Montressor’s guests were. She went on from street to street, and all the glory of London had departed. . Another car followed, a rusty Cadillac sedan full of kids. —There, Mr. There was no railway beyond Frutigen in those days; they sent their baggage by post to Kandersteg, and walked along the mule path to the left of the stream to that queer hollow among the precipices, Blau See, where the petrifying branches of trees lie in the blue deeps of an icy lake, and pine-trees clamber among gigantic boulders. Young people ignore them until they find themselves up against them. The both of them puttering about the tidy two-story house, Lucy would serve them both steaming cups of tea in the front parlor. No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem.
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