"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 hoa.r.s.ely. "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 pa.s.sed 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 creva.s.ses were pa.s.sed, 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 pa.s.sed, 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 superst.i.tions of the people among whom he was raised."

"I suppose not," said Saxe thoughtfully.