have been thinking it over, and I know that
Melchior Staffeln, the tried old guide, could not possibly have fastened
that rope so that an accident would result."
"The herr gives me hope and life again," said the guide warmly.
"Yes, Melchior, I was all wrong. There--shake hands, man, like we
English do."
"Yes: it is good," said the guide, eagerly doing as he was told.
"Now lie down both of you, and sleep. In three hours I shall call you,
Melchior, and in three more you will come up, Saxe. We may see nothing,
but henceforth we will be on guard."
Ten minutes later the fire was subsiding into a glow. Saxe and the
guide slept, and Dale was keenly awake watching for the kobold who
disturbed their peace.