Dale's first act, as soon as he caught sight of Saxe, was to clasp him
to his breast in a brotherly hug, while, unable to control his feelings,
Saxe responded.
"Oh, my dear boy--my dear lad!" cried Dale; "I was heartbroken about
you."
Saxe tried to reply, but no words would come.
"Thank Heaven you are safe!" cried Dale. "Eh? Ah, Melchior, my man, I
had forgotten you!"
He held out both his hands to the guide, who took a step forward and
folded Dale to his breast.
"I wish to goodness they would not do that," said the Englishman to
himself: "it seems so unmanly." But he smiled the next moment, as he
recalled that he had set the example by hugging Saxe; and then he drew
back, for fear that the old peasant Andregg and his man Pierre should
follow suit.
"Why, Saxe, my lad, I thought you and Melchior were buried beneath the
snow."
"That's what we thought about you, herr," cried Melchior. "We have been
searching for you."
"I searched for you both for over an hour," said Dale, "and then in
despair I went off for help."
"But how was it we did not see you?" cried Saxe, who now, in his great
joy, began to recover voice and strength.
"The snowfield is great," said Melchior gravely. "Several people might
be on it at once, hidden from each other by the rough piles of ice and
snow; and the young herr forgets that he was buried long beneath, and
that it was, I dare say, nearly an hour before I struggled out and found
him. How did you, sir, get on?"
"Ah! that I can hardly tell you," said Dale. "It was all one roar and
rush and confusion; but I was kept at the top all the way, and never
quite covered by the snow."
"All the way, herr?"
"Yes. I cannot tell how far it was; but I seemed to glissade right down
into the valley, where I was fixed for a few minutes right up to my
armpits. Then I got free, and began to struggle back up the snow in
search of you, till, quite in despair at not finding you, I went for
help."
"It was no wonder that the herr did not find us," said Melchior. "He
was borne to the bottom, and we were shut in not so very far from the
top. But, there, our lives are all preserved; and we thank you,
neighbours, for coming to our help."
"Glad to help thee, Melchior, my brave man," said old Andregg, in his
rough patois; "and I shall be glad to see thee give up this wild
mountain life and become a quiet peasant like myself."
"Well," cried Dale, "what is to be done? Can you walk back to
Andregg's?"
This after the boy had briefly given him an account of his adventures.
"Yes, I think so," said Saxe. "I seem to be rested now."
"No!" cried Melchior emphatically. "The young herr cannot walk another
step to-night. We must stay here."
"You are right," said Dale. "We have brought up food and blankets. Now
you talk like this, I begin to feel how exhausted I am."
"Then we will make camp here, herr," said Melchior. And the fire being
replenished by Pierre, the little party were soon seated around,
partaking of the simple fare provided; and Saxe, in his utter freedom
from care, ate with an appetite which astounded himself, as he thought
of the despair and misery of a short time before.
Then as they talked, Melchior smiled as he listened to the boy's
remarks; for they were confused, and he was quite in ignorance of how
far he was from the site of the snow slip. To him the perils of that
day had occurred close by, and he did not realise the fact that the
guide had carried him for hours upon his back.
"It does not matter," Melchior said to himself. "Why should I tell him?
Some day he may find out. If I tell him now, he will think I am
seeking for a reward."
The meal, though, was not altogether pleasant to Saxe, who found that
every time he raised his eyes Pierre was staring at him in the peculiar
apathetic way which had irritated him so before. No matter how he
changed his position, no matter what he did, the feeling was strong upon
him that old Andregg's servant was watching him; and the stronger this
idea grew upon him the more he felt compelled to turn and look back,
just as if the eyes of the sour-looking fellow had some peculiar
fascination which he could not resist.
But even this came to an end; for, refreshed by the food, and after
submitting to an examination by Melchior, who wished to make sure that
his feet were not frozen in the least, a peculiar sensation of drowsy
warmth came over the boy so strongly, that one minute he was trying to
paint his sufferings on the snow when he felt that he had lost Dale, the
next he was lying back wrapped in a blanket, breathing hard and sleeping
as soundly in that dwarf pine-wood on the ledge of the huge mountain as
if he had been back in London, with policemen regularly parading the
street outside.
It was a heavy, dreamless sleep, that lasted till long after sunrise,
when he opened his eyes to find that he was the last to wake up, that
the fire was burning merrily, the sun shining, and nature looking more
beautiful than ever. They were evidently waiting for him to wake and
join them, for the rough meal was spread and the party talking quietly--
all but Pierre, who lay on the ground upon his chest, resting his chin
in his hands, and staring hard in one direction with his heavy,
glowering eyes.
That direction was at Saxe, who turned away angrily as once more he
found himself the object of the man's unpleasant stare.
"I can't make a fuss about it and complain," he said to himself: "it
would seem to be so stupid." For what could he say, save that the man
stared at him in a dull, heavy way? Dale would reply that there was no
harm in that, and he would look weak. But all the same the man's stare
worried him and spoiled his breakfast, making him feel irritable and
morose all the way back, till they reached Andregg's home in the valley,
where Dale announced that they would have a few days' rest.