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. And there arose too, a background of shouts. All this while he was arranging the medicines on the stand and jotting down his instructions on a chart sheet. She breathed deeply, and he breathed sympathetically. These fellows must be right,” he added thoughtfully, “and yet—there’s a mystery somewhere. Sheppard, and neither deserve nor desire your thanks. A day will come when you will thank me. Clotilde’s stunning green eyes were reflected in the gazes of the tender young children, but their faces had been hollow and sunken, their hair matted, and their clothing in bad need of repair.
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