He was not long kept in doubt, for the party, whoever they were, came on rapidly now, at the sight of the fire, the dim lanthorns dancing and swinging about in the darkness below, and coming nearer and nearer, as their bearers ascended the mountain side towards the patch of wood, till all at once one of them came forward at a run into the light shed by the fire.

"Melchior!" he panted: "you here! Where is young Saxe?"

"Mr Dale!" cried the guide wonderingly; and at his cry Saxe came creeping out from the shelter of boughs, and struggled to his feet to utter a cry of astonishment as he saw the figure of his mountaineering friend standing full in the fire's light.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

SAXE HAS AN ANTIPATHY.

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 appet.i.te 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.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

SAXE SEES A KOBOLD.

"I don't approve of our hunt for crystals to turn out such a failure,"

said Saxe one day, after they had had their rest and spent another fortnight in the valley, making short excursions in various directions.

"It is disappointing," replied Dale; "but we did succeed, though we have lost the fruit of our success."

"Well, that's the part of it that I don't like," said Saxe. "It seems so precious hard. But you will not give up yet!"

"No: I propose staying another month, or till the weather breaks up. If we begin to have rain and snow, we shall soon want to get down to the lower grounds."

"That is what always puzzles me," said Saxe; "for with the mountains rising up all round us, we seemed to be on the low grounds here--down in this valley."

"You forget that we are between five and six thousand feet above sea-level here."

"Between five and six thousand!" said Saxe thoughtfully. "Six thousand; and the cross of Saint Paul's is only four hundred and four. Why, this valley here is nearly fifteen times as high, and it does not seem high a bit!"

"But it is my lad, all the same."

There was a few minutes' silence, and then Saxe began again:

"You win not give up the crystal hunting?" he said.

"Yes, I think I shall--at all events, for this year. You see it is such a matter of accident. You found that partly--well, by accident."