The girl and the boy drew a little nearer to Father Benjamin. Their
faith showed in their eyes, as though nothing ill could befall them
while they were under the guardianship of a priest from the Hospice. The
Augustinian, their actions said, might even halt the blizzard by raising
his hand and commanding it to stop.
But the elderly man, who had spent his life in the mountains and knew
the real danger of such storms, cried out in fear. His fright
communicated itself to the woman ... and spread from her to the boy and
girl, who would not have been afraid at all had they not seen for
themselves that their elders were frightened.
Father Benjamin took instant, firm command.
"Have you never before seen snow fall?" he thundered. "Be quiet and act
sensibly!"
"Yes, Holy Father," the elderly man said humbly.
Father Benjamin turned to Franz. "I will guide. You bring up the rear
with Caesar."
Franz fought to keep his voice from trembling as he replied, "Yes,
Father Benjamin."
He let the others pass and fell in behind. He knew that Father Benjamin
wanted him there to keep the little group from straying or straggling,
and he was proud to be trusted with such responsibility. At the same
time, he was more than a little afraid.
The winter snows in Dornblatt had been fierce enough; often it was
impossible to see the house next to that in which one lived. But the
snows of Dornblatt had remained within the scope of human understanding,
and humans had always been able to cope with the worst of them.
This was a wild beast uncaged, a snarling, raging thing that had burst
the bonds of control the instant it began. With the blizzard only
minutes old, already they were walking in snow that came halfway to the
tops of their shoes. Though each person stayed as close as possible to
the one in front of him, Franz could barely make out the form of Father
Benjamin, who was leading the way.
He had a sudden, terrifying thought that they were just mites, specks of
dust in an inferno of snow. The mad wind would whirl them away as it
whirled the snowflakes. When the wind finally lulled and dropped them
somewhere in the immensity of the Alps, they would still be as nothing,
for a human being is small indeed compared with a mountain.
Resolutely Franz put such fears behind him. Man's body, and that alone,
had never conquered the Alps or anything else. Man's spirit was the true
conqueror, and spirit would see them safely through this blizzard. The
thought gave back to him his old serenity and calmness.
The girl, walking in front of him, slipped and almost went down. Franz
caught her elbow and helped her regain her balance.
"Careful, little sister!" he shouted, to make himself heard above the
wind. "The snow is a cold bed!"
She turned and gave him a grateful smile, and Franz knew that his
recovered confidence had imparted itself to her. They hurried to catch
up with the others, who had gained a few feet. Franz looked
questioningly at Father Benjamin.
Fortunately, the wind was blowing up the mountain, so that they did not
have to fight it. But cross currents and gusty little side eddies blew
the snow in every imaginable direction. There was no landmark whatever;
even the peaks were hidden. Franz, who had been this way many times,
knew that he himself hadn't the faintest notion as to whether or not
they were on the path. Did Father Benjamin know?
Again he put the thought behind him. Regardless of anything else, Father
Benjamin must _act_ as though he knew. Just as he had exploded the
travelers' fears with the thunder of his words when the blizzard began,
so he must now inspire them with confidence by showing confidence
himself. To do otherwise meant panic, and panic meant that all were
lost.
Father Benjamin plowed through a knee-deep drift and halted. The others
grouped around him.
"We will have a short rest." Even though the Augustinian had to shout,
he seemed as serene and unruffled as though he were addressing some of
his fellow priests at the Hospice. "This is the first snow and we may
very well get along without skis. But it is foolish to exhaust
ourselves."
"_Salvezza!_" the old man moaned. "Salvation! Or shall we find any?"
The woman said, but with no great conviction, "This good Father will
lead us safely to the Hospice."
"He cannot!" asserted the old man.