Citation
Three Vassar girls in Switzerland

Material Information

Title:
Three Vassar girls in Switzerland
Creator:
Champney, Elizabeth W ( Elizabeth Williams ), 1850-1922
Champney, James Wells, 1843-1903 ( Illustrator )
Estes & Lauriat ( Publisher )
Place of Publication:
Boston
Publisher:
Estes & Lauriat
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
239 p. : ill., map ; 22 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Sisters -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Tourists -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Voyages and travels -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Mountains -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Judges -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Courtship -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Wealth -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Description and travel -- Juvenile fiction -- Switzerland ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1890
Genre:
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Map on endpapers printed in green ink.
Statement of Responsibility:
by Elizabeth W. Champney ; illustrated by "Champ" and other distinguished artists.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026625481 ( ALEPH )
ALG3809 ( NOTIS )
08322221 ( OCLC )
04023111 ( LCCN )

Downloads

This item has the following downloads:


Full Text
od












RCORIEH :
0 Zug: =
Lucerne }

a,
Neuchatel D ;
g
‘Alte.
¢ Fripoury only ape

Bre
PER, NZ

Interlaken










al
Chur

fastanne



IG .
NStGutthara
at ie ter
Gammi Pass Z
Ston : 3.
Shnpiah Pass -
<< vi Sy
9
see ert & at
i . Matlerhorn : of
: }eRptouny : he gtitonts Rosa P Wy
Ment Blanc 3 Ga-Sc Bernard 4° aS
Monte R sie I
East Haenine Lysicam mx Trons
ices 14 148 E 14 237 13974 Fa)!
ees IN atin. Castor x

SS Avan eee ee me if
a Ao ree ee ir : nen eb ia Ss ee

ie aie 5 a {lt i see
Soe ‘e me SN ea



Dent Blanche N-New Weighorn
1a. 4@)





Ws a 4
Z 25 ah Cae
Siew ANN

12170



: The Baldwin Library i
* | University














0
5

|
lh
q|






je













Zp zi eat "CH a = : Ly
et Pe ee, ,
; ye i | \ iS MM YO

Ne Zy ‘Z Fa



) aly






\e= ae
Wes \y eee
\ AZ <-Sa MATTERNMORN
eithorn: ee ———————— : Uae FEE SY,
12°76 Wi os Ta, = SS







un

se
ta

































Â¥Gvrat meay, WZarIRMAT? ,
MISQJABEL STocsHoRN
wor. Kateeet 2.90 ‘luoss, Sas
Uy no INovet : : 12907 11.033) no) a
‘ : arte)
Ze Ee ONE ;
il
é iy
/ Wi NY Yi Yj»
YEN AY HES Mf WW YY yy Uj WW
WY WA HUY YY
WO Lae } YI
DIT oer MM WY) CMM





Be

Ulead nud
ce dedeg
Abrouy due





THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.



THREE VASSAR GIRLS.

BY














ELIZABETH W. CHAMPNEY.
ae

THREE VASSAR GIRLS ABROAD.
THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN ENGLAND.
THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SOUTH AMERICA.
THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN ITALY.
THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE.
THREE VASSAR GIRLS AT HOME.
THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN FRANCE.
THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN RUSSIA AND TURKEY.
THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

Me

ae

ESTES & LAURIAT, Publishers,

BOSTON, MASS.







*

=
Ves Se (UC
(Sy a

= es ee



=

aii
F SE

= eo
= —— - : =
?

Shs
ii
S=—

l

gl
ii,





















































































Ll

1.
z a
é =
; SF;
=

|

SSS SIS
5 = SSS

atej see SS

a
ine SRA NES | RONEN
RS = SERS

NSS —— = = = z z
2S SIENA eh) Se = : : 2 ,

a WS

Wn



AT THE ALTDORF FESTIVAL,



THREE VASSAR GIRLS

SWITZERLAND.

BY

BEWARE A TE Were ries Vi INGa

AUTHOR OF “A NEGLECTED CORNER OF EUROPE,” ‘“‘ THREE VASSAR GIRLS ABROAD,”
“THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN ENGLAND,” ETC.

ILLUSTRATED BY ‘‘CHAMP”

AND OTHER DISTINGUISHED ARTISTS.

BOSTON:

PSE Ss & LAURIAT,
PUBLISHERS.



COPYRIGHT, 18g0,
By ESTES & LAURIAT.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.



CHAPTER

18

II.
rie
IV.

VI.
VII.
VII.
IX.

XI.
XII.
XIII.
XIV.

CONTEN IS:

A SKELETON KEy AND Marcaret’s MISTAKE
ANNETTE’S REVENGE .

GENEVA .

THE Counress

THE JuNcrRAU AND THE OBERLAND
LucERNE

Tur TELL FESTIVAL

Our Lapy oF PovERTY

Lire at THE ALM

Losr

THe WaGNER FEsTIVAL. BAVARIA .

THE Farry Cow.

THE Great St. BERNARD AND Mont BLaNnc

Tue FETE DES VIGNERONS

PAGE

Il
20
34
51
72
go

. 106
nes

. 143

5 GF
. 192
. 205

- 222







ILLUSTRATIONS.

At the Altdorf Festival .

Margaret. .

Annette . ‘

The Castle of Mec ;

St. Cecilia as Mediator .

Grandfather Houghton .

A Swiss Mountain Torrent .

An Alpine Waterfall .

“ Do You want to go to Prison or to Switzer-
land?” essere en hats

Grandfather Houghton in Alpine Costume

* Mer de Glace,” Mont Blanc.

Alice Newton . ; :

The Girl in the Hading’ Veil .

Calumet and Hecla .

Lord Highnose

Mr. Walker . e

The Hotel Neuchatelois

The Prisoner of Chillon .

The Countess

Lajos .

“Calumet and Hecla is up!”.

Peasant Waitress . :

The Dent du Midi from above the Lake of

Geneva :

The Countess enthroned :

The Entomologist receives the Apology

A Metamorphosed Native of Interlaken .

The Jungfrau Fi

The Judge salutes the janetc :

- 65

PAGE

I2
13
15
21
24
.
27

31
37
39
41
42
43

45
46
47
52
54

57-

58

59

68
76
77
78

“ Positively Fwiteful!” .

The Wellhorn and Wetterhorn

Mr. Barney Jones in Difficulties .
Pilatus, Lake of Lucérne

Hotel National, Lucerne

Stock Quotations .

Annette takes her Departure .
Bridge of Lucerne 3
Margaret and Alice discuss Lajos
The Rigi, from Lucerne.

A Swiss Maiden :
Tell’s Chapel, Lake of Lucerne .
Costume of Peasant of Unterwalden
Railway up the Rigi . :
The Comforts of Donkey-riding .
On the Brink of a Precipice

The Matterhorn

Katchen .

Yakob Lochwalder

A Goatherd of the Zermatt Valley
Yakob accepts his Relatives .

The Accident on the Matterhorn
The Real Thing at last .

The Great Aletsch Glacier .

Mother Lochwalder . ,
Rescuing Party on the Matterhorn .
On the Matterhorn

Abbey of Einsiedeln .

Frau Selig .

Minna

- 166
. 169

PAGE

82
85
88
gt
93
96
99

. 102
- 109
. IIL
Lis

. 114
. 116

. 170

- 179
. 182

PISBe



10 - ILLUSTRATIONS.

&

PAGE
A Devotee of Wagner . . . . . . . . 184
Listening to “ Parsifal,” No.1 . . 2+. . 185
Listening to “ Parsifal,” No.2. . . . . 185
NVitseNewtongern ets men eect nian ates Nel S 7
On the Ficht_lgebirge . 2. . 2. . . 188
Nicolasey Ct een TO”,
A Peasant of Zermatt . . . ‘ - . 199
A Peasant Woman of the Zermatt + Valley PeveR OL
The Great St. Bernard . . . e200)

ee the Brave Dog of St. Bernard . . . 213

FRhenbar oO nvemaac cae canst eee
Baroness of Hohenschlosse

“To think that I was like that! ”
A Student of Berne .

High Street, Berne

Katchen Americanized .

‘At the Festival

Taking it all in
Vintage Festival, Vevey
Kisfaludy Janos

PAGE

5 BG
. 217
. 218
220
B22
. 227
. 228
. 229
ol aR
» 233



THREE VASSAR GIRLS

IN-

SWITZERLAND.

2-093 00 —_—_.

CEA aT Ra cle

A SKELETON KEY AND MARGARET'S MISTAKE.

grand-niece of a baroness.”

The speaker was Annette Stauffer, a Swiss girl, ex-seam-
stress and waitress in Margaret’s home. She spoke to herself, ex-
citedly, as she rapidly packed her trunk, for she had just given a her
situation.

“Shall I furnish the missing link in the chain of evidence, and
prove her the child of one of the proudest houses of Austria? No;
she is arrogant enough as she is. She has treated me as if I were ie
earth to be trodden upon. She is a bundle of selfishness, through and
through. She cares for no one but herself. If it were Miss Boylston,
so kind and thoughtful of others, so gentle and so generous, I would
work my fingers to. stubs to serve her; but My Lady Disdain, zever.”

_ Annette was wrong. Margaret was not wholly selfish. She pos-
sessed magnificent qualities, capabilities of self-sacrifice and devotion ;
but these were as yet undeveloped, and hidden under the crust of a
love of ease. It was true that she was haughty, and apt to exhibit
a fine scorn of everything mean and base; but the scorn was more
frequently excited by moral meanness than by low rank in the social
‘scale. Rank of intellect and heroism commanded an almost over-

| ND to think that by a word it is in my power to prove her the

It



12 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

weening admiration from her, and it was her special heartburn that
none of her own family had distinguished themselves in any way.
She would have liked to be a leader in society for some real merit of
_ her own, or of her ancestors; and she was a leader among her friends
and associates both at home and at col-
lege, for the good and sufficient reason
of ability. The name of Margaret Duf-
fey figured as President of the Phila-
lethean Society, President of the Young
Women’s Christian Association, Presi-
dent of the Tennis Club, of the Dra-
matic Association, of her class, Senior
Editor of the A/zscellany, and Chairman
of the Executive Committee of half a
dozen other organizations. It was ‘a
vexation to her that it was such a ple-
beian name — Margaret Duffey! It had
a genuine Irish sound. One would im- -
agine, on reading it, that it belonged to
a laundress. She had said this before
Annette, and the sewing-woman’s gray
eyes had snapped viciously. “She de-
spises all the laboring class,” Annette
Fe ae thought, ‘‘and me with the rest.” But
Margaret was not thinking of Annette

at all. ‘What makes it all the more vexatious,” she added, speaking
to her friend Cecilia Boylston, familiarly called Saint, who was visiting
her that summer, ‘‘is the fact that it is not really our name at all.
Grandfather came to this country a political refugee, and changed
his name to preserve his zzcognzto. He might have chosen a pleas-
anter appellation, when he had so unlimited a choice. When father
was a boy he was told our real name; but would you believe it, he





A SKELETON KEY AND MARGARET'S MISTAKE. Deas

attached so little importance to it that he forgot it. He can only
remember that it.sounded like Duffey, but was more aristocratic.” |

‘Did your grandfather leave no relatives in Europe?” Cecilia
asked, while Annette, who was sewing in the corner, pricked up
her ears. .

“Yes; there was a little sister Margaret, of whom he was very
fond. When I was born he insisted that father should name me for
her, and he wrote to her of my
birth. Grandfather was an old
man then, and when the reply to
the letter came from my great-
aunt he lay on his death-bed.
He charged my father to keep
it for me, as it might prove to
my advantage some day.”

“Surely, Margaret, this let-
ter must give you all the infor.
mation you wish.”

“Information! That is just
what it does not give. It is full
cf expressions of affection for
her dear elder brother, for the
nephew whom she had never
seen, and for the little name-
sake, who, she hopes, will some
day visit her god-mother. But
the letter is dated, simply, ‘ The ANNETTE,

Riffel, and signed ‘Greta.’ I

know that The Riffel is in Switzerland; but father has an impression
that we are not of Swiss extraction. I have a picture of the Weier-
' burg, which I fancy looks like the home which she: describes.
Annette listened greedily. She longed to see the letter of which





14 : THREE VASSAR GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND.

Margaret spoke, for her own home was near Zermatt and the
Riffelburg. “Perhaps I knew her great-aunt, or at. least, could help
to find her,” she said to herself; but she did not mention this to
Margaret, or ask to see the letter. This was not her way of
procedure.
She fancied that when she was not present people must be talking
about her, and she listened at keyholes to learn what they were saying.
Pierre, the gardener, meant, simply, that she had a suspicious nature,
when he remarked that Annette was “naturally surreptitious”; but
the statement was perfectly true as it stood. It was not possible for
Annette to be frank and open-handed. She was frightfully cross-eyed,
and watched you narrowly, when she appeared to be interested in
something in the opposite direction, and this physical defect seemed
to have affected her character. She had a cross-eyed way of accom-
plishing all her designs. She was consumed with curiosity to ascer-
tain Margaret’s ancestry, and she would ascertain it; but Margaret
should never know that it interested her in the least. So she sewed
the ruche into Margaret’s best gown, and thought with glee of the
skeleton key in her pocket, and that she would have two good hours
to rummage for that letter, while the young ladies were at the lawn
party, for Mrs. Duffey was away from home. She needed all the time;
for it was not in the little secretary through which she looked first,
nor in the safe under the stairs with the silver, nor in the japanned
tin box in which Mr. Duffey kept his stocks and bonds, or in any of
the bureau drawers, or behind the sliding panel over the mantel, a
secret hiding-place where Mrs. Duffey kept her jewels, which Annette
had discovered the second day after her arrival; but it dropped at last
out of the atlas where Margaret had carelessly left it in searching for
The Riffel. Annette sat down and read eagerly. The letter was
written in a delicate foreign script, in Austrian-German, very easy

for Annette, but puzzling for Margaret to decipher. It ran as _

follows : —













































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE CASTLE OF WEIERBURG.







A SKELETON KEY AND MARGARE?T’S MISTAKE. 17

“ RIFFELHAUS, SWITZERLAND, July, ——




_ “My Dear BrotHer,—I cannot tell you how overjoyed I am to
_ receive your letter. I had not heard from you for so long, that my
eart imagined many tragedies. And so I am a great-aunt? That
-sounds almost like a grandmother. The honor comes to me early,
owing to the great difference in our ages. Only a child when you
went away to America, but I remember the sorrowful day very clearly
still. There are some things which are so branded into our memo-
ries that we can never forget them.

‘But the little girl! I am glad that she has come, and that you
have named her for me. My god-daughter as well as grand-niece.
Some day, now that our calamities seem to be overpast, she must
come to her Aunt Greta. I shall not be such a very old woman when
she is grown. I hope she will want to come tome. Tell her the way
to the old home beside the mountain, with the window overhanging
the precipice, from which they say you used to fish for swallows, with
a fish-line, when a boy. Tell her all your old haunts, and I will show
them to her. How you used to love to hang over that balcony! I
remember that once you rescued a little dog that had fallen into the
valley. You made a slip-noose, the loop of which was a handkerchief,
and, passing it over his body, drew him up to your window. A few
days since, I saw a peasant girl of Zermatt draw a lamb out of the
torrent which ran under her balcony, in much the same way, and the
action reminded me so of you that I brought her home with me as
my maid” —

%
:
.
:
é
C

There had been something familiar to Annette in the story as
Margaret had told it; but with the incident of the lamb it all came
back to her. Without any doubt, the Austrian Baroness who spent
that same summer, eighteen years ago, at the Riffelhaus, with whom
Annette, then a young peasant girl, served as maid, was Margaret’s
great-aunt. She remembered rescuing the lamb, and that she did it,



18 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

not from any feeling of mercy, but because she was fond of roast
mutton. To make assurance doubly sure, there was the Baroness’s
crest on the waxen seal, so indistinct that Margaret had not made it
out, but Annette could trace the firebrand held by a gauntleted hand.

And how like Margaret was to her god-mother, —the same impe-
rious manners. Strange that she had not noticed the likeness before,
—and as fond of riding on horse back. So absorbed was Annette in
_ the letter that she did not hear a light step on the stair, or look up
until Margaret stood before her and snatched the letter from her hands
in a rage of indignation. “What do you mean by reading my letters?”
she exclaimed. “How dare you? And my desk open! How did
you manage that? What? A skeleton key! Annette, you are a
thief.” | |

Annette sprang to her feet, the color flaming into her pale face.

“Tam not. What have I stolen? Look in my trunk, look in my
room, look everywhere.” ;

“I do not care to look. I am not one of the prying kind.”

“T demand it. You called me a thief. Prove that it is so, or else
you lie. What have you ever missed?”

The two angry women stood facing each other as Cecilia entered
the room with a calm, ‘‘ What is the matter?”

Margaret showed the skeleton key, and told her story.

“ Appearances are against. you, Annette,” said Cecilia. “What
explanation have you to offer? What possible need has an honest
woman of a skeleton key?”

“My brother was a locksmith; he made it for me, so 1 need not
trouble myself with a great many keys,—one for my trunk, another
for my room, another for my bureau.”

“Very convenient; and equally so for all of our locks, I presume.”
This from Margaret, in her most sneering accents.

“Be itso. Iask again, what have you ever missed? I have been
with you four years. I could with that key unlock your safe, your



A SKELETON KEY AND MARGARET'S MISTAKE. 19

father’s money-box, your mother’s jewel-case, everything,— that is
true, — but what has been stolen since I lived with you — nothing —”

“Ts this true?” Cecilia asked.

“T believe it is,” Margaret replied. ‘I have been too hasty, and I
apologize. You are no thief, Annette; but you are what I despise
just as much, —a prying, spying, suspicious eavesdropper. No; you
needn’t speak up. I stumbled over you the other day, in the entry,
when I opened the door more quickly than you expected. You were
_ listening, and you can’t deny it. I absolve you from any intention of
a stealing. It was probably curiosity, and nothing else, which led you
" to ransack my desk and read my letters. If not, what motive had you
for spying into my affairs? Are you a special detective?”

_ There was only one way for Annette to vindicate herself, and she
told a part of the truth.

‘“T heard what you said this morning, Miss Margaret, of a letter

_ from your great-aunt, from The Riffel. You know I come from that
region; and I wanted to see if possibly I knew her, and I found
| that I did.”
“What, you knew my Aunt Greta?” Margaret exclaimed excitedly.
“Tell me about her! Is she alive? Can I find her?”
It was Annette’s turn to triumph. “I knew her, I could help you
find her; but you have called me a thief, you have resented my prying
into your affairs. I will have nothing more to do with them. I leave
your mother’s employ to-day. You may tell her why. But I shall
call, on Saturday, for my wages, and for a recommendation for honesty,
_ Miss Margaret, for honesty, and for minding my own business. Do
you understand?”










20 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

CHAE VER lk

ANNETTE’S REVENGE.

HEN Margaret became sufficiently calm to consider the
matter coolly, she felt that she had made a great mistake in
allowing her temper to make an enemy of Annette.

“My angry passions are always getting me intg trouble,” she said
remorsefully. “1 can never learn to hold my tongue, and count an
hundred. And now I shall never find my fairy god-mother.”

“ Perhaps it was only a piece of bravado on Annette’s part, by way
of revenge.”

“No; she is truthful as well as honest, and not quick at invention.
There was too much genuine triumph in her eyes. I have narrowly
missed a great piece of good fortune.”

“Tf you really regret having spoken as you did, why don’t you go
right to her and apologize?”

“Tt would be of no use. But Saint, dear, she dotes on you; inter-
cede for;me.” :

With many misgivings, Cecilia tapped at Annette’s door. “ Who’s
there?” was the ungracious response; but on hearing Cecilia’s voice,
the maid unbarred the door. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks
swollen; she had been weeping passionately. Cecilia put her arms
about her and gently soothed her. ‘“ Margaret is very sorry,” she said,
after a time. ‘“ Will you not forgive her?” ee
- The girl stiffened instantly. “If Miss Margaret is sorry, why does
she not come and say so?”

“She will, if you will let her—”

ss She can do as she pleases; it makes no difference to me.”







ANNETTE'S REVENGE. 21

“But it makes a difference to Margaret. She has a good heart,
and regrets that she has caused you pain.”

Annette sniffed scornfully. Cecilia remained with her some time
longer, but could only make her agree not to leave the house until
Mrs. Duffey’s return that evening.

There was a family council on the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Duffey.
Seated around the library table, they discussed the matter in all its
bearings, while Annette
listened in the entry.

Mr. Duffey was of the
opinion that the girl’s

BERS
ZG




;
freaks were not worthy . Ji SSG
of consideration. “I have Mis, . ‘ ANS 7, hj

. lived without my precious Z ee
relative all my life, and I (iJ oe Qi
can do without her now. iO ro
If she had cared for me a
in all these years, she en MH
might have looked me a
up.” MU il

‘But her kind letter
was never answered, was ;
it, Theodore?” asked gen- ST. CECILIA AS MEDIATOR.
tle Mrs. Duffey. “She
must have thought that it never reached its destination, or that we
did not care to keep up friendly relations.”

“It was never answered, because, when it arrived, father was too
feeble in mind to attend to it, and he was the only one who knew the
address. She was only staying for a short time at the Riffel Hotel;
and I have no idea where the old home that she speaks of is. It may
be in the neighborhood, and it may be miles away. It is my opinion
that Annette knows nothing about the matter.”





22 i THREE VASSAR: GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“It seems strange to me, father,” said Margaret, “that you never
inquired more about your family from grandpa.”

“ Father very early showed me that such inquiries were useless.
‘I am a proscribed man, by no fault of my own, under penalty of
death,’ he confided to me. ‘I have no longer any country or antece-
dents, no home or family, except that which I can found here. The
past is closed behind us; let us look only to the future.” If I had
known more, I might have endangered his life; but having no secrets
in my possession, I could not divulge them. I have reason to believe
that letters not unfrequently passed between my father and his sister;
but hers were always carefully destroyed. This is the only one which
has been preserved.”

“ And this looks forward to a happy meeting with the little Greta,

‘now that our calamities are overpast.’”

“T used to think she might come to this country,” said Mr. Duffey;
“and I confess there was no great pleasure in the anticipation. After
I had the honor of so respectable a connection as with your mother’s
family, I used to wonder what my honored father-in-law would say if
a Nihilistic female with a carpet-bag full of dynamite should some day
dismount from an omnibus at our doors, and exclaim, ‘I am your long-
lost aunt!’ I tell you what, Greta, you had better let well enough
alone. Your grees -aunt is an unknown auanbey, and we are very
happy as we are.’

“But your father was not a criminal,’ Mrs. Duffey remarked.
“He was a perfect gentleman, Theodore; and my father respected
him highly. Whatever his misfortune, it was no fault of his, I am
sure.”

, “And if aunt is an unknown quantity, there is the possibility that
_ she may be a lady of rank,” Margaret suggested, “a baroness, per-
haps—” (There was a slight noise in the entry.) “And at any rate,
we shall ascertain what our real name is; and it can’t be worse than
Duffey.”



ANNETTE'’S REVENGE. 28

‘““There is only one chance out of a million of your drawing a
rize,” Mr. Duffey insisted, practically. ‘ Suppose you discover some
ery undesirable relatives, if not actual criminals,— poor, ignorant
easants. This Aunt Greta is an old woman by this time. Imagine
er poverty-stricken, disagreeable, diseased —”

Then for an instant Margaret showed her better nature. ‘In that
ase, father, is there no duty laid on us? We have enough and to
pare. Is it not dishonest for us to leave a relative in possible





Mr. Duffey looked at his daughter in surprised admiration. “ And
_ if she needs more than money? I could furnish that,—but if she
needs personal care and attention?”

“I think you would find that I would not fail.” Margaret spoke
modestly but firmly; but Annette in the entry gave so loud a sniff of
scornful doubt, that Mrs. Duffey started.

Did you hear that noise? It reminded me of a snake in the
rass.” :

‘More likely a rat in the arras, @ Za Hamlet,” replied Margaret,
ointing significantly at the entry door. No one sprang to open it;
Il were agreed that the best policy now was conciliation.

‘‘And do you agree with your daughter’s sentiments?” asked Mr.
Duffey.

“Certainly,” replied his wife. ‘Only prove that she is your aunt,
nd I will receive any one.”

“J wonder whether the Judge would agree with you.”

“T think it would be better to consult with father, of course,”
said Mrs. Duffey; “he has such excellent judgment.”

It was at once decided to adjourn the council to the home of
Mrs. Duffey’s father.

~The family found Judge Houghton deeply immersed in making
jottings from his scrap-book collection of the “Doings of the New
York Geographical Society.” So absorbed was he that, ordinarily







24 THREE VASSAR ‘GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

punctilious, he had forgotten to take off his high hat. He greeted
them all effusively, however, and began to talk at once.

“T am arranging for my summer vacation,” he said briskly; “and
Iihave been looking over all the lectures that have been given before
our society. I want to do something this summer that I can utilize
in a lecture, with stereopticon views, at Chickering Hall this winter ;
and I have decided that the Higher Alps are just what I want.
Don’t some of you want to go with me? Mother, here, thinks she

is too old for mountain-





eering.”

“T will go with you,
grandpa,” Margaret spoke
up promptly. ‘At least,
as far as The Riffel, if
that’s in your itinerary.”
GY “The very place to start

Wk

SS
Su
SRS
SSS
=
ee
SS
SSS

S
es

—

\
~S

SS

SN
SS
we =a
=
S

SSS
Se

' taineering: just at the foot
of the Matterhorn and the
Weisshorn and Monte
Rosa, and Mont Blanc
within a stone’s throw, so
to speak.

“Only look at this panorama outlined in Baedeker, of the view
from the Gorner Grat, near the Riffel Hotel, and listen while I read
a description of it from William H. Rideing.

‘““*QOn the one side the broad stream of the Gorner Glacier sweeps
along beneath our feet, and across it rise the huge mountains by which
the ice stream is augmented: Monte Rosa— Queen of the Alps—
with her coronet of peaks; the wedge-like mass of the Lyskamm; the
Snowy Twins (Castor and Pollux); and the long, craggy ridge of the
white-capped Breithorn. Then comes a break, as the eye sweeps over

GRANDFATHER HOUGHTON.

| from for the best moun- .



REN















TOR

a
e
H
Z
2
3

WISS M

Ss

A











ANNETTE'S REVENGE. 27:



the plateau traversed by the well-known Théodule Pass, to rest on the
grandest sight in all the Alps, the marvellous Matterhorn, seen in one







































AN ALPINE WATERFALL.

of its most impressive aspects, — an obelisk of snow-flecked rock, four
thousand feet in height. . Beyond this comes another company of
giants, the peaks from the Dent Blanche to the Weisshorn. There



28 THREE VASSAR GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND.

is no spot in the whole of the Alps, accessible with such ease, which
commands a grander panoramic view; nothing of the kind surpasses
in grandeur and beauty its circle of peaks and glaciers.’

“ There, Margaret, have you followed me carefully, and found all
the names mentioned on the outline ? x

“Yes, grandpa.”

“Well, The Riffel is just the locality for me to take as my centre
of operations. I am glad you have been thinking of the same
place.” ;

“T really think some one ought to go with you and take care of
you, father,” said Mrs. Duffey. “Margaret is just the one. You can
make a great many excursions together. She’s a great walker.”

_“T know it, I know it,” exclaimed the old gentleman in high glee.

“Margaret will have her hands full,” said anxious Mrs. Houghton.
“You are entirely too old, John, to go trampoozling over the moun-
tains, when you might rest your bones comfortably at home.”

“Too old! Look at the other members of the club! I’m an infant
compared with the best travellers.”

“That is true,” replied Margaret; “it is a most venerable assem-
blage. When I look down upon it from the gallery, the bald heads
have the appearance of white stones peeping up above water from a
ford. I often imagine myself skipping from one to the other, across
the entire length of the hall.”

“You dreadful child! Is there no Prophet Elisha, to call down a
troop of bears, to punish such irreverence?”

“No, grandpa; and the bears are too busy, down in Wall Street,
to care for naughty me. But listen “ae we tell you ay I have
decided to go to Switzerland this summer.’

“J did not know you had decided,” said Mr. Duffey. “I thought
it was to be submitted to your Grandfather Houghton; and I am sure
he will disapprove.”

But Judge Houghton, Aeneas posses to some extent, by his



ANNETIE’S REVENGE. 29

own desire to avail himself of so lively a travelling companion, looked
on the scheme with favor.

“We need not commit ourselves to anything,” he said. “ We can
simply find out, or try to find out, the truth. The first thing to do is
to ascertain what Annette really knows. Have you made it up with
her, Margaret?” ; :

“T am afraid not, grandpa. This miserable business has taught
me to try to keep a tighter rein on my temper. I went to her, after

Saint had labored with her, and apologized; but she would not utter
one syllable. I am afraid she will not help us.”



“We will see,” said the Judge. “I'll dine with you to-morrow.
_ Let me deal with her.”
“But will she remain?” asked Margaret. ‘She only promised













Saint to stay until she had spoken with you, mamma.”

: “T have given her no opportunity to speak with me, as yet,” said
_ Mrs. Duffey. “I think we can manage an interview.”

Annette, after her white heat of passion had subsided, was not
anxious to lose her good situation; but her decision that she would
not to carry into effect her threat of leaving the family, did not argue
any forgiveness of Margaret. On the contrary, she was convinced
hat she could better revenge herself by remaining near her, and that
neither the pincers of the Inquisition, nor any amount of kindness,
would either wrest or coax from her the information which was so
much desired. :

It will therefore be readily understood that Judge Houghton, with
all his legal wile and acumen, had a difficult subject to handle.

He began in a conciliatory way, and assumed that Annette would
gladly assist them, for a little compensation.

“You are a good girl, Annette,” he remarked; “and I understand
that you send back a very large proportion of your earnings to your
family in Switzerland. You are doubtless very fond of them. When
do you propose to go back for a visit.”





30 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

Annette answered, very truly, that, much as she desired this, she
was too poor to think of even a steerage passage.

Ah!” exclaimed the delighted strategist. “Then you will be
pleased to learn that I contemplate taking a trip to Switzerland, with
my granddaughter, this summer, and I would be very glad to engage
your services as her maid. All expenses paid, my good Annette, both
going and returning, and a vacation for you, after we are fairly
installed in some pleasant hotel,—a vacation of several weeks, in
which you can visit your family. How would you like that?”

Annette’s eyes shot forth a momentary gleam of pleasure, but a
cold gray sheath of suspicion was instantly drawn over them.

“And in return?” she. asked.

“Oh! In return, you could render my granddaughter any trifling
services she might require, as lady’s maid and companion. You know
the language, and the country, the best routes, the regular fares, and
all that sort of thing. You could be of great service to us in enabling
us to dispense with a courier. And then, another thing, — my grand-
daughter’s main object in visiting Switzerland is to look up her father’s
family. Perhaps you could help us in discovering them.”

“Perhaps? But certainly I could help you, —if I wished. Is that
one of the trifling services of which you spoke, to be included in my
duties as lady’s maid?”

“No, no. That, of course, should have eal compensation. If
you enable us to discover Margaret’s great-aunt, I will pay the pas-
sage of any two of your own relatives who may want to emigrate to
America. Come, now; isn’t that generous?”

“It is sufficiently generous.”

“Then it’s a bargain?”

“ No, sir.”

“What conditions do you ask?”

“JT will not do it on any conditions.”

“Indeed! Highty-tighty, young woman, better think that over



ANNETTE’S REVENGE. 31

again. Do you know I can make you give me this information?
Perhaps you would prefer being committed to prison, to this tour of
which we have just been speaking?”

“No one can compel me to speak; and I can keep my own
counsel.”

“But this isn’t your own counsel. That’s the point. You have,

or pretend to have, valuable knowledge.”
iLudnaye: tits:
“Very well, You have information valu-
able to my client, which you refuse to render.
It is hers by right of law; and the law takes
you in hand in the same way as if you were
. withholding other valuables from her. Now,
what are you going to do about it? Don’t be
_a fool, Annette. Consider your own interests.
Do you want to go to prison, or do you want
to go to Switzerland? Answer me that.”

Annette was a coward. She did not doubt
udge Houghton’s power to imprison her for
ife; and she was just about to surrender,
hen Margaret entered the library, and Judge
_Houghton repeated the alternatives, as he had
et them before the girl.

“No, Annette,” Margaret exclaimed impulsively. “I will not allow
ou to be prosecuted, even if you insist on keeping this secret from
e; but I beg of you to be magnanimous, and to help me find my
aunt. Think how you would feel under the same circumstances.” ,
Annette looked up. Apparently, she was regarding the stuffed owl
n the top of the bookcase; in reality, she was studying Margaret

















“DO YOU WANT TO GO TO
PRISON OR TO SWITZER-
LAND?”

_ “How do you know that you will thank me, when you have found
her? She may not be the grand lady you expect.” -



32 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

‘“Then, so much the more is it a sacred duty on my part. Annette,
I shall never blame you, whatever be the result.”

“ Suppose she is dead, or moved away, so that I cannot find her?”

“T shall not blame you for that, either.”

“Then I call you and Judge Houghton to witness that you bring
it all on yourself; that I did not want to undertake this business, but
that, between you, you make me do it.”

Annette did not yield from any magnanimity. She had no faith
in Margaret’s assurance that she would not be imprisoned if she
persisted in her refusal. Moreover, she had really decided not to aid
in the discovery; but apparent yielding would extricate her from her
present disagreeable position, and give her time to think of some
mode of evading the issue. .

So, while Margaret thanked and praised her effusively, she main-
tained a stony silence, still simulating an intense interest in the
stuffed owl.

“And now,” said Judge Houghton, “that these preliminaries have
been satisfactorily settled, let us proceed to the real matter in hand.
Will you be so good as to tell us, Annette, all that you know of my
granddaughter’s great-aunt? In the first place, how did you happen
to know my granddaughter’s relative? ”

Annette related the circumstances of her engagement as maid.

“And what was the lady’s name?”

Margaret bent forward eagerly. The hated name of Duffey was —
about to be lifted. Annette saw the intense expectation, and she |
could not satisfy it at that moment, if her life had depended upon it.

‘“No,” she exclaimed, a hysterical sob rising in her throat; “not |
now, not now. I have told enough, I have endured enough. I have ©
promised to help you find her; but it must be in my own way. Let me ©
go. Ican stand no more.” And turning abruptly, she left the room.

Judge Houghton looked after her in astonishment, “Well, this is .
a most extraordinary young person!” he exclaimed.





ANNETTE’S REVENGE. Tess

« Annette is peculiar,” Margaret answered. “You have gained a
great concession; and it will not do to press her too far. Let her
take her own way, and we shall lose nothing by it.”

But in her own room Annette was going through another of her
rages. “I never shall tell her, never! If it were Miss Boylston, yes;
but Miss Margaret! I will go to prison first. She thinks, now, that -
her aunt may be poor and mean. Let her torment herself with that
idea. If she only were a beggar, or a cvetin/ She says that she
would accept her, whatever her condition. I would like to see her
put to the test. What would my lady do if she should find that her
relatives were of the peasant class? Her aunt an old crone like my
grandmother, living in a den like our chélet? She thinks that she
would accept the situation, would not be ashamed of her relations, and
would bring the old‘aunt back with her to America. She would do
nothing of the kind. I would ask no sweeter revenge than to see her
look of horror on making a discovery like that.”

Annette paused in her monologue. An electrifying idea had sud-
denly struck her, and she stood transfixed, then clapped her hands
three times over her head, and laughed like a mad woman. She had
found her revenge.



34 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND. —

x

CHAPTER III.
GENEVA,

Within the Switzer’s varied land,
When summer chases high the snow,
You'll meet with many a youthful band
Of strangers wandering to and fro;
Through hamlet, town, and healing bath,
They haste, and rest as chance may call.
No day without its mountain path,
No path without its waterfall.”
Lorp HouGuHTon.

LL were surprised, the next day, to see Annette of her own
accord ask for another interview, and to hear her volunteer
the most helpful information. She said that Margaret’s great-

aunt was known in Zermatt by the name of Madame Lochwalder; but
she, Annette, pretended to suspect that this was an assumed name.
Her real one she professed not to know. She felt sure that she was
still living at Zermatt, for her uncle had mentioned in his last letter
that Madame Lochwalder had bought his mountain chéleé, to be fitted
up as her summer residence, and had engaged him as her head
dairyman. —

A letter was at once dispatched, informing Madame Lochwalder
of her new relatives.

Annette tried her best to get possession of this letter; but Mar-
garet carried it to the post-office and mailed it with her own hands, |
and all Annette could do was to write a letter of explanation, which
she sent by the same mail to her uncle, who was really the son of
Madame Lochwalder.



GENEVA. ; 25



















“J have ascertained,” she wrote, ‘‘that my employer is the son of
your Uncle Jacob, who ran away to America so long ago. They have
grand notions that Jacob was a nobleman in disguise, which will all
be disappointed when they come to see you, with me, as they intend
todo. They are wealthy people; and, though they will.drop you all,
as if you were hot coals, when they see how poor you are, still they
will doubtless leave us the richer for their visit, if only to bribe us not
to follow them to America, and disgrace them by proclaiming our
relationship. Much can be gained from them, if we only manage well
our opportunities. I enclose an answer to a letter which grandmother
will receive from these people. I have written as I thought was best.
It is well that grandmother cannot write, or she would spoil everything
with her goodness of heart. Leave the matter to me. She must not
expect any real kindness from these new relatives; they will despise
us, and be ashamed of us.” .
It had first occurred to Annette to tell her uncle the truth, and
admit that she was playing a clever deception for their own benefit;
but on reflection she was sure that her family were too honest to join
her in such a plot, and that even if they had been so unprincipled as
to be willing to play their parts, they would be more naturally carried
out, and with less risk of detection, if they really believed in the
relationship. Madame Lochwalder, it happened, had a brother who
had emigrated long before this to America, an this circumstance
aided in carrying out her scheme. /
The letter which she had enclosed in her own, and had sent to
Switzerland, came back to Margaret in due time.
It read as follows : —

‘ZERMATT, April.
“My Dear Granp-Nisce,—I am rejoiced to find you, after all
these years. I have long felt that my brother must have died, since I
no longer heard from him. It is strange that his son did not receive
my letters. I am glad that you are coming to Switzerland. You will



36 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

find your relatives glad to welcome you. Perhaps we shall induce
you to remain with us. I long ago decided that if I could ever dis-
cover my brother’s descendants I would share with them my earthly
possessions while I live, and leave them my little estate when I die.
Iam an old woman, and cannot live many years longer. I trust you
will come very soon, to
“Your affectionate aunt,
“ MARGARET LOCHWALDER.”

This letter decided them all, or would have decided them, if there
had been any hesitation about the journey to Switzerland.

From this time forward everything favored the trip. Cecilia Boyl-
ston, a former Vassar girl, who had studied music in Germany after
her graduation, and had taught in Boston since her return, had
decided, previously to the events just related, to attend the Wagnerian
festival to be celebrated that summer at Baireuth. She was readily
persuaded that to go wa Switzerland was really the most direct route,
and gladly joined the party. Grandpa Houghton renewed his youth,
and laid in a small library of Alpine literature to be read during the
voyage, including all the guide-books on Switzerland, from Wagner to
Murray, and accounts of the travels of noted mountaineers. (As these
were principally in German, he trusted to having them translated by
Margaret.) Several volumes of the Alpine Journal with the doings of
the English Alpine Club, Mr. Whymper’s account of his long-con-
tinued siege of the Matterhorn, Professor Tyndall’s “ Scrambles,”
Agassiz for geology, and Ruskin for art, with many other books, were
added to the collection.

_ Besides the library, he purchased a large stock of articles likely to
serve him in the Alps. No prospective bride ever enjoyed the shop-
ping necessary for the preparation of her évousseaw more than Judge
Houghton the buying of his mountain outfit. There was a Kodak
camera and other photographing appliances, an Arctic sleeping-bag, a











GENEVA. 37

spirit-lamp, and (though he was politically and practically a prohibi-
tionist) a flask of spirits, a rifle for shooting chamois, remedies for
_chilblains, blue-glass spectacles against snow glare, and ice-spurs to
steady his footsteps. That he did not make himself as ridiculous an
object as Daudet’s Tartarin, was simply owing to the fact that he
proposed purchasing his alpenstock, pickaxe, rope, lantern, etc., in
Geneva. The books were packed in
a steamer trunk and slipped under
Judge Houghton’s berth, for ready
reference; but stormy weather kept
him uncomfortable, and the trunk
was not once opened during the
voyage.
Grandma Houghton, relying on f SHAAN
Margaret’s care, awoke to a mild in- a Pi
terest in the expedition, and knitted yy ba
her husband a pair of very warm Yip ia na : a i
yh i

mittens. She also sent his overcoat q vi
to the tailor’s, to be faced with 74% Hy me

y







i

fur; exhumed from the camphor- “OM | “
chest an ancient cap with ear-tabs, aN Mt HM
and packed away his gentlemanly iN \ | j
beaver, lest, if he had it with him, ANY

he might be tempted to wear it in
ascending Mont Blanc. The result
of this wifely care was that Judge
Houghton wore his mountain cap on a warm Sunday in Paris, and
was the observed of all observers.

The party made a brief visit in Paris, but, on a bright day in early
June, left the city by the Orleans Railroad, va Dijon and Macon, for
Geneva. Margaret found this city disappointing, but Lake Leman, or
as it is more often called, the Lake of Geneva, was very beautiful.

GRANDFATHER HOUGHTON IN AL-
PINE COSTUME. ‘



38 : THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND. -

“Tt was Goethe who first said that lakes are the eyes of the landscape;
and as our glance, perusing the living traits of a man, is never satisfied
till it reaches his eye, so, on the earth, we seek after water, and are
not quite content till our attention, long vagrant, rests in peace upon
it.” Lake Leman is the largest of the Swiss lakes. It has been said
of it that, though it lacks the grandeur and sublimity of Lucerne and
Thun, and the marvellous color of the Italian lakes, for bright, laugh-
ing beauty it is pre-eminent.

Margaret would gladly have taken the train for the south of Switz-
erland, but while they were in this region her grandfather insisted
on making the tour of the lake, and, before doing this, in going through
the city in true traveller’s style. It would make a paragraph for his
proposed lecture in Chickering Hall; and Margaret found, during the
summer, that much was to be sacrificed for this famous lecture.

She went patiently with him as he made his visits to the watch
manufactories, and took copious notes for his lecture, both from actual
observation and from printed authorities. She would read these aloud
in the evening, and Judge Houghton would express his opinion.

“Excellent, excellent!” the old gentleman would comment, after
such a reading. ‘“ That is just what the members of the Geographical
Society will want to hear. Copy it neatly for me, my dear. I only
wish I had brought my typewriter.”

Their first view of Mont Blanc was obtained at Geneva, with the
lake in the foreground. ‘ How delightful it will be to make the
ascent!” Judge Houghton remarked cheer et “Tt does not look
nearly as difficult as I imagined.”

But when he took Turner’s “ Liber Studiorum” from his steamer-
trunk that evening, and studied the etching of the Mer.de Glace, in
which the savage character of the glacier is greatly exaggerated, and
the great causeway is represented as a chaos of jagged splinters, he
shook his head doubtfully, and hoped there was some easier way.
His assurance increased as he bought ‘his alpenstock the next day.























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































““MER DE GLACE,” MONT BLANC.







' GENEVA. Al

It was topped with a chamois’ horn, and pointed with a sharp iron
ferrule. ‘We will have the names of the mountains you have
ascended branded on the staff free of charge, on your return from
your tour,” the tradesman kindly offered.

Judge Houghton reflected a moment. “We are not certain to
come back this way,” he said. ‘I think it would do just as well to
mark the names of the peaks I intend to
ascend, now.”

‘As you please, sir. What mountains do
you wish? The Rigi, I presume. That is
quite easy to climb. And the Brunig.”

“Certainly, certainly. But I want some
of the celebrated peaks too,—the Jungfrau,
and Mont Blanc, and the Matterhorn.”

“Those are rather difficult to ascend,”
the tradesman replied with a smile.

“«What man has done man can do,” ’
Judge Houghton remarked cheerfully and
confidently, with refreshing ignorance of
what he was attempting.

At the Museum of Natural History the
stuffed chamois excited his enthusiasm, and
he inquired for the taxidermist who had
mounted them. “I shall send him all the -ALICE NEWTON.
-game.I shoot,” he remarked, as he made a ;
note of the address. “I think I shall make a present of the collec-
tion to the New York Museum of Natural History.”

“Suppose it should not prove to be a very large collection,
grandpa?” Margaret suggested mischievously, but was glad that the
old man did not hear her. It was at the Archological Museum,
and while examining an ancient boat, one of the relics of the lacrus-
tine period, that Margaret met another Vassar girl, Alice Newton,














42 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

an old friend of Cecilia’s, and now a missionary to Bulgaria. She had
come to Switzerland to meet her mother, who had been recently left
a widow, and, having no other near ties in America, had decided to
join her missionary daughter, and aid her as a volunteer.

Alice was delighted to meet Margaret, for Vassar is a pass-word
among its alumne. “I have been living for a week in Geneva with
mother,” she said. “I have a little va-
cation, and I do not want to hurry her
to Bulgaria. I shall return by way of
the Danube. I hope our routes lie the
same way.”

_“ Unfortunately,” said Margaret, “we
travel in quite another direction.”

“ But it happens very nicely for me,”
Cecilia explained, ‘since I must part
from Margaret and the rest of the
party when they turn southward. 1
shall be very glad to have you as a
travelling companion. We can journey



SSN
SS
SNS

He
yy i Bho
He : \ WA together as far as Bavaria,
oh LO “And we are not going south im-
AY WEA raat :
YEN f Wee mediately,’ Grandfather Houghton re-
Hi

\. 1 yo marked confidently. “It would be a
shame to give less than a fortnight to
THE GIRL IN THE HADING vert. this lovely lake and the interesting

' towns on its shores. So there is no
need of talking about our ways separating, at present.”

Grandfather Houghton liked young girls. He enjoyed Cecilia’s
society, and Alice’s calm, placid face had made a pleasant impression
upon him. “It’s a pity that you are not at our hotel,” he added.
‘There are plenty of people there, but no one that the girls seem to
take to particularly. Though that pretty girl in the Hading: veil
strikes me as rather nice.”





GENEVA. 43

Margaret laughed merrily. ‘Grandpa is so. impressionable,” she
explained. “The girl in the veil is pretty, but that is all there is to
her, —and she has the most dreadful mother. They are Americans
living abroad on their in-
come. The father, I infer
from the mother’s interest
in business, is no more.”

“ How does the widow
show her business facul-
ty?” Alice asked.

“ She takes the Ameri-
can papers and reads the
stock quotations while she
eats her breakfast, inter-
rupting whatever conver-
sation may be going on CALUMET AND HECLA.
by such exclamations as
‘Calumet and Hecla’s up! Now, Betty, you can buy that embroid-
ered muslin you wanted.’ Or, ‘The land! Betty. Calumet and
Hecla’s down. I’m sorry I ordered that music-box.’”

“You describe her very well,” said the Judge. “She’s something
of a terror, but she’s better than the men. She’s American, at least,
and I can understand her; but my Lord Highnose and I haven’t a
notion in common.”

“Js that a real name?” Alice asked, much amused.

“Only a nickname that Margaret has given him. We thought he
was an Englishman; for he is deplorably ignorant in regard to
America, and seems to take a positive pride in displaying his igno-
rance. He asked me, for instance, if Calumet and Hecla were two
noted race-horses, or Mississippi steamers! And then it came out
that he hadn’t the excuse of being an Englishman; for he said that
he had been absent from the States so long that he had rather lost











44 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

the run of affairs. When I told him that Calumet and Hecla was a_
favorite kind of stock in the market, and that the lady was interested
in Wall Street bulls, he said, ‘Ah, yes! a lady drover and cattle raiser.
| How very extraordinary!’ Iam glad
that we are soon to see the last of
these people.” a,

The girls assented, and Alice asked
if there was really no one at their
hotel who was more interesting.

“Yes,” replied the Judge; “there
is a young scientist, whom I rather
like. He is on his way to make the
ascension of the Jungfrau, and in-
tends to scramble about in the Ober-
land all summer. He’s a Harvard
student, and his name is Livingston
Walker; and —‘Speak of an angel’

LORD HIGHNOSE. —the young fellow is entering the
Museum now. May I present him?” |

The young man proved to be intelligent and courteous. Their
conversation drifted to the work and fame of Professor Agassiz.

alteam glad to find,” said Judge Houghton, “that at least one
American scientist is recognized here in Europe. I have found his
name several times in the Museum.”

“The Genevese would probably claim him as a Swiss scientist,”
the young man replied. “He was born at Motier, in the Canton de
Vaud, not very far from us, and educated in Swiss and German uni-
versities. You know his first work that attracted attention was on the
fresh-water fishes of Europe; and I can imagine him as a boy an
enthusiastic angler in the Swiss lakes. Later, he extended his re-
searches to fossil fishes. He became Professor of Natural History at
Neuchatel, on the lake of the same name, north of us. I have just





GENEVA. 45

returned from a visit to the city. I found the museum rich with col-
‘lections which he had named and classified, and the library, with
learned treatises from his pen. Yes; the Swiss can certainly claim
him, though we have also the right to do so. At present, lam making
an Agassiz pilgrimage, following his footsteps everywhere in Switzer-
land. It is a labor of love, in every way, I assure you.”

“Quite an idea,” exclaimed the enthusiastic Judge. “Let us, also,
visit Neuchatel, and make an Agassiz pilgrimage.”

Margaret bit her lip. ‘“ As we return, grandpa, if you like; but just
now, please remember how impatient I am to reach Zermatt.”

“ True, true,” assented the old gentleman. “It will do just as well
to go there when we come back. And meantime, I have his ‘ Re-
searches on Glaciers’ in my trunk, which you may read to me in the
evening; and perhaps I can bring a part of it
into my lecture.”

“If you are interested in glaciers,” said Mr.
Walker, “we may possibly meet on the great
glacier of the Aar. I shall be making studies
next month in the vicinity of Agassiz’s cabin,
which he jokingly called the Hotel Neucha-
telois. I shall be happy if I can be of any
service.” é

Margaret bowed. She did not care to have
her grandfather’s interest drawn from Zermatt. _-
and she asked if the glaciers at the foot of the
Matterhorn were not as accessible as those of
the Aar. “ More so,” replied the young man;
“and Agassiz has mapped them. I mean to Rin au tcees
work around to that point before the end of
the season; and somewnere I trust, I may have the pleasure of
meeting you again.”

The wish was areticaly sohiees Sy the Judge, and the young





46 THREE VASSAR GIRLS [IN SWITZERLAND.

man withdrew, the others passing into the library founded by
Bonnivard.

“ He was the true prisoner of Chillon,” Alice said, “‘of whom Byron
had not heard when he wrote his poem.”



pee
Se eae



THE HOTEL NEUCHATELOIS.

“ Bonnivard?” remarked the Judge questioningly. “I don’t quite
recollect his history.”

“He was the Prior of St. Victor, you know,” Alice replied. “He
was a patriot, too, and greatly opposed to the usurpation of the Duke
of Savoy; and the duke had him carried to Chillon, and kept there
as a prisoner for six years.”

“How did he ever get out?”



GENEVA. 47

“Tn 1536, the people of Geneva assaulted the castle from the lake,
and rescued him.” :

“It seems to me they took a long enough time to make up their
minds to do it.” This from Margaret. —

“That reminds me,” said the Judge, “that we must certainly visit
~Chillon; and I think it would be pleasanter to go by the lake. I
wonder if there is not some pleasant little place at the other end of
Lake Leman which we could make our headquarters, and then take |
excursions from it to Vevy,
Clarens, and other interest-
ing points.”

“Glion is just the spot,”
replied Alice. “Mamma and
I are going there. The Pen-
sion Victoria has been rec-
ommended to us as a home-
like, charming little hotel,
situated .on a commanding
height, and giving one beau- THE PRISONER OF CHILLON.
tiful views in every direction.”

“ A good place to practise mountain climbing, eh! Then, to Glion
let us all go. A few days more will suffice for Geneva; then fare-
well to Calumet and Hecla.”

The morning of the next day Judge Houghton spent in looking up
a music-box. He succeeded in finding. a fine one, which played the
air of a song by Grieg, beginning, — :



“The winter may perish, the spring pass away,”

which Cecilia sang charmingly, and which was a prime favorite with
the Judge.

After the music-box was purchased, it proved quite an elephant.
Judge Houghton would not hear to its being packed in the trunk, and



48 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND,

left to the tender mercies of baggage-smashers ; and it was accordingly
wrapped in Cecilia’s water-proof, and carried by a shawl-strap. As
they walked back to the hotel from the shop, a slight jar set the
mechanism in motion; and people whom they met or passed turned
to wonder what was the source of the fairy music. Among these was
Mr. Walker, who smilingly asked, “Is this the Banbury Cross lady,
of whom it was said that ‘she shall have music wherever she goes’?” |

“Tt is disagreeable, is it not, to be made so conspicuous ?” Margaret
remarked, as Mr. Walker relieved her of the burden.

“Tt is a familiar air,” replied the young man, “ and the words set to
it are very beautiful.”

“J think them very sentimental,” Margaret replied, with a, toss of
her head. “I thought, last night, while Cecilia was singing them with
so much apparent feeling, that it was all great nonsense.”

“So,” thought Mr. Walker, “our young lady is not the least bit
romantic. Well, I like her all the better for it.”

The Judge, however, took up the cudgels in favor of the little love-
song. “Mr. Walker must hear Cecilia sing it,” he said. “Mrs. and
Miss Newton are to dine with us this evening; and after dinner, if no
one else has taken possession of the little music-room, perhaps Mr.
Walker will join us there, and we will have some music.’

Mr. Walker responded. gratefully to the Judge’s invitation, and
fortune favored them, in providing some fireworks in the public gar-
dens, to which the other guests of the hotel gave their countenance.
The hotel parlors were deserted, and the Judge escorted Cecilia to the
piano.

From singing, they fell to chatting of ie great names connected
with Geneva, of Rousseau, of Velie and Calvin.

Mrs. Newton, who had a refined, serious face, a typical mother, as
Margaret expressed it, was a clergyman’s wife, who delighted in her
daughter’s work. She joined in the conversation enthusiastically and
intelligently.



GENEVA. 49

“There are many interesting lives that have been influenced by
these mountains,” she said; “but to me, Calvin is far the strongest.
You know he fled to Switzerland when he embraced Protestantism.
It was from. Basel that he wrote his famous preface to Francis I.,
which has been called one of the most memorable documents of the
Reformation, ‘from its intensity of feeling, its indignant remonstrance,
and its pathetic and powerful eloquence.’”

“T wonder whether Calvin was really influenced by the ‘ mountain
gloom,’ of which Ruskin has so much to say,” Cecilia remarked.

. “T think not,” Alice replied; “for his life in Switzerland was spent
chiefly here in Geneva, where nature has a very cheerful aspect; but
he may well have drawn his dogmas in relation to ‘ Irresistible Grace’
and the eternal decrees of God from the irresistible onward ee of
the glaciers and the stability of the everlasting hills.”

“T am not drawn to Calvin as I am to Luther,” Cecilia remarked
musingly. “He seems to me the Torquemada of the Protestant
Church.”

Judge Houghton began to fear that their missionary friends would
prove rather heavy companions, but Alice considerately changed. the
subject. She had that valuable quality which we call tact, the power
of adapting herself to her friends, and of making herself beloved by
widely differing individuals. “What led you to be so greatly in-
terested in Agassiz?” she asked of Mr. Walker. “ You are certainly
too young to have been one of his pupils, even at Penikese.”

“Tt is the regret of my life that I came into the world too late to
be his pupil,” replied the young man. “But I had the privilege of
studying his wonderful collection at Cambridge, and I feel that in that
he has left me a rich personal legacy.”

“You are a geologist?”

“Tam fond of the natural sciences, but they are only a luxury for
me. My profession is to be that of a civil engineer; and part of my
business here in Switzerland is to study the passes and the railroad

é



50 THREE VASSAR GIRLS [IN SWITZERLAND.

engineering of the Alps, in the hope ee I my some time improve
upon them in our Rocky Mountains.”

The return of “Calumet and Hecla” from viewing the fireworks
reminded Mrs. Newton of the lateness of the hour, and she and Alice
took their leave, Mr. Walker escorting them to their penszon.

During the few days that they remained in Geneva, some playful
chance was continually throwing the young people together. Did
they walk in the gardens, Mr. Walker was sure to appear near the
statue of Rousseau. At church, on Sabbath, the sexton oddly showed
him into the pew behind them. In the photograph shops, Mr. Walker
turned the portfolios. Did they take a drive, Mr. Walker cantered up
beside them in the most off-hand manner.

“ This is getting monotonous,” Margaret said to Cecilia, on their
last evening in Geneva, as the waiter handed them Mr. Walker’s card;
“but there is one comfort, there will be an entire change of dvamatis
persone at Glion.”

Mrs. Newton and Alice dropped in a little later, and the evening |
was one of the pleasantest which they had passed in Geneva. Was
it the sense of coming relief which made Margaret more than usually
gay and sparkling, and really courteous to the “Monotonous Walker”?
If so, she must have been a trifle nonplussed when he asked, as he
took his leave, if he might be permitted to call on them at Glion, on
his way to the Oberland? The request was addressed to Margaret;
but apparently she did not hear it, and the Judge filled in the
awkward pause with a profuse welcome, and Mrs. Newton, in response
to a gentle pressure from Alice’s hand, added a gracious assurance of
favor.



THE COUNTESS. 5I

CHAPTER IV.
THE COUNTESS.

“Glion ? Ah, twenty years, it cuts
All meaning from a name!
White houses prank where once were huts;
Glion, but not the same.

“And yet I know not. All unchanged
The turf, the pines, the sky!
The hills in their old order ranged!
The lake with Chillon by!”
MATTHEW ARNOLD.

UR travellers were enchanted with their first view of Glion,
the picturesque villas and hotels gleaming on the green moun-
_ tain side. A funicular railway carried the guests of the hotels
up the steep slope to their destination; but the Judge preferred to
begin his mountaineering by walking to the hotel, and Margaret ac-
companied him, the rest mounting by rail. It was a longer walk than
they had counted on, and the Judge’s bandanna came out frequently
to wipe his perspiring brow; but the view was superb, and refreshed
their spirits when they paused to rest. There was the Castle of
Chillon at their feet, and the sapphire lake dimpling in the breeze, and
flecked with white sails, the nestling towns and villages on the shore—
Montreux, Clarens, and Vevey —all plainly visible. In the direction
of the Gorge of the Rhone, the Dent du Midi and the Alps of the
Valais lifted white fingers of snow, as one traveller has so well said,
« As though the hills themselves were holding up their hands in
everlasting homage.”



52 THREE VASSAR GIRLS: IN SWITZERLAND.

Margaret stood afterwards before many scenes surpassing this in
grandeur, but never felt herself more thrilled by pure beauty than
now. The Judge was exhilarated, and as happy as a child. “If all
Alpine climbing is as easy as this—,” he remarked; “but then, of
course, it can’t be.”

At a sudden. turn
they came upon a little
old woman resting by
the roadside. She was
dressed plainly, but her
garments were of rich
material, and she was
presided over by a ser--
vant in livery, who held
a parasol over her, and
fanned her assiduously.

“Enough, animal !”
she cried spitefully, in
French. “You will give
me the consumption, with
such a current of air.



You are worse than an

pak io Alpine hurricane, you

blacksmith’s bellows.

Put away that fan, and hand me my lorgnette.: Let me see what
manner of creatures these are.”

The footman obediently folded the fan and handed his mistress
her eye-glasses, and the little woman coolly submitted the Judge and
Margaret to a broadside of scrutiny. “A grizzly bear,” she remarked,
still speaking in French; “an American bear. I know the species.
Hold, he has with him a little savagess. Their air is amiable. I will
speak to them.” And dropping her eye-glass and totally changing



THE COUNTESS. Be

her manner, she addressed them in odd English, with a slightly foreign
accent.

“ Make. your father to be seated, my dear young lady. He has ze
air to be fatigued. My servant will bring him a glass of water from
ze cascade yonder. Animal, approach ze water.” (This to the
footman, who incontinently fled to execute the errand.)

‘Margaret, who had heard and comprehended her soliloquy, would
have declined her courtesy and proceeded; but Judge Houghton
did not understand French, and, as he was really weary, eagerly
availed himself of the proffered civilities, seating himself on the
stone parapet beside the stranger, and mopping his glowing coun-
tenance,

“JT am very glad to meet any one who speaks English, ma’am,” he
said, by way of keeping up the conversation; for Margaret stood at a
little distance, apparently absorbed in the view.

“You are zen English?” asked the lady.

« American, ma'am; American. Allow me to introduce myself.
Judge Jonah Houghton of New York.” He paused, but the lady did
not respond to the introduction by giving her own name, and he
continued, “Travelling with my granddaughter. You, I judge, are a
foreigner, ma’am; though you speak English like a native.” For the
moment, Judge Houghton forgot that here in Europe he was the
foreigner; but the lady understood him, and bowed politely, though
an amused smile twitched her thin lips, while the Judge proceeded
serenely, “It is really remarkable, but you are the first foreigner we’ve
really met,—socially, I mean. I don’t count storekeepers. Switzer-
land seems to be full of Americans. At least, the hotels are. Margaret
and I are sick of them. Americans are all very well in America; but
one can see plenty of them at home; one doesn’t come abroad to see
them. I mean no disparagement of my own country people when I
say it. They may be a great deal more enlightened than foreigners;
but when we come abroad we come to study foreigners, their ways and



54 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

their manners, even if they are not up to our own, and that is why I
am so glad to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”

Margaret felt that the conversation needed interruption, and, step-
ping forward, remarked on the beauty of the view. “It is lufly, very
lufly,’ said the lady. “I know it well; for I have been here before.
Eighteen years ago since I was in Switzerland. You can well com-
prehend zat it has changed. Zere was no funicular railway zen.
We rode to ze top in ze omnibus, or we walked. I always walked.
So, to revive ze old time, I have walked to-day. But alas! I have

changed also. I am not so spry as
once. Better I had gone in ze wagon
of ze train, with Lajos, for it has proved
a great waste of perspiration. Come,
Konrad. I have reposed myself, and
I will not make zese kind people to
wait longer. Ex voute/”
The footman gave her his arm, and
' they all walked on together. It seemed
odd to Margaret to hear her address
the servant as Konrad; she had called
him “animal” so often, that it almost
seemed that this must be his Christian
name,

But though violent of temper, this strange old woman was not
uninteresting, and Margaret admired her intelligence. She quoted
from Rousseau, and Byron’s lines on Clarens, as the Judge pointed
out the town.

“Have you anyzing so beautiful as zat by an American writer?”
she asked.

“IT think Aldrich’s ‘Alpine Picture’ more beautiful,” Margaret
replied. And, as the lady knew of neither the poet nor the poem, she
repeated it for her. nas





LHE COUNTESS. 55

“Stand here and look, and softly hold your breath,
Lest the vast avalanche come crashing down !
How many. miles away is yonder town,

Set flower-wise in the valley? Far beneath,
A scimitar half drawn from out its sheath,
The river curves through meadows newly mown.

‘The ancient water-courses all are strown
With drifts of snow, fantastic wreath on wreath.
And peak on peak against the turquoise blue,
The Alps like towering campanilis stand,
Wondrous, with pinnacles of frozen rain,
Silvery, crystal, like the prism in hue.

O tell me, love, if this be Switzerland,
Or is it but the frost-work on the pane?”

The little woman listened attentively, and then remarked half to
herself, “ You are fond of poetry. Ah! yes; you are at ze romantic
period. You have perhaps eighteen years. It must be passed through.
It does not always make harm. I am not of zose who would repress
it. One might as well try to repress ze chicken-pox. It can be
- done, but it is bad for ze liver; and when ze eruption of poetry is
driven in, it is bad for ze heart. Much better you go through wiz
zese infantile diseases at ze proper time. Lajos has never had ze
measles. I tremble for him if he should contract zem now. He has
never had a romance in his youth. Zink of the virulence wiz which
it may attack him in his manhood. You see, my dear, Lajos is my
nephew; zat is, not my true nephew. He is ze nephew to my
husband, who is dead. Weare all zere is to each other. He is so
devoted to me, he will do anyzing I ask of him. He would have
climbed ze mountain wiz me; but I said, ‘Lajos, you have had
enough of mountains. He joined the Russian army, and went over
ze Balkans with General Skobeleff. He was wounded in ze leg,
and nursed in a hospital of ze Red Cross, by some Americans.
I have felt kindly to Americans ever since. But all ze same, he



56 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

cannot walk well, or dance. It is hard for him. He has changed
since zat campaign. He is not ze same lively, gay of heart boy as
once.”

By the time that they had climbed the mountain and reached the
hotel, they all felt very well acquainted.

“T shall see you again, my dear,” said the little woman as they
separated at the door, and she took the arm of a hollow-cheeked, grave
man, with an immense mustache. It was difficult to imagine that this
was her “boy” Lajos; but he led the strange little lady toward Alice,
saying as he did so, “T wish, my aunt, to present you to Mrs. Newton,
and to Miss Newton, to whose kind care while in the hospital I believe
I owe my life.”

‘He is the Count Krajova,”’ Alice explained afterwards. ‘‘ He was
taken prisoner by the Turks toward the last of the war, spared on
account of his high rank, and sent to Lady Strangford’s hospital, where
I was assisting. I helped nurse him until the Russians took Kezanlik,
when he was transferred to the Red Cross hospital. He recognized
~ me in the cars as we rode up, and came over to see us at once, and
inquired for the mission and the girls’ school, of which I had told him
when he asked how it fappened that an American girl had drifted so
far from home.” :

“T remember your writing about him,” said Mrs. Newton.

“Did I mention him?” Alice asked. “That is odd, for he was
with us only a short time; but he was very gentlemanly. He was more
than that, he was heroic in his patient endurance.” tare

‘At last,” said Judge Houghton, as he inscribed his name in the
hotel register, and tried in vain to make out those of the Austrians
which preceded it, “at last we have escaped from our co-patriots.”
But as he spoke, a girlish voice from the reading-room exclaimed in
triumph, “ Ma, Ma; we can stay in Switzerland all summer. Calumet
‘and Hecla is up!”

The Judge started. “They are some American ladies,” said the



THE COUNTESS. ee

clerk,’ “ who arrived to-day from Geneva. They came by rail. Would
you like to meet them?”

“Far be it from me,” replied the Judge; and he impressed on the
mind of the clerk their especial desire during their stay to avoid the
society of all Americans.

‘T'll do the best I can, sir,” replied the obliging een “but we are
quite overrun with them this summer.”

The Judge was weary, and retired early; but as the girls sat by
their open window looking down at the rakish lateen sails of the
fishing craft on the lake, a maid
appeared, dressed in the pretty
costume of the country, and
bringing an invitation from the
Countess Krajova inviting the
American party to drive with

















her to Vevey the next day. i on Z
The invitation was accepted, See Gee i
and the party made the excur- ee ————
sion in two carriages. : ee er | — It was a day to be marked eq AM Ay yt
with a white stone, as nearly all | £ ae
days are in the beautiful Pays “CALUMET AND HECLA IS UP!”

de Vaud. They drove through
the lovely town of Montreux, through woods and vineyards, over
streams and along the borders of the lake, catching glimpses of the
Plejaden, the Moleson, and the Cubli mountains, with new combi-
nations of the familiar Dent de Jaman and Dent du Midi.

“Tt is one pity it is not ze autumn,” said the countess; “for zen we
could see ze Féte of ze Abbaye des Vignerons.”

“ What is that?” asked the Judge. ‘Some church festival?”

“On ze contrarie,” replied the lady, ‘it is one survive of ze Pagan-
ism celebrate by ze vine-dresser in honor of Bacchus. It is now



58 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

twenty years zat I have not seen it. Such so great pleasure! It ©
was worth to be one Pagan. Ze town was so full of ze spectator
from effery country of Europe zat it was unpossible zere could come -
more. Ze window, ze balcony, ze roof, even ze tree, was rent for a
price to preak ze heart. Only ze American could afford ze best place.
Ze aristocracy of Europe content himself to view zat processions from
ze barn, from ze wagon of hay. I have
accommodate myself, wiz ze Countess
Esterhazy, on ze roof of a smissy
~ [smithy]. We could not else. We
were bake by ze sun, and robe was
decorate wiz ze tar and ze cinder, —
but all zat signify to us nossing, we
have excellent view to ze procession.”
“They will manage it better this
year, aunt,” said Lajos. “ Parisian art-
ists are designing the tableaux, which
‘are to be superb; and the public will
be provided for more commodiously.”
“It cannot be more beautiful as
then,” said the countess. “Do you
a know if ze Goddess of Spring shall
PEASANT WAITRESS. _ be ze same pretty peasant girl of
a Clarens who took ze part when I was
here? Ze Prince of Metternich made her a present of a pracelet
of diamond.”
“Your peasant beauty must be a buxom dame by this time, aunt.
You forget the changes that Time works.” |
“Ah! malicious one; it is true. You could not believe I was
beautiful also. I wore a green satin pelisse; and my friend Margaret
du Fais, one of pink, garnished wiz ze down of swan. We were ze
toast of ze gentlemen; and she is dead, ze beloved one.”





el Sy, ap? ay aime «Bip ms 7 \
hy f ie Bout. Tim NiGe sy Y= by ys a
= = > > SS Swe: \












































































“4

i
Y

tgs oh
lp Mik

hu



Vial
fe

THE DEN









T DU MIDI. FROM ABOVE THE LAKE OF GENEVA.

cs



5 Save RV
DIE SS aN e A .

ARN Oy 3

Ny
mee







THE COUNTESS. . 61

“But the spectacle, aunt,” said Lajos, anxious to ‘lead her thoughts
from sad personal recollections.

“Ah! ze spectacle was magnifique. I can see it all. First ze
train of ze Goddess of Spring; ze gardeners and gardeneresses wiz
zare tools, ze shepherd and shepherdesses wiz zare sheeps, ze herds-
men wiz zare cattles, all shouting ze Ranz des vaches. Oh! it was
heavenly beautiful! And ze Goddess of Summer, in a wagon orna-
mented of corns. Zen come some children carrying a cage of bees,
singing alouds. And ze laborer of autumn; ze haymakers wiz zare
pitchforks, ze mowers wiz scys, ze gleaners wiz sheafs, and ze vintagers
wiz ze cluster of grape, ze faun, ze Bacchante, and ze people mytholo-
gique, dressed in skin of leopard and garlands, dancing wiz great
leaps. Ze pipes, ze flutes, ze kettledrum, ze fiddle, making music
forte fortissimo!”

The countess’ description was so spirited that the volatile Judge
was greatly interested. “Let us remain until the f€te,” he exclaimed,
forgetful of all other plans.

“ Rather, let us try to meet here again in the autumn,” suggested
Lajos.

“Excellent, excellent,” said the countess. “It is fully three months
until ze time of ze féte. One could not exist at Glion so long. It
would be a century of exnuz.”

“And even if it were the most interesting place in the world,”
added Margaret, “we would all be very tired of one another.”

“You would all weary of me,” replied the countess; “but Lajos is
an angel. If it were not so he could not have borne wiz me all zese
years.” It was plainly to be seen that the young man was her idol,
and that she desired to have him admired by all, and especially by
Margaret, to whom she seemed to have taken a strong liking. Mar-
garet was gratified by her attentions; for she recognized the com-
pliment which they implied, coming as they did from a lady of
rank, and Margaret was not insensible to social distinction; but she



62, THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

did not reciprocate the affection offered her, for, in spite of her
freakish kindness to Margaret and her doting fondness for her nephew,
the countess was not an amiable woman. She did not scruple to fly
into a rage over very little matters with her domestics, and to berate
them in what seemed to Margaret a very unladylike manner. On
unpacking the lunch hamper for their picnic on the border of the
lake, it was discovered that one of the Bohemian glass decanters was
broken, and the angry countess did not hesitate to give the unoffend-
ing maid who informed her of the fact a smart slap on the face.
Lajos presently gave the girl a fee; but. the revengeful look did not
die out with the gift, and though the countess chatted merrily as
though nothing unusual had happened, a restraint seemed to have
fallen upon the spirits of the party.

When the wine was passed, and the girls declined it, the countess
seemed to think that they did so because they feared that, one bottle
having been broken, there would not be a sufficient quantity for all.

It was with great difficulty that Margaret explained to her that
American girls did not drink wine.

“So!” she exclaimed. “But you, Miss Newton, you have in
Europe been long enough to learn our customs.” When Alice, also,
resolutely begged to be excused, the countess exclaimed spitefully,
“You are one leetle frog!”

They drove back to the hotel by a different route, with the sunset

flushing the lake. Lajos, who rode with the young ladies, trolled
_ German student songs in a rich baritone voice, and the young ladies
responded with Vassar glees. “If one might ride and sing forever,”
said the young man in an impersonal manner, but directing his gaze
-at Alice. ‘‘ But, alas, my aunt leaves Glion soon, for Austria, and I
must accompany her.” The words did not compromise him, but the
tone said, “I am bound pad and foot to that woman ; and no one
knows what slavery it is.’

The next day was the Sabbath, and the Americans attended service
at ne little church of Montreux.



THE COUNTESS. aot 63

“*T will lift up mine eyes unto the hills,” Cecilia said softly, as
they came out of the church door, and saw the beautiful Dent du
Midi gleaming white in the distance. Lajos was on the terrace, wait-
ing to walk home with them, and apparently not minding the climb
at all. . . :

“What a wonderful country this beautiful Pays de Vaud is!” Alice
remarked softly. “Ido not wonder that Agassiz grew near to Nature’s
heart here. Do you remember Longfellow’s poem to him on his’
fiftieth birthday? I forgot to ask Mr. Walker if he was familiar with
it; but of course he is.”

“Can you repeat it?” Margaret asked; and as they climbed the
hill together, Margaret repeated, —

“Tt was fifty years ago,
In the pleasant month of May,
In the beautiful Pays du Vaud,
_A child in its cradle lay.

“ And Nature, the old nurse, took
The child upon her keee,
Saying, ‘Here is a story book
Thy Father has written for thee.

“¢Come, wander with me,’ she said,
‘Into regions yet untrod,
And read what is still unread
In the manuscripts of God.’

“And he wandered away and away,
e - With Nature, the dear old nurse,
Who sang to him every day
The rhymes of the universe.

“ And whenever the way seemed long,
Or his heart began to fail,
She would sing a more wonderful song,
Or tell a more marvellous tale.



64 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

* And at times he hears in his dreams
The Ranz des Vaches of old,
And the rush of mountain streams
From glaciers clear and cold.

“And the mother at home says, ‘ Hark,
For his voice I listen and yearn ;
It is growing late and dark,

207

And my boy does not return.

“Tt ig indeed beautiful,” said Lajos. “And you say that this was
written to a Swiss scientist by your great poet Longfellow? But who
is the Mr. Walker of whom you just spoke?”

“He is a young engineer whom we met in Geneva,” Alice replied.
“He has come to Switzerland to study the passes; but he is also
much interested in Agassiz.”

“Napoleon was the great engineer of Switzerland,” Lajos as-
serted. “He should study the campaigns of Napoleon. I have
myself studied engineering. That was a heavy bit of it we did in
crossing the Balkans. I consider Prince Tserteleff one of our greatest
military engineers. I helped him make the Hainkoi Pass practicable.
Alas! there is no more see engineering for me.” And he leaned
heavily on his cane.

‘““T would like, however, to meet this friend of yours, and talk over —
engineering with him. I used to think of following up Napoleon’s
military works in the Alps, and making a thorough study of them;
but I fear I shall never do even that.” or

“Mr. Walker may come to Glion,” Alice replied; “and if so, I have
no doubt that he will consider it a privilege to meet you. It is very
kind of you to propose it. I am sure he deserves your interest.”

_ Both Lajos and Margaret regarded Alice keenly, and each won-
dered how far she might be interested in the career of this young
engineer; but Alice, utterly unconscious of their thought, and with
nothing but simple friendship in her heart for Mr. Walker, continued



THE COUNTESS. 65

the conversation. “Could you not go over most of the Bases in a
carriage?” she asked.

“The Simplon, certainly,” he replied; “and doubtless the others.
But one could not study them to the best advantage in that way; and
I wanted to write an exhaustive work on the subject.”

‘Perhaps Mr. Walker could aid you in your observations, and
enable you to carry out your plan. He may be able to be really
useful to you; and if so, I shall be
very glad.”

“At all evens let me nour when
he appears,” said Lajos.

That evening Konrad appeared with
another invitation from Madame. This
time it was for a social game of cards.
The girls looked at each other in
dismay.

“Tell her,” said Margaret, impul-
sively, “that we don’t play cards Sun-
day night.”

“Wait a moment, dear,” said Alice.
“As mamma is our chaperone, would it

not be better for her to send a note of
explanation ?”



‘THE COUNTESS ENTHRONED.

This was accordingly done, the countess immediately deferring the
party until the next evening.

She was enthroned in a high-backed chair as they entered, indus-
triously reading from a French novel; but she dropped the book, and
greeted them vivaciously.

“We will play Lansquenet,” she said; “for so we shall not limit
ourself at four.” And she led the way to a table on which she had
already distributed the cards. Margaret was thunderstruck to see a
roll of silver pieces at each place.



66 ep cg THREE VASSAR GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND.

“We are not to play for money!” she exclaimed. “I thought that
was against the law.” |

“Jt is against the law to keep a public gambling house,” Lajos
explained; “but the police do not trouble themselves with an innocent
little amusement like this. We never play for high stakes, and it adds

a zest to the game.” :

“But we never play for money in America,” Alice replied, laying
down her cards.

“ Avaricious one!” exclaimed the countess; “do you not see zat I
have provide ze silvery You lose nossing. On contrary, you shall
keep your gains.”

“Tt is not that,” Alice explained bravely. “It is the principle of
the thing. We think it wrong.” i

The countess flushed angrily. “ Bigote!” she exclaimed, turning
abruptly from the table, and flouncing out of the room. Alice’s eyes
shone suspiciously, and Lajos gave her a quick glance of sympathy,
but refrained from speaking to her, for he saw that a word now would
unloose the tears. He rose at once, and, begging that they might be
favored with some music, escorted Cecilia to the piano; and Cecilia
played a merrier selection than was her wont, a Hungarian dance of
Rubenstein’s. The countess heard it, in the depths of her doudozr.
It was one of her favorites, and she could not resist its contagion.
She flew in, all animation, exclaiming, “ We dance, we dance,” and,
catching Margaret about the waist, spun her around the room until
she was breathless.

. When the dance ceased, Margaret noticed that Lajos had led Alice
out upon the balcony, and was talking with her in the moonlight.
“You are right,” he said. “I have seen the evils of gaming in the
army. You have taught me a lesson. I will never By, for money
again.”

Konrad came in with refreshments, —little cakes, and glasses of
“limonad.” The countess had evidently regarded the prejudices of



THE COUNTESS. 67

her guests, though she herself declined the beverage, declaring it made
her shiver to think of it.

So a week passed, rendering them all better and better acquainted
with each other’s good qualities and faults; for the latter come out
with even more startling distinctness during eeel than at home.

Annette was the only one of the party who had not yet seen the
Countess Krajova; but the name and title was unfamiliar to her, and
she had as yet no suspicion that the baroness whom she had known
years ago might in the interval have married a count, and be known
by. her husband’s name and title.

The culmination of their intercourse occurred a few. days after
this. Alice and Margaret were sitting alone one afternoon, when
Konrad came running to their room, exclaiming, “The countess!
The countess! She has poisoned herself!”

“What? On purpose?” Alice asked.

~“No, She have one dreadful headache, and she take some medi-
cine. And now I tink she die.”

“Where is Lajos?” asked Alice.

“T know not. He have depart.”

“Then, run for a physician, and we will go to her meantime.”
Alice had had experience in the hospital; but Margaret was younger,
and knew nothing of medicine. She followed Alice, feeling all the
time.as if she were in a dream. The countess lay upon a couch, her
face distorted, her form bent, and her fingers contracted, as though
suddenly frozen stiff in the midst of a convulsion.

Alice stepped quickly to the dressing-table. ~The vial labelled
- Nux Vomica from which she had taken the medicine stood uncorked,
a teaspoon beside it.

“Tt is what you call homeeopathic medicine,” said the trembling
maid. “That never hurt anybody.”

Alice read the printed direction. “ Mix four fons of the tincture
in a third of a glass of water, and take one teaspoonful at each dose.”



68 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

But the countess had taken one teaspoonful of the tincture, wash-
ing it down with a third of a glass of water.

“That make all the same, is it not?” asked the maid.

“Flardly,” replied Alice. “It is deadly poison. She has taken
enough to kill her. The antidote is tannic acid; and the pharmacist’s
is so far away that we can never get it here in time. We can only
give an emetic. Quick! Get me some mustard and hot water.”

The maid brought the mixture. “We+can never make her take
it,” said Margaret. “Her teeth are
ground tightly together. I believe she
has lockjaw.”

“The entomologist up-stairs must
have chloroform,” replied Alice. “ Run
and ask him for some. A sniff of it
will make the muscles relax, and then
she can open her mouth and take the



Xt

y
i











N A
: AY
ANA








medicine.”

Margaret sped up to the old ento-
mologist’s room, but he was away
among the hills chasing Alpine but-
terflies. His door was locked, but she

Go bethought her suddenly of Annette’s

THE ENTOMOLOGIST RECEIVES THE Skeleton key. Down-stairs again, to
: APOLOGY, explain the matter to Annette, who
opened the door with a triumphant

manner which said plainly, “Now, you see, yourself, the good of
having a brother who is a locksmith, and can commit burglary with-

7

out a scruple, when it serves your purpose.”

Margaret, having first carried down a bottle of glue, which would
not have had a relaxing tendency, at last found the chloroform in
“the old gentleman’s dressing-case. What a time they had afterwards,
explaining the burglary to the deaf old entomologist, and how pleased



THE COUNTESS. 69

he was that his chloroform had the desired effect! “And now,” said
Alice, “if I only had the tannic acid!”
Margaret's wits slowly came to her. “Alice, they use tannic acid

in ink, do they not?”

“Yes; but combined with iron. Ink would not serve the purpose.”

“T know it. But grandpa was complaining of the ink we have
here, and bought some chemicals the other day, to make some for his
precious lecture; and I am sure that he has not used them yet.”
And Margaret flew to her grandfather's room, returning with the
tannic acid, and bringing Annette to assist. Annette, however, was
of little service. “Hand me the smelling-salts,’ Alice had said.
“ Look on the dressing-table. You surely will find a vinaigrette.”

Annette fumbled among the articles displayed on the dainty toilet-
table, her gaze fixed on a well-known crest on the silver vinaigrette, —
a mailed hand waving a firebrand.

“Quick, Annette; the vinaigrette! She is fainting,” exclaimed
Margaret. ‘You cannot find it? Why, girl! it is in your hand,”
Annette turned, and gave the countess one long, terrified stare. The
features were unfamiliar, but years might have changed them. She
dared not await her return to consciousness; and when Margaret,

whose hand had been extended for the smelling-salts, looked up impa-
tiently, Annette was gone. The girls continued their efforts until the
arrival of the physician, who listened to what they had done, gave
some remedies, and congratulated them warmly. “You have saved
the lady’s life,” he said. “But for your prompt action, I should have
arrived too late.” Lajos, who entered at this moment, clasped Alice’s
hand. “This is like you,” he said simply.

It was several days before the countess fully recovered; but, when
told of what had happened, she perversely insisted on giving all the
credit to Margaret. It was in vain that Margaret herself disclaimed
the merit, explaining that she only followed Alice’s directions, and
that without her she would not have known what to do. The countess _



70 . THREE VASSAR GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND.
8

persisted in attributing Margaret’s statement of the fact to her own
modesty. ;

When Lajos rather indignantly urged that Alice’s participation in
the rescue should not be ignored, the countess grudgingly accorded
her an expression of her gratitude. It was evident that she had
contracted an unreasoning prejudice toward Alice and an equally
unfounded fondness for Margaret. She could not bear, now, to allow
a single day to pass without seeing her. She made her handsome
presents, —an exquisitely embroidered Swiss muslin dress, and a pretty
necklace of edelweiss blossom in frosted silver. -Her manner softened
appreciably. She had been very near death, and had felt the spray of
that unknown sea upon her face. Her eyes assumed a wistful expres-
sion. They followed Margaret beseechingly. Her fondness wearied
Margaret, who was not then as unselfish as she afterward became.
It was not altogether pleasant to read continually to an invalid instead
of roaming freely with the others. And when the countess was able
to join them in their excursions it was just a little wearying to have
her claw-like hand forever resting upon her arm, to adapt her steps
to the cramped hobble of her companion, and to respond to her ques-
tions, while the Judge, tripping on in advance, laughed heartily at Ce-
cilia’s witticisms, which Margaret could not hear, and Alice and Lajos
loitered in the rear, evidently well content with each other’s company.

Annette, too, increased Margaret’s impatience to proceed to Zer-
matt by letting fall fascinating hints and suggestions in regard to
her great-aunt. She threw every possible obstacle in the way of
Margaret’s meeting with the countess, or accepting her invitations, —
hiding her gloves, disclosing stains and rents at the last moment, when
quite too late to remedy defects. She was in a fever of anxiety to be
off, and of apprehension of detection, and she longed for some event
which would break up this, to her, very undesirable intimacy. None
of her plots to hasten the departure succeeded; but the event came
from an entirely unexpected quarter.



THE COUNTESS. 71

One evening, as the carriage of the countess halted at the door of
the hotel, after an excursion to the Castle of Chillon, the clerk met the
Judge with the well-pleased air of a man who has done his duty and
deserves appreciation. ‘An: American has inquired for you,” he |
announced; “and I told him that you left special directions that no
Americans would be received. He said he had made your acquaint-
ance at Geneva, and you expected to meet him again. I told him
that was probably the reason you were so particular in your orders to
me. He flushed as red as a beet, and said, ‘Oh! very well, and went
away.”

“Do you remember his name?” Margaret asked.

“Tt was Walker,” replied the clerk. “I remember that very well;
for I thought it very appropriate, he walked so well and so fast. He
went straight down the Mountain to Montreux, where he has doubt-
less lodged at the inn, and we have lost a guest; but I don’t mind
that, since I have done a service to Monsieur and the young ladies.”

“You took me a little too seriously, my friend,” said the Judge.
“T had no idea that Mr. Walker was coming in this direction, and I
would like very much to see him.”

The three girls joined in a chorus of, “ What a pity!” and, “I trust
he is not greatly offended,” as they mounted the stairs.

Margaret decided that an apology was due him; and the Judge
wrote a kind letter, which, however, could not be sent until the morn-
ing. Livingston Walker had stepped aside, when half-way down the
mountain, to allow the carriages to roll: by, and, though unrecognized
himself, had heard Margaret’s gay laugh ring out, and had noticed
that a distinguished-looking foreigner sat beside her.

Stung by the rebuff which he had just received, he decided rashly
that it must have been meant for him personally by Margaret.

“She is a heartless schemer,” he said to himself; “her giddy head
turned by the attentions of a noble of the fifth rank. It serves me
right for stopping over, on my way, to accept her grandfather’s invi-
tation. I shall know better in future.”



72 ' THREE VASSAR GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND.

CHAPTER V.
THE JUNGFRAU AND THE OBERLAND.

The clouds are on the Oberland,
The Jungfrau snows look faint and far;
But bright are these green fields at hand,
And through those fields comes down the Aar;
And from the blue twin lakes it comes,
Flows by the town, the churchyard fair,
And ‘neath the garden-walk it hums,
The house,—and is my Marguerite there ?
MaTTHEW ARNOLD.

UDGE HOUGHTON, who was sorry for the affront which his
friend had received, decided to take an early morning walk the
next day, and make suitable explanations. He was, therefore,

not a little disappointed to find that Livingston Walker had just left
for Thun, doubtless on his way to the Jungfrau, the glacier of the
Aar. A great desire to ascend the mountain in his company came
over Judge Houghton. With his recent walks had come the convic-
tion that mountaineering was not the easy matter which he had imag-
ined, and he could not help thinking that the company of such a
vigorous young climber would be of immense assistance to him. If
only he could induce Margaret to deflect from her route long enough
to make this ascension, they might easily overtake Mr. Walker. He
returned to the hotel to find the girls discussing their plans at the
breakfast-table.

Cecilia and Alice had decided that, much as they were enjoying

their delightful stay at Glion, they could not remain longer. Mrs.
Newton would accbmpany them on their Eastern journey as far as



THE FUNGFRAU AND THE OBERLAND. 73

Lucerne, and they were endeavoring to persuade Mangere to make
the same decision.

Margaret, who was weary of the countess and of Glion, was quite
ready to leave, but felt that she must turn her face toward Zermatt.
“What do you say, grandpa?” she asked, appealing to Judge Houghton.

“J fancy the aunt will keep a few weeks longer,” replied the old
man eagerly. “I would like nothing better than to visit Lucerne. It
is the William Tell region, and I want that for my lecture. Besides,
the Jungfrau is exactly on the way. We can obtain a fine view of it

~ from Interlaken.”

The old gentleman wisely said nothing of his hope of méeting Mr.
Walker, rightly thinking that for Margaret this would be no argument
in favor of the plan.

Margaret consented to the wishes of the others, only stipulating
that in a week’s time she should proceed to Zermatt.

“Then let us go at’once!” exclaimed Judge Houghton. “ Off,
girls, and pack your trunks, while I look up the route.”

“ How disappointed the countess will be!” Alice remarked. “See
what lovely flowers she has sent us,” and Alice pointed to a superb
bouquet of Alpine roses or rhododendrons, which, however, bore the
~ card of Lajos.

“ Ah, yes! the poor countess,” Margaret remarked carelessly, “and
poor Lajos as well; but they cannot expect us to remain with ee
the rest of our natural lives.”

“Tt seems to me that is exactly what they do expect,” said Mrs.
Newton; “and I feel that it is quite time that we separated.”

Great was the dismay of the countess when our travellers bade her
farewell. “Lucerne!” she exclaimed. “For why do you remove
yourself to Lucerne? Is it not beautiful enough here?”

“Tt is beautiful, dear countess; but we must all go on, Alice to her
mission, Cecilia to Baireuth, and I to my relatives.”

“Fiddlestick!” replied the amiable lady, “zat is all as nonsense.



74 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

You must visit me at my own home; you must go back wiz me to
Hungary.”

It was with great difficulty that Alice persuaded her that this was
impossible for the present, and it was only by promising that she
would try to visit her before returning to America that the countess
was induced to relinquish her hold upon her. Lajos had. gone for a
long tramp up the Rhone valley, and did not’ share in the leave-taking.

The preparations for departure were hastily made. It had been
decided to drive over the Col de Jaman to Thun, and then to take the
steamer across the lake to Interlaken. The carriage was at the door
in an hour’s time; and all took their places in high good humor, with
‘the exception of. Alice, who was a little pensive. Annette mounted
to her seat beside the driver in a tremor of delight. She did not like
the postponement of their visit to Zermatt; but anything was better
than remaining longer under the same roof with this mysterious
woman who might prove to be even the great-aunt herself.

In her trepidation she had written to her Uncle Jakob Lochwalder,
asking him to inquire at The Riffel Hotel, and secure for her any in-.
formation which could be obtained in reference to the Baroness Du Fais.

She would have felt even less assured if she had known that the .
countess had invited Margaret to visit her; and that she was even
now determining that Lucerne would be a pleasant locality to visit on
their return to Austria, a decision in which her nephew was certain
to concur. 3

Judge Houghton’s plot in the meantime was crowned with success,
and the girls were greatly surprised as they took the steamer at Thun
on the following day to meet Mr. Livingston Walker. Their surprise
was mutual, and the Judge’s delight unbounded. The discourtesy of
the hotel clerk was explained; and all placed their camp-stools on
deck, and enjoyed the lovely scenery of the lake in company. The
day was perfect, good humor reigned. The young man’s spirits rosé,
and his grievance vanished. He pointed and named out the castles



THE FUNGFRAU AND THE OBERLAND. 75

on the shore as they passed them, — Chartreuse, Hunech, and that of
Count de Portales. At Spiez the great mountains of the Oberland
came into view; the Eiger, or giant, Monch, or monk, and the Jung-
frau, the virgin, grouped themselves in front, and the Faulhorn and
Schreckhorn ‘on the left. They had seen no such peaks as these
hitherto, and exclamations of admiration were uttered on every side.
Judge Houghton edged his camp-stool close to Mr. Walker’s, and con-
fided, “1 dragged them all away from Glion, much against their will,
simply because I was determined to ascend the Jungfrau with you.”

“What, you wish the ladies to ascend the Jungfrau?” -

“No, no; of course not. They are not equal to it; but it is one of
the things which I came to Switzerland to do,” and he pointed to the
name on his alpenstock. “I must not give up the battle without a
blow. The ladies will wait for us at Interlaken.”
_ Mr. Walker was embarrassed. It was hard to tell this enthusiastic
old gentleman that ‘the climb was too difficult for him, but it was
plainly his duty to dissuade him from the undertaking. He tried his
best to do so, but Judge Houghton was not to be dissuaded. “I am
quite as well able to do it as you,” he asserted with some warmth.
“ And if you do not care to have me as a companion, I will go alone.”
It needed all of Margaret’s tact to soothe his ruffled temper.

“Very well, we will see; we will see,” said Mr. Walker. “The
weather may be unusually favorable; and if the best guides are disen-
gaged, it may not be impossible.”

“We can never get him to the top” the young man thought with
a sinking heart; “but I will not desert him.”

Margaret gave him a look of gratitude, which showed that she
comprehended the situation. It was a delightful thing to share a
responsibility of hers, to know that he was aiding her in any way;
and in such a cause he felt himself ready to carry Judge Houghton
on his back to the summit of the Jungfrau. Their short sail was
quickly over. The steamer stopped at Darlingen, and the passengers



76 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

were conveyed from the lake of Thun by rail to Interlaken or the
twin lake of Brienz. | .

They found Interlaken a gay watering-place, with twenty-five or
more hotels, crowded with guests. Mr. Walker selected for them the
Jungfraublick, on the Hoéheweg or main avenue, a pleasant street,
shaded with walnut trees. The windows of their rooms commanded |
a fine view of the Jungfrau. They were com-
fortably lodged, but the troops of tourists who
were continually coming and going had robbed
Interlaken of its secluded rural air and the
peasants of their unconscious simplicity.

“Beautiful as it is, I would not care to
remain here long,” Cecilia said; and the rest
echoed the sentiment.

Margaret had fancied that she enjoyed rank,
fashion, and wealth; but its continued display
at Interlaken surfeited her. The. orchestra,
discoursing Strauss and Offenbach in the
Kursaal, Swiss peasants metamorphosed into
waiters in full-dress suits, flirting white nap-
kins, and serving interminable glasses of Rhine
wine, imposing equipages, with high-stepping
horses, jingling chains, and gilded harnesses,
a Golconda of diamonds at the breakfast-table,
electric lights and telephones, and the crowd
of invalids and pleasure-seekers, — all wearied
her inexpressibly; and she longed to flee away to some ee



A METAMORPHOSED NA-
TIVE OF INTERLAKEN.

uninhabited wilderness.

If she had thought more deeply, she would have recognized the
fact that she was more dissatisfied with herself than with her
surroundings. .

Judge Houghton on the morning after their arrival arrayed himself



THE ¥UNGFRAV AND THE OBERLAND. : 77



































































































































































































































































THE JUNGFRAU.



in his Alpine costume, and apostro-
phized the Jungfrau from the _bal-
cony of his bedroom in the following
terms: —

‘So there you are, old lady, and
in good humor, not a cloud on your
brow. Just wait a moment until I
have my lunch put up, and I| will
make your more intimate acquaint-
ance.”

Mr. Walker, who had the adjoin-
ing room, heard him speaking, and
opened his blinds.



78 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“Ah! and there you are, sleepy head!” exclaimed the Judge.
“Come, let us be off, or we will not be back in time for dinner.”

“T should think not,” replied Mr. Walker. ‘Why, my dear sir,
there are fifty miles of good climbing between us and the summit of
the Jungfrau, for all it looks so near.”

The Judge was much disappointed, and could hardly believe the
statement; but he descended to
the office and there made the
acquaintance of a young tour-
ist, who had similar aspirations
in regard to the Jungfrau.
Speedily an agreement was
made between them to ascend
the mountain in company; and
the younger enthusiast secured
the services of two of the best-
known guides who happened
to be looking for employment,
agreeing to drive to Grindel-
wald, and to make the ascen-
sion from that point, on Mon-
THE JUDGE SALUTES THE JUNGFRAU. day of the following week.



When the Judge announced

this plan at breakfast, Margaret and Mr. Walker regarded each other
across the table in dismay. ‘“ But you promised to climb the. moun-
tain with Mr. Walker, grandpa!” Margaret exclaimed.

“Mr. Walker is welcome to come with me,” the Judge replied.

“ But you forget that he promised to take us to-day to the valley of
Lauterbrunnen and the Fall of the Staubach, and you wanted to see
that, too.”

“So I did, so I did. I wanted to photograph it for my lecture. Is
there not time for both?” | : aes

«



THE FUNGFRAU AND THE OBERLAND. 79

“Hardly, before Monday; but you can send word to the guides,
_ postponing the excursion,” suggested Mr. Walker.

“Hum, hum!” muttered the Judge, only half satisfied. ‘“ The
guides are positively engaged for the first of next week by this Mr.
Barney Jones, who cultivates athletics, and has taken the prize in
several walking matches. He intends to ascend the Jungfrau, and I
think it would be a good plan for us to make one party.”

“T doubt the expediency of the plan,” Mr. Walker replied. “There
is a great difference between walking in a gymnasium on a level track
and climbing mountains, and every weak link added reduces the
strength of our chain.”

« That may be,” replied the Judge; “but this young man has been
in training for a year, with Alpine mountaineering in view. He’s
something of a dandy, it’s true; but he is acquainted with the members
of the English Alpine Club, and he is provided with all the latest
accoutrements. You ought to hear him talk. He knows why
Whymper failed so many times on the Matterhorn, and what to
do in case of avalanches. I think it would be a great help to
have him with us; besides, it would make the trip-cost less for us
both.”

At this point a servant announced that the carriage ordered to take
them to Staubach had arrived, and the conversation was interrupted.

The Judge hastily pencilled a note to Mr. Jones, saying that he
would not fail to be at Grindelwald on Monday.

“We have escaped one danger,” Mr. Walker said to Margaret, as
they found themselves together for an instant on leaving the table.

«] fear it is only postponing the evil day,” she replied. “Grandpa
is determined on making this ascent.”

“He is no more equal to it than to travelling on foot and alone
across Central Africa!” Mr. Walker exclaimed.

“T know it, and he is just as likely to take it into his head to
attempt the African expedition. What can I do? I feel so uttetly



80 Ae THREE VASSAR GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND.

helpless. I had no idea of the responsibility I was assuming when I
promised grandma that I would take care of him.”

“Don’t worry; trust it all to me. He shall not ascend the Jung-
frau; something shall occur to make him miss this opportunity.”

It had been decided that Mrs. Newton and Annette should proceed
with the baggage to Grindelwald and wait for the rest of the ,party,
who would ride from Staubach over the Wenger Alp to that place.

They dined at Staubach and then struck off from the valley, follow-
ing a bridle-path to the top of the Wenger Alp. It was Saturday
afternoon and they had planned to pass the Sabbath at a little inn at
the top in the solitude of the high Alps. It was an experience never
to be forgotten, proving to be one of the most enjoyable excursions of
their trip. This mountain is considered of easy ascent, and from its
top wonderful views are to be obtained of the giants of the Oberland,
by which it is surrounded, and especially of the Jungfrau, from which
it is separated by a comparatively narrow ravine.

The trip was made on horseback (the carriage which had brought
them being sent back to Interlaken) and a hostler following on foot to
take back the saddle-horses to Stauback. After an hour of rather
steep climbing, they paused at the village of Wengert and looked
down upon the valley, which seemed from that height a narrow cleft.
A rustic came from one of the houses and played upon an immense
Alpine horn for their enjoyment. The blast which he blew was so
mighty that the girls covered their ears and begged him to desist.
The musician seemed accustomed to having his performance received
in this way, and accepted the Judge’s gratuity with smiling satisfac-
tion. Their path wound now through a pine forest. The Judge,
knowing that a fine view would be afforded just beyond, hurried for-
ward, calling to the others to hasten. Cecilia and Alice urged their
horses, and as Margaret and Mr. Walker had alighted and were
~ varying’ the trip by walking, they were left behind with the hostler
~ who:led:their horses. Mr. Walker had been talking enthusiastically |



THE JUNGFRAU AND THE OBERLAND. 8I

of Agassiz, and Margaret listened with interest to the young man’s
description of his master’s life in the Hotel Neuchatelois as he
christened the cabin on the Aar glacier in which he and his friends
- lived while making their observations.

“Just what was it that Agassiz discovered in relation to glaciers?”
Margaret asked. “I know that his monument in Mount Auburn is a
boulder from the glacier of the Aar; but I am ashamed to say that I

‘do not know exactly what Agassiz’s discovery was. It was known
before this that glaciers moved, was it not? You must not infer
everything discreditable to my college from my ignorance,” she added
quickly, noticing the young man’s momentary expression of surprise.
“Remember I am only a sophomore. We take up lithological and
physiographic geology next year.” ;

“ The wildest theories in regard to glaciers were held before Agas-
siz,” Mr. Walker replied. “One scientist read a paper before the
British Academy to prove that they were remnants of the deluge. It
had been proved by actual observation that they moved, but the world
at large had not accepted the proof. Agassiz discovered their rate of
movement and many other phenomena, and drew from them very
broad and overwhelming conclusions, which entirely revolutionized
the theory held until that time in regard to glaciers. The scientist
Hugi had built a cabin on a glacier of the Aar in 1872, and had care-
fully recorded its position in relation to objects near by; and when
Agassiz visited the spot in 1839, he found the cabin four thousand
feet lower down. For ten years he labored among the principal
glaciers of the Alps, ascertaining their rate of motion by determining
by triangulation the exact position of the more prominent rocks, and
returning year after year to mark the change. He made careful
meteorological observations upon the internal temperature of the
glaciers by boring to a great depth through the ice and _nserting
registering thermometers. He caused himself to be lowered into
crevasses, and ascended many peaks regarded as inaccessible, and his



82 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

companions under his direction studied the flora and fauna of the
region, and the mysterious red snow —”

“Pray, what is that?” Margaret asked.

“Tt was discovered. under the microscope to consist of myriads
of infusoria, a low order of plant life. It is not infrequently met with
in this region.”

Shortly after this they emerged from the wood and arrived at the
hotel where a magnificent view opened
before them of the Jungfrau, just across
the ravine of the Trumleten. It seemed
only at the distance of a rifle shot and
all its inmost recesses were opened up
to them, but from this point it was ut-
terly inaccessible. The Judge stood
* among a party gazing spell-bound at
its steep incline wrapped in a long, un-
broken, winding sheet of snow. As he
looked a long rift or crack was dis-
tinctly seen across one of them, suc-
ceeded a moment later by a loud re-
4 port, and an immense cake or snow-field
“ POSITIVELY FWITEFUL.” slipped away from the side of the moun-

tain, coasted down the precipice, bursting
- into a flurry of fine white powder and disappearing in the precipice
at their feet.

“An avalanche!” every one exclaimed in a breath, and a young
exquisite in patent leathers and a silk hat turned and murmured —
“It is fwiteful! It is positively fwiteful. Think of being cwushed
flatter than an opewa hat by one of those beastly avalanches! How
fwitefully disagweeable.”

It was Mr. Barney Jones who had come over armed with all the
approved methods of the Alpine Club, and who then and there





THE FUNGFRAU AND THE OBERLAND. aos

relinquished his ambition of climbing “that blawsted Jungfwaw.
Because it isn’t blawsted, you know,” he explained. “No joke, ’pon
honor, if they would only blawst away the snow, and constwuct a
gwaded pawth, then there would be some weason in the undertaking.”

Other avalanches followed. They were not so frightful to look at,
as to hear; for it was necessary to remind oneself that what seemed
only a flurry of white powder near at hand was miles away, and covered —
a vast extent, while the detonations were tremendous and, conveyed
through the marvellously pure air with perfect distinctness, seemed
‘like the reverberations of thunder. An American is said to have
once remarked of the same scene, “I tell you, when I heard the first
avalanche fall, I thought the whole creation was tumbling to pieces.
And yet ’twas no more to look at than a barrel of flour tipped over!”

The cone of the Jungfrau is so pointed that only one person can
stand on it at once and the last part of the ascension is usually effected
with ladders.

The Judge, seeing that his hero had given up the ascent, also
reluctantly acknowledged it impossible. After supper they all watched
the sunset flushing the peaks, and dying away into cool gray, then the
mists. rose from the valleys and shrouded the mountains, and a cold
wind from the Jungfrau seemed to freeze the marrow in their bones.
The moon was coming up and touching the crests and turning them
to mighty silver candlesticks, but the cold grew more and more intense
and they were glad to take refuge by the blazing fire of the inn. The
landlord’s daughter played on the zithern, but the room was filled with
tourists, and when thoroughly warmed the girls retired to their simple
bedroom. They lay awake for some time listening to the notes of the
zithern rising from the room below and softened by distance, and
watching the white moonlight streaming in from the large window
until moonlight and music melted into their dreams.

The next morning nearly all of the tourists went on their journey.
The landlord told them of some open-air preaching within walking



84 THREE VASSAR GIRLS. [N SWITZERLAND.

distance, and the rest set out for the convocation. The preacher was
very simple and unimpassioned in his address, but the peasants ‘listened _
devoutly with bared heads, and the singing, with the great mountains
all about them, was very impressive.

“This is the grandest cathedral I ever saw,

“T was reading to grandpa only the other night what Ruskin says
of the mountains,” Margaret said, as they walked back to the little
hotel. “I copied a part in my journal,” and Margaret read : —

“« They seem to have been built for the human race as at once their
schools and cathedrals; full of treasures of illuminated manuscript for
the scholar, kindly in simple lessons to the worker, quiet in pale
cloisters. for the thinker, glorious in holiness for the worshipper.
Great cathedrals of the earth, with their gates of rock, pavements of
cloud, choirs of stream and stone, altars of snow, and vaults of purple
traversed by the continual stars.’ ”

They spent the afternoon in a secluded foot reading quietly part
of the time, or talking in subdued tones, but listening more frequently
and watching for the avalanches which, loosened by the mid-day sun,
plunged at intervals into the gorge. They had lost the sense of fright
which the first impression of the mountain and the precipice had made
upon them, but the feeling of awe deepened. All the life of Interlaken
and its like seemed petty and contemptible; great thoughts and
aspirations filled Margaret’s soul; it seemed to her that she had never:
been so near God before.

The next morning they descended to Grindelwald, walking all the
way, and accomplishing it before dinner. No one was wearied but
Judge Houghton, who was kindly assisted by Mr. Walker. The
_ grand peak of the Wetterhorn rose in front of them, and the Faulhorn
loomed on their left toward the north, while on the right was the
lower glacier of Grindelwald. It was their first view of a real glacier.

»”

said Cecilia.

-—a great frozen river composed by the alternate melting and freezing
of the snowfall on the different peaks, and the snows of each season

















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE WELLHORN AND WETTERHORN.







THE FUNGFRAU AND THE OBERLAND. 2 87 ‘

pressing. downward and onward the deposit of the last. The Fin-
steraarhorn is the centre of the glacial system of the Oberland, from
its sides and between it and the surrounding mountains sweep the
great glacier of the Aar and its smaller branches. The Finsteraarhorn
has rightly been called the “monarch of mountains.” It overtops all
its surrounding brothers, rising to the height of fourteen thousand one
hundred and six feet. One author says of it, “It rises up like a huge
tower from the Hetsch glacier, Viescher glaciers, Grindelwald and
Finsteraar glaciers, and looking as if in rising it had dragged part of
them up with it; for there are pillars and buttresses of ice. reaching
to its topmost summit, and connecting it with its neighbors on the
east and west, the fair Jungfrau, the round-headed Monk, the sharp-
pointed Eiger and gloomy Shreckhorn, the Wetterhorns (and others),
which stand on either side of the monarch and form his court.”

As they passed the Grindelwald glacier Mr. Walker gave them
much interesting information in regard to it and other glaciers. He
explained the origin of the curious mushroom-shaped tables and the
small wells; the former caused by the larger stones shading the ice
beneath them and keeping it from melting, so that while the surface
around was lowered by the action of the sun the rock was hoisted
in air by an ever-growing pedestal. The small stones, on the contrary,
are heated through by the sun and cause the ice to melt more rapidly,
forming the narrow wells.

The Judge remarked on the size of the stones in the moraine at the
foot of the glacier. He had not supposed that the debris would be so
considerable or so difficult to cross.

“Then you have not heard the definition of a moraine given by a
member of the Alpine Club?” Mr. Walker asked; “the young man
described it as one hundred thousand cartloads of stones carefully
piled up by Nature on scientific principles with a view to the dislo-
cation of the human ankle.”

Grindelwald was wilder and more simple than Interlaken. There



88 «THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

were fewer tourists and the peasants more unsophisticated, though the
girls were still importuned to purchase wood-carvings and lace, and
small boys followed them with specimens from the glacier, crystals
and pebbles, and bouquets of Alpine flowers. At this point they
rejoined Mrs. Newton and Annette, who had not cared to take the
mountain excursion, and here in front of the hotel they found Mr.
eo Jones in hot altercation with one of the guides who had
been engaged to ascend the Jung-
frau. The young athlete was as
eager now to give up the excursion
as he had been to undertake it;
but the guides held him to his
bargain, and the hotel-keeper took
sides with them. The Judge of-
fered to pay the sum which he
had previously agreed upon to
settle the matter; and Mr. Walker
stepped in as mediator.

“Tt isn’t the money,” said the
recusant Alpinist, “but the howid
cweatures seem to regard me as
their lawful pwey and are deter-
mined to lug me along body and
bones. Ill pay the fellahs what-

MR. BARNEY JONES IN DIFFICULTIES. ever Tve pwomised if they'll only
let me off from making the twip.”

This being explained to the guides, everything was amicably
arranged, and from Grindelwald our friends proceeded on the next
day to Meiringen. Here Mr. Walker took leave of them, turning off
toward the right on his way to the hospice of the Grimsel and thence
to the glacier of the Aar. Annette suggested that this was the most
direct route to Zermatt, and all regretted the ending of their pleasant





THE ¥UNGFRAU AND THE OBERLAND. 89

intercourse, and none more than Mr. Walker himself. Judge Houghton
would gladly have accompanied him, but the young man assured
Margaret that the mountaineering which he must now undertake was
much too difficult for the Judge. “The Rigi is quite enough for
him,” he said to her; “and I think that when he has once made that
ascent he will be satisfied. I would like very much to take him with
me across some of the passes. After [ have finished my Agassiz
pilgrimage, I would like to make such a trip as your friend thought of,
and follow up Napoleon as an engineer. I will be through with my
glacier work in about a month from the present time. Have I your
permission to join you then?”

“Grandpa will be delighted to go with you, I am sure,” Margaret
replied. “We shall be at Zermatt in all probability.”

“That is a dangerous point for any one afflicted with the manza
scandens. Tf your grandfather manifests any wild desire to scale the
Matterhorn, write me at the Grimsel, and I will fly to him at once.”

Margaret laughed, but underneath the apparent lightness on either
side, she was certain that here was a friend who could be depended
upon in any real need; and he knew that he was ready to do all that
he had said, and more than he dared to offer, for her sake.



go THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND,

CHAPTERGV I.

LUCERNE.
Yonder lies
The lake of the Four Forest Towns, apparelled
In light, and lingering like a village maiden.
; t i Overhead,
Shaking his cloudy tresses loose in air,
Rises Pilatus with ‘his windy pines.
LONGFELLOW.

HEN the party took the diligence at Meiringen, which. was
\ \/ to carry them over the Brunig towards Lucerne, even the
weather seemed to sympathize with the low state of feeling
caused by the parting. All the skies in the Oberland had been fair;
all their days bright and pleasant; but now a heavy fog wrapped the
mountains. As they alighted and looked back, just before reaching the
post-house on the summit of the Col de Brunig, hoping to obtain the
traditional farewell view of all the mountains whose names end in horn,
a dense gray curtain was stretched between them and the “ Delectable
Mountains,” and Margaret felt that all the beautiful past was blotted out.
At Alpnach Mr. Walker had told them to look for the chute, down
which logs are slid from the pine forests on the slopes of Mount
Pilatus to the lake, a distance of eight miles. The slide is paved with
over twenty-five thousand trees, stripped of their bark, and laid at an
angle of ten to eighteen degrees. Logs shoot down the eight miles
in less than six minutes.
It was not actually raining when they reached Alpnach, on the
shore of Lake Lucerne, but Annette pointed to Mount Pilatus tower-
ing above them, and repeated the old German proverb: —



LUCERNE. gt

“Hat Pilatus sein hut

Dann wird das Wetter gut,
Trigt er aber einen Degen
So giebts wohl sicher regen.

Which has been translated : —

If Pilatus wears his hood,

Then the weather’s always good ;
If he draws his dirk again,

We shall surely then have rain.

They looked, and saw that, instead of the round cloud which
usually caps the mountain’s head, a ragged, cloudy streamer, shaped
something like a waving i
sword, was flying like a
storm-signal toward Lu-



































cerne. A storm of wind,
the avant-courier of the
tempest gathering in the
Oberland, was evidently
raging at the top of the
mountain, though unfelt
in the lower air.

“What an excellent
place that would be for
Old Probability’s office,”
the Judge remarked.

“ But not an enviable













station for the signal offi- PILATUS, LAKE OF LUCERNE.
cer,” Margaret replied.

“There is an interesting legend connected with the mountain,”
said Cecilia; “have you never heard it?” When the bustle occa-
sioned by their transfer from the diligence to the little steamer which



92 THREE VASSAR. GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND,

was to convey them to Lucerne had subsided, she told them the
legend somewhat as follows: —

“ After the death of the Saviour, Pilate so greatly mismanaged the
government of Judea that he was recalled by Tiberius to Rome, and
an examination made into his affairs. Most mysteriously the emperor
cleared him, and re-instated him in favor. Other charges were made
against him, with like result, when it was suggested that Pilate used
magical arts to maintain his influence over the emperor. He was ex-
amined by his enemies, and it was discovered that he wore the Saviour’s
robe as an amulet underneath his toga, and when this was stripped
off, the emperor immediately threw him into prison. Here Pilate
committed suicide, and his body was cast into the Tiber. Storms and
tempests visited Rome, and the indignant river cast the corpse upon
the shore. It was then carried into Gaul and thrown into the Rhine;
but the heathen river also refused to cover the criminal, and after
many vicissitudes the body was finally sunk in a little lake on the top
of the mountain which now bears the Roman governor’s name. Even
here he refused to rest, until exorcised by a travelling student from
Salamanca, learned in the Black Art, who laid him under a spell,
forcing him to consent to but one holiday during the year, and that
on Good Friday. On this night a terrible figure, dressed in the red
robes of magistracy, is sometimes seen by ae peasants, pul whoever
beholds him dies aD the following year.”

‘“What nonsense,” commented the Judge; “does the superstition
still exist?” s pees

‘Hardly now, but it died a lingering death. It was said that
Pilate’s anger was excited whenever the water of his lake was dis-
turbed. At one time all persons were forbidden to visit the lake, and
a guardian was posted on the mountain side to keep them at a
distance. In 1337 six priests were imprisoned for ascending the
mountain. In 1518 four enlightened men obtained permission to
investigate the myth. They ascended the mountain, hurled stones





































HOTEL NATIONAL, LUCERNE.







LUCERNE. 95

into the lake and dared Pilate to do his worst. Oddly enough a
severe storm followed, and the superstition was confirmed.”

Almost as Cecilia finished speaking, the storm which had been
gathering about the head of the haunted mountain burst upon them,
first in violent gusts of wind which nearly tore their hats from their
heads, and then in a steady down-pour of rain. By this time, however,
the boat had nearly reached Lucerne, and they were soon housed in
the Hotel National which fronts the quay.

Their baggage had arrived before them, having been sent on from
Interlaken, and the girls were soon engaged in dressing for dinner
—a custom which had not been kept up in the Oberland.

Margaret gave a little sigh as she shook out the ruffles of her
embroidered Swiss gown, and heated her hair-crimper in the gas.
“T feel as if I had been lifted out of myself, and had been allowed to
fall to earth once more. I don’t believe it will be so easy to be good
here as it was among the mountains. I foresee that now we shall
have Glion over again.”

Her foresight seemed to have something prophetic about it; for
as they entered the dining-room, a tall man in heavily frogged and
decorated military dress rose from a table at the extreme end of the
room and came forward to meet them, while a little old woman in
black, who occupied the next seat, flourished her napkin and_ beck-
oned wildly with a tall fan.

Alice exclaimed, ‘‘ Lajos!” and Margaret, “The Countess!” but in
very different tones.

The Countess was evidently overjoyed. She kissed the girls all
around, not even forgetting Alice, but she saluted Margaret on both
cheeks and held her off and gazed at her with rapture. “How well
you are looking! And you have on ze dress I gave you. It becomes
to you very well. Where have you been all zis time? It is an
eternity I have wait for you.”

“It is only four or five days, countess, and we have had a ee
tively heavenly time.”



96 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“The scenery was magnificent,” Alice was saying to Lajos, “but

really it was a little lonely.”

“JT am glad of that,” replied Lajos. “Aunt and I have been

devoured with loneliness.”

“But Glion was not a desolate

pat

STOCK QUOTATIONS.



wilderness, and Lucerne does not

seem to be deserted.”

“ True, the hotel is crowded,
but what objectionable people!”

“ There is one comfort,” Mar-
garet remarked as she surveyed
the d¢able d’hote, “Calumet and
Hecla are not here.”

“J have found some one very
similar,” Lajos replied. “An
American who monopolizes the
newspapers in the reading-room,
actually sitting on those which
he is not reading, but making

up for it by obligingly giving |

quotations from the stock mar-
ket, and shouting at intervals:
‘Bell Lelephone,) arm land
steady!’ ‘Pullman Car, active!’

‘ Atchison ‘depressed!’ ‘Copper falling!’ or other ejaculations as

remarkable.”

The countess had purchased tickets for them for a concert to take
place that evening. “How did you know that we would arrive

to-night?” Margaret asked.

“She has bought them regularly every evening,” Lajos explained;
“and you see she has kept these seats for you at this table, assuring
the head waiter every day that you would certainly be here for the

next meal.”



Full Text


od









RCORIEH :
0 Zug: =
Lucerne }

a,
Neuchatel D ;
g
‘Alte.
¢ Fripoury only ape

Bre
PER, NZ

Interlaken










al
Chur

fastanne



IG .
NStGutthara
at ie ter
Gammi Pass Z
Ston : 3.
Shnpiah Pass -
<< vi Sy
9
see ert & at
i . Matlerhorn : of
: }eRptouny : he gtitonts Rosa P Wy
Ment Blanc 3 Ga-Sc Bernard 4° aS
Monte R sie I
East Haenine Lysicam mx Trons
ices 14 148 E 14 237 13974 Fa)!
ees IN atin. Castor x

SS Avan eee ee me if
a Ao ree ee ir : nen eb ia Ss ee

ie aie 5 a {lt i see
Soe ‘e me SN ea



Dent Blanche N-New Weighorn
1a. 4@)





Ws a 4
Z 25 ah Cae
Siew ANN

12170



: The Baldwin Library i
* | University











0
5

|
lh
q|






je













Zp zi eat "CH a = : Ly
et Pe ee, ,
; ye i | \ iS MM YO

Ne Zy ‘Z Fa



) aly






\e= ae
Wes \y eee
\ AZ <-Sa MATTERNMORN
eithorn: ee ———————— : Uae FEE SY,
12°76 Wi os Ta, = SS







un

se
ta

































Â¥Gvrat meay, WZarIRMAT? ,
MISQJABEL STocsHoRN
wor. Kateeet 2.90 ‘luoss, Sas
Uy no INovet : : 12907 11.033) no) a
‘ : arte)
Ze Ee ONE ;
il
é iy
/ Wi NY Yi Yj»
YEN AY HES Mf WW YY yy Uj WW
WY WA HUY YY
WO Lae } YI
DIT oer MM WY) CMM


Be

Ulead nud
ce dedeg
Abrouy due


THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.
THREE VASSAR GIRLS.

BY














ELIZABETH W. CHAMPNEY.
ae

THREE VASSAR GIRLS ABROAD.
THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN ENGLAND.
THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SOUTH AMERICA.
THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN ITALY.
THREE VASSAR GIRLS ON THE RHINE.
THREE VASSAR GIRLS AT HOME.
THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN FRANCE.
THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN RUSSIA AND TURKEY.
THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

Me

ae

ESTES & LAURIAT, Publishers,

BOSTON, MASS.

*

=
Ves Se (UC
(Sy a

= es ee



=

aii
F SE

= eo
= —— - : =
?

Shs
ii
S=—

l

gl
ii,





















































































Ll

1.
z a
é =
; SF;
=

|

SSS SIS
5 = SSS

atej see SS

a
ine SRA NES | RONEN
RS = SERS

NSS —— = = = z z
2S SIENA eh) Se = : : 2 ,

a WS

Wn



AT THE ALTDORF FESTIVAL,
THREE VASSAR GIRLS

SWITZERLAND.

BY

BEWARE A TE Were ries Vi INGa

AUTHOR OF “A NEGLECTED CORNER OF EUROPE,” ‘“‘ THREE VASSAR GIRLS ABROAD,”
“THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN ENGLAND,” ETC.

ILLUSTRATED BY ‘‘CHAMP”

AND OTHER DISTINGUISHED ARTISTS.

BOSTON:

PSE Ss & LAURIAT,
PUBLISHERS.
COPYRIGHT, 18g0,
By ESTES & LAURIAT.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
CHAPTER

18

II.
rie
IV.

VI.
VII.
VII.
IX.

XI.
XII.
XIII.
XIV.

CONTEN IS:

A SKELETON KEy AND Marcaret’s MISTAKE
ANNETTE’S REVENGE .

GENEVA .

THE Counress

THE JuNcrRAU AND THE OBERLAND
LucERNE

Tur TELL FESTIVAL

Our Lapy oF PovERTY

Lire at THE ALM

Losr

THe WaGNER FEsTIVAL. BAVARIA .

THE Farry Cow.

THE Great St. BERNARD AND Mont BLaNnc

Tue FETE DES VIGNERONS

PAGE

Il
20
34
51
72
go

. 106
nes

. 143

5 GF
. 192
. 205

- 222

ILLUSTRATIONS.

At the Altdorf Festival .

Margaret. .

Annette . ‘

The Castle of Mec ;

St. Cecilia as Mediator .

Grandfather Houghton .

A Swiss Mountain Torrent .

An Alpine Waterfall .

“ Do You want to go to Prison or to Switzer-
land?” essere en hats

Grandfather Houghton in Alpine Costume

* Mer de Glace,” Mont Blanc.

Alice Newton . ; :

The Girl in the Hading’ Veil .

Calumet and Hecla .

Lord Highnose

Mr. Walker . e

The Hotel Neuchatelois

The Prisoner of Chillon .

The Countess

Lajos .

“Calumet and Hecla is up!”.

Peasant Waitress . :

The Dent du Midi from above the Lake of

Geneva :

The Countess enthroned :

The Entomologist receives the Apology

A Metamorphosed Native of Interlaken .

The Jungfrau Fi

The Judge salutes the janetc :

- 65

PAGE

I2
13
15
21
24
.
27

31
37
39
41
42
43

45
46
47
52
54

57-

58

59

68
76
77
78

“ Positively Fwiteful!” .

The Wellhorn and Wetterhorn

Mr. Barney Jones in Difficulties .
Pilatus, Lake of Lucérne

Hotel National, Lucerne

Stock Quotations .

Annette takes her Departure .
Bridge of Lucerne 3
Margaret and Alice discuss Lajos
The Rigi, from Lucerne.

A Swiss Maiden :
Tell’s Chapel, Lake of Lucerne .
Costume of Peasant of Unterwalden
Railway up the Rigi . :
The Comforts of Donkey-riding .
On the Brink of a Precipice

The Matterhorn

Katchen .

Yakob Lochwalder

A Goatherd of the Zermatt Valley
Yakob accepts his Relatives .

The Accident on the Matterhorn
The Real Thing at last .

The Great Aletsch Glacier .

Mother Lochwalder . ,
Rescuing Party on the Matterhorn .
On the Matterhorn

Abbey of Einsiedeln .

Frau Selig .

Minna

- 166
. 169

PAGE

82
85
88
gt
93
96
99

. 102
- 109
. IIL
Lis

. 114
. 116

. 170

- 179
. 182

PISBe
10 - ILLUSTRATIONS.

&

PAGE
A Devotee of Wagner . . . . . . . . 184
Listening to “ Parsifal,” No.1 . . 2+. . 185
Listening to “ Parsifal,” No.2. . . . . 185
NVitseNewtongern ets men eect nian ates Nel S 7
On the Ficht_lgebirge . 2. . 2. . . 188
Nicolasey Ct een TO”,
A Peasant of Zermatt . . . ‘ - . 199
A Peasant Woman of the Zermatt + Valley PeveR OL
The Great St. Bernard . . . e200)

ee the Brave Dog of St. Bernard . . . 213

FRhenbar oO nvemaac cae canst eee
Baroness of Hohenschlosse

“To think that I was like that! ”
A Student of Berne .

High Street, Berne

Katchen Americanized .

‘At the Festival

Taking it all in
Vintage Festival, Vevey
Kisfaludy Janos

PAGE

5 BG
. 217
. 218
220
B22
. 227
. 228
. 229
ol aR
» 233
THREE VASSAR GIRLS

IN-

SWITZERLAND.

2-093 00 —_—_.

CEA aT Ra cle

A SKELETON KEY AND MARGARET'S MISTAKE.

grand-niece of a baroness.”

The speaker was Annette Stauffer, a Swiss girl, ex-seam-
stress and waitress in Margaret’s home. She spoke to herself, ex-
citedly, as she rapidly packed her trunk, for she had just given a her
situation.

“Shall I furnish the missing link in the chain of evidence, and
prove her the child of one of the proudest houses of Austria? No;
she is arrogant enough as she is. She has treated me as if I were ie
earth to be trodden upon. She is a bundle of selfishness, through and
through. She cares for no one but herself. If it were Miss Boylston,
so kind and thoughtful of others, so gentle and so generous, I would
work my fingers to. stubs to serve her; but My Lady Disdain, zever.”

_ Annette was wrong. Margaret was not wholly selfish. She pos-
sessed magnificent qualities, capabilities of self-sacrifice and devotion ;
but these were as yet undeveloped, and hidden under the crust of a
love of ease. It was true that she was haughty, and apt to exhibit
a fine scorn of everything mean and base; but the scorn was more
frequently excited by moral meanness than by low rank in the social
‘scale. Rank of intellect and heroism commanded an almost over-

| ND to think that by a word it is in my power to prove her the

It
12 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

weening admiration from her, and it was her special heartburn that
none of her own family had distinguished themselves in any way.
She would have liked to be a leader in society for some real merit of
_ her own, or of her ancestors; and she was a leader among her friends
and associates both at home and at col-
lege, for the good and sufficient reason
of ability. The name of Margaret Duf-
fey figured as President of the Phila-
lethean Society, President of the Young
Women’s Christian Association, Presi-
dent of the Tennis Club, of the Dra-
matic Association, of her class, Senior
Editor of the A/zscellany, and Chairman
of the Executive Committee of half a
dozen other organizations. It was ‘a
vexation to her that it was such a ple-
beian name — Margaret Duffey! It had
a genuine Irish sound. One would im- -
agine, on reading it, that it belonged to
a laundress. She had said this before
Annette, and the sewing-woman’s gray
eyes had snapped viciously. “She de-
spises all the laboring class,” Annette
Fe ae thought, ‘‘and me with the rest.” But
Margaret was not thinking of Annette

at all. ‘What makes it all the more vexatious,” she added, speaking
to her friend Cecilia Boylston, familiarly called Saint, who was visiting
her that summer, ‘‘is the fact that it is not really our name at all.
Grandfather came to this country a political refugee, and changed
his name to preserve his zzcognzto. He might have chosen a pleas-
anter appellation, when he had so unlimited a choice. When father
was a boy he was told our real name; but would you believe it, he


A SKELETON KEY AND MARGARET'S MISTAKE. Deas

attached so little importance to it that he forgot it. He can only
remember that it.sounded like Duffey, but was more aristocratic.” |

‘Did your grandfather leave no relatives in Europe?” Cecilia
asked, while Annette, who was sewing in the corner, pricked up
her ears. .

“Yes; there was a little sister Margaret, of whom he was very
fond. When I was born he insisted that father should name me for
her, and he wrote to her of my
birth. Grandfather was an old
man then, and when the reply to
the letter came from my great-
aunt he lay on his death-bed.
He charged my father to keep
it for me, as it might prove to
my advantage some day.”

“Surely, Margaret, this let-
ter must give you all the infor.
mation you wish.”

“Information! That is just
what it does not give. It is full
cf expressions of affection for
her dear elder brother, for the
nephew whom she had never
seen, and for the little name-
sake, who, she hopes, will some
day visit her god-mother. But
the letter is dated, simply, ‘ The ANNETTE,

Riffel, and signed ‘Greta.’ I

know that The Riffel is in Switzerland; but father has an impression
that we are not of Swiss extraction. I have a picture of the Weier-
' burg, which I fancy looks like the home which she: describes.
Annette listened greedily. She longed to see the letter of which


14 : THREE VASSAR GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND.

Margaret spoke, for her own home was near Zermatt and the
Riffelburg. “Perhaps I knew her great-aunt, or at. least, could help
to find her,” she said to herself; but she did not mention this to
Margaret, or ask to see the letter. This was not her way of
procedure.
She fancied that when she was not present people must be talking
about her, and she listened at keyholes to learn what they were saying.
Pierre, the gardener, meant, simply, that she had a suspicious nature,
when he remarked that Annette was “naturally surreptitious”; but
the statement was perfectly true as it stood. It was not possible for
Annette to be frank and open-handed. She was frightfully cross-eyed,
and watched you narrowly, when she appeared to be interested in
something in the opposite direction, and this physical defect seemed
to have affected her character. She had a cross-eyed way of accom-
plishing all her designs. She was consumed with curiosity to ascer-
tain Margaret’s ancestry, and she would ascertain it; but Margaret
should never know that it interested her in the least. So she sewed
the ruche into Margaret’s best gown, and thought with glee of the
skeleton key in her pocket, and that she would have two good hours
to rummage for that letter, while the young ladies were at the lawn
party, for Mrs. Duffey was away from home. She needed all the time;
for it was not in the little secretary through which she looked first,
nor in the safe under the stairs with the silver, nor in the japanned
tin box in which Mr. Duffey kept his stocks and bonds, or in any of
the bureau drawers, or behind the sliding panel over the mantel, a
secret hiding-place where Mrs. Duffey kept her jewels, which Annette
had discovered the second day after her arrival; but it dropped at last
out of the atlas where Margaret had carelessly left it in searching for
The Riffel. Annette sat down and read eagerly. The letter was
written in a delicate foreign script, in Austrian-German, very easy

for Annette, but puzzling for Margaret to decipher. It ran as _

follows : —










































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE CASTLE OF WEIERBURG.

A SKELETON KEY AND MARGARE?T’S MISTAKE. 17

“ RIFFELHAUS, SWITZERLAND, July, ——




_ “My Dear BrotHer,—I cannot tell you how overjoyed I am to
_ receive your letter. I had not heard from you for so long, that my
eart imagined many tragedies. And so I am a great-aunt? That
-sounds almost like a grandmother. The honor comes to me early,
owing to the great difference in our ages. Only a child when you
went away to America, but I remember the sorrowful day very clearly
still. There are some things which are so branded into our memo-
ries that we can never forget them.

‘But the little girl! I am glad that she has come, and that you
have named her for me. My god-daughter as well as grand-niece.
Some day, now that our calamities seem to be overpast, she must
come to her Aunt Greta. I shall not be such a very old woman when
she is grown. I hope she will want to come tome. Tell her the way
to the old home beside the mountain, with the window overhanging
the precipice, from which they say you used to fish for swallows, with
a fish-line, when a boy. Tell her all your old haunts, and I will show
them to her. How you used to love to hang over that balcony! I
remember that once you rescued a little dog that had fallen into the
valley. You made a slip-noose, the loop of which was a handkerchief,
and, passing it over his body, drew him up to your window. A few
days since, I saw a peasant girl of Zermatt draw a lamb out of the
torrent which ran under her balcony, in much the same way, and the
action reminded me so of you that I brought her home with me as
my maid” —

%
:
.
:
é
C

There had been something familiar to Annette in the story as
Margaret had told it; but with the incident of the lamb it all came
back to her. Without any doubt, the Austrian Baroness who spent
that same summer, eighteen years ago, at the Riffelhaus, with whom
Annette, then a young peasant girl, served as maid, was Margaret’s
great-aunt. She remembered rescuing the lamb, and that she did it,
18 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

not from any feeling of mercy, but because she was fond of roast
mutton. To make assurance doubly sure, there was the Baroness’s
crest on the waxen seal, so indistinct that Margaret had not made it
out, but Annette could trace the firebrand held by a gauntleted hand.

And how like Margaret was to her god-mother, —the same impe-
rious manners. Strange that she had not noticed the likeness before,
—and as fond of riding on horse back. So absorbed was Annette in
_ the letter that she did not hear a light step on the stair, or look up
until Margaret stood before her and snatched the letter from her hands
in a rage of indignation. “What do you mean by reading my letters?”
she exclaimed. “How dare you? And my desk open! How did
you manage that? What? A skeleton key! Annette, you are a
thief.” | |

Annette sprang to her feet, the color flaming into her pale face.

“Tam not. What have I stolen? Look in my trunk, look in my
room, look everywhere.” ;

“I do not care to look. I am not one of the prying kind.”

“T demand it. You called me a thief. Prove that it is so, or else
you lie. What have you ever missed?”

The two angry women stood facing each other as Cecilia entered
the room with a calm, ‘‘ What is the matter?”

Margaret showed the skeleton key, and told her story.

“ Appearances are against. you, Annette,” said Cecilia. “What
explanation have you to offer? What possible need has an honest
woman of a skeleton key?”

“My brother was a locksmith; he made it for me, so 1 need not
trouble myself with a great many keys,—one for my trunk, another
for my room, another for my bureau.”

“Very convenient; and equally so for all of our locks, I presume.”
This from Margaret, in her most sneering accents.

“Be itso. Iask again, what have you ever missed? I have been
with you four years. I could with that key unlock your safe, your
A SKELETON KEY AND MARGARET'S MISTAKE. 19

father’s money-box, your mother’s jewel-case, everything,— that is
true, — but what has been stolen since I lived with you — nothing —”

“Ts this true?” Cecilia asked.

“T believe it is,” Margaret replied. ‘I have been too hasty, and I
apologize. You are no thief, Annette; but you are what I despise
just as much, —a prying, spying, suspicious eavesdropper. No; you
needn’t speak up. I stumbled over you the other day, in the entry,
when I opened the door more quickly than you expected. You were
_ listening, and you can’t deny it. I absolve you from any intention of
a stealing. It was probably curiosity, and nothing else, which led you
" to ransack my desk and read my letters. If not, what motive had you
for spying into my affairs? Are you a special detective?”

_ There was only one way for Annette to vindicate herself, and she
told a part of the truth.

‘“T heard what you said this morning, Miss Margaret, of a letter

_ from your great-aunt, from The Riffel. You know I come from that
region; and I wanted to see if possibly I knew her, and I found
| that I did.”
“What, you knew my Aunt Greta?” Margaret exclaimed excitedly.
“Tell me about her! Is she alive? Can I find her?”
It was Annette’s turn to triumph. “I knew her, I could help you
find her; but you have called me a thief, you have resented my prying
into your affairs. I will have nothing more to do with them. I leave
your mother’s employ to-day. You may tell her why. But I shall
call, on Saturday, for my wages, and for a recommendation for honesty,
_ Miss Margaret, for honesty, and for minding my own business. Do
you understand?”







20 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

CHAE VER lk

ANNETTE’S REVENGE.

HEN Margaret became sufficiently calm to consider the
matter coolly, she felt that she had made a great mistake in
allowing her temper to make an enemy of Annette.

“My angry passions are always getting me intg trouble,” she said
remorsefully. “1 can never learn to hold my tongue, and count an
hundred. And now I shall never find my fairy god-mother.”

“ Perhaps it was only a piece of bravado on Annette’s part, by way
of revenge.”

“No; she is truthful as well as honest, and not quick at invention.
There was too much genuine triumph in her eyes. I have narrowly
missed a great piece of good fortune.”

“Tf you really regret having spoken as you did, why don’t you go
right to her and apologize?”

“Tt would be of no use. But Saint, dear, she dotes on you; inter-
cede for;me.” :

With many misgivings, Cecilia tapped at Annette’s door. “ Who’s
there?” was the ungracious response; but on hearing Cecilia’s voice,
the maid unbarred the door. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks
swollen; she had been weeping passionately. Cecilia put her arms
about her and gently soothed her. ‘“ Margaret is very sorry,” she said,
after a time. ‘“ Will you not forgive her?” ee
- The girl stiffened instantly. “If Miss Margaret is sorry, why does
she not come and say so?”

“She will, if you will let her—”

ss She can do as she pleases; it makes no difference to me.”




ANNETTE'S REVENGE. 21

“But it makes a difference to Margaret. She has a good heart,
and regrets that she has caused you pain.”

Annette sniffed scornfully. Cecilia remained with her some time
longer, but could only make her agree not to leave the house until
Mrs. Duffey’s return that evening.

There was a family council on the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Duffey.
Seated around the library table, they discussed the matter in all its
bearings, while Annette
listened in the entry.

Mr. Duffey was of the
opinion that the girl’s

BERS
ZG




;
freaks were not worthy . Ji SSG
of consideration. “I have Mis, . ‘ ANS 7, hj

. lived without my precious Z ee
relative all my life, and I (iJ oe Qi
can do without her now. iO ro
If she had cared for me a
in all these years, she en MH
might have looked me a
up.” MU il

‘But her kind letter
was never answered, was ;
it, Theodore?” asked gen- ST. CECILIA AS MEDIATOR.
tle Mrs. Duffey. “She
must have thought that it never reached its destination, or that we
did not care to keep up friendly relations.”

“It was never answered, because, when it arrived, father was too
feeble in mind to attend to it, and he was the only one who knew the
address. She was only staying for a short time at the Riffel Hotel;
and I have no idea where the old home that she speaks of is. It may
be in the neighborhood, and it may be miles away. It is my opinion
that Annette knows nothing about the matter.”


22 i THREE VASSAR: GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“It seems strange to me, father,” said Margaret, “that you never
inquired more about your family from grandpa.”

“ Father very early showed me that such inquiries were useless.
‘I am a proscribed man, by no fault of my own, under penalty of
death,’ he confided to me. ‘I have no longer any country or antece-
dents, no home or family, except that which I can found here. The
past is closed behind us; let us look only to the future.” If I had
known more, I might have endangered his life; but having no secrets
in my possession, I could not divulge them. I have reason to believe
that letters not unfrequently passed between my father and his sister;
but hers were always carefully destroyed. This is the only one which
has been preserved.”

“ And this looks forward to a happy meeting with the little Greta,

‘now that our calamities are overpast.’”

“T used to think she might come to this country,” said Mr. Duffey;
“and I confess there was no great pleasure in the anticipation. After
I had the honor of so respectable a connection as with your mother’s
family, I used to wonder what my honored father-in-law would say if
a Nihilistic female with a carpet-bag full of dynamite should some day
dismount from an omnibus at our doors, and exclaim, ‘I am your long-
lost aunt!’ I tell you what, Greta, you had better let well enough
alone. Your grees -aunt is an unknown auanbey, and we are very
happy as we are.’

“But your father was not a criminal,’ Mrs. Duffey remarked.
“He was a perfect gentleman, Theodore; and my father respected
him highly. Whatever his misfortune, it was no fault of his, I am
sure.”

, “And if aunt is an unknown quantity, there is the possibility that
_ she may be a lady of rank,” Margaret suggested, “a baroness, per-
haps—” (There was a slight noise in the entry.) “And at any rate,
we shall ascertain what our real name is; and it can’t be worse than
Duffey.”
ANNETTE'’S REVENGE. 28

‘““There is only one chance out of a million of your drawing a
rize,” Mr. Duffey insisted, practically. ‘ Suppose you discover some
ery undesirable relatives, if not actual criminals,— poor, ignorant
easants. This Aunt Greta is an old woman by this time. Imagine
er poverty-stricken, disagreeable, diseased —”

Then for an instant Margaret showed her better nature. ‘In that
ase, father, is there no duty laid on us? We have enough and to
pare. Is it not dishonest for us to leave a relative in possible





Mr. Duffey looked at his daughter in surprised admiration. “ And
_ if she needs more than money? I could furnish that,—but if she
needs personal care and attention?”

“I think you would find that I would not fail.” Margaret spoke
modestly but firmly; but Annette in the entry gave so loud a sniff of
scornful doubt, that Mrs. Duffey started.

Did you hear that noise? It reminded me of a snake in the
rass.” :

‘More likely a rat in the arras, @ Za Hamlet,” replied Margaret,
ointing significantly at the entry door. No one sprang to open it;
Il were agreed that the best policy now was conciliation.

‘‘And do you agree with your daughter’s sentiments?” asked Mr.
Duffey.

“Certainly,” replied his wife. ‘Only prove that she is your aunt,
nd I will receive any one.”

“J wonder whether the Judge would agree with you.”

“T think it would be better to consult with father, of course,”
said Mrs. Duffey; “he has such excellent judgment.”

It was at once decided to adjourn the council to the home of
Mrs. Duffey’s father.

~The family found Judge Houghton deeply immersed in making
jottings from his scrap-book collection of the “Doings of the New
York Geographical Society.” So absorbed was he that, ordinarily




24 THREE VASSAR ‘GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

punctilious, he had forgotten to take off his high hat. He greeted
them all effusively, however, and began to talk at once.

“T am arranging for my summer vacation,” he said briskly; “and
Iihave been looking over all the lectures that have been given before
our society. I want to do something this summer that I can utilize
in a lecture, with stereopticon views, at Chickering Hall this winter ;
and I have decided that the Higher Alps are just what I want.
Don’t some of you want to go with me? Mother, here, thinks she

is too old for mountain-





eering.”

“T will go with you,
grandpa,” Margaret spoke
up promptly. ‘At least,
as far as The Riffel, if
that’s in your itinerary.”
GY “The very place to start

Wk

SS
Su
SRS
SSS
=
ee
SS
SSS

S
es

—

\
~S

SS

SN
SS
we =a
=
S

SSS
Se

' taineering: just at the foot
of the Matterhorn and the
Weisshorn and Monte
Rosa, and Mont Blanc
within a stone’s throw, so
to speak.

“Only look at this panorama outlined in Baedeker, of the view
from the Gorner Grat, near the Riffel Hotel, and listen while I read
a description of it from William H. Rideing.

‘““*QOn the one side the broad stream of the Gorner Glacier sweeps
along beneath our feet, and across it rise the huge mountains by which
the ice stream is augmented: Monte Rosa— Queen of the Alps—
with her coronet of peaks; the wedge-like mass of the Lyskamm; the
Snowy Twins (Castor and Pollux); and the long, craggy ridge of the
white-capped Breithorn. Then comes a break, as the eye sweeps over

GRANDFATHER HOUGHTON.

| from for the best moun- .
REN















TOR

a
e
H
Z
2
3

WISS M

Ss

A





ANNETTE'S REVENGE. 27:



the plateau traversed by the well-known Théodule Pass, to rest on the
grandest sight in all the Alps, the marvellous Matterhorn, seen in one







































AN ALPINE WATERFALL.

of its most impressive aspects, — an obelisk of snow-flecked rock, four
thousand feet in height. . Beyond this comes another company of
giants, the peaks from the Dent Blanche to the Weisshorn. There
28 THREE VASSAR GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND.

is no spot in the whole of the Alps, accessible with such ease, which
commands a grander panoramic view; nothing of the kind surpasses
in grandeur and beauty its circle of peaks and glaciers.’

“ There, Margaret, have you followed me carefully, and found all
the names mentioned on the outline ? x

“Yes, grandpa.”

“Well, The Riffel is just the locality for me to take as my centre
of operations. I am glad you have been thinking of the same
place.” ;

“T really think some one ought to go with you and take care of
you, father,” said Mrs. Duffey. “Margaret is just the one. You can
make a great many excursions together. She’s a great walker.”

_“T know it, I know it,” exclaimed the old gentleman in high glee.

“Margaret will have her hands full,” said anxious Mrs. Houghton.
“You are entirely too old, John, to go trampoozling over the moun-
tains, when you might rest your bones comfortably at home.”

“Too old! Look at the other members of the club! I’m an infant
compared with the best travellers.”

“That is true,” replied Margaret; “it is a most venerable assem-
blage. When I look down upon it from the gallery, the bald heads
have the appearance of white stones peeping up above water from a
ford. I often imagine myself skipping from one to the other, across
the entire length of the hall.”

“You dreadful child! Is there no Prophet Elisha, to call down a
troop of bears, to punish such irreverence?”

“No, grandpa; and the bears are too busy, down in Wall Street,
to care for naughty me. But listen “ae we tell you ay I have
decided to go to Switzerland this summer.’

“J did not know you had decided,” said Mr. Duffey. “I thought
it was to be submitted to your Grandfather Houghton; and I am sure
he will disapprove.”

But Judge Houghton, Aeneas posses to some extent, by his
ANNETIE’S REVENGE. 29

own desire to avail himself of so lively a travelling companion, looked
on the scheme with favor.

“We need not commit ourselves to anything,” he said. “ We can
simply find out, or try to find out, the truth. The first thing to do is
to ascertain what Annette really knows. Have you made it up with
her, Margaret?” ; :

“T am afraid not, grandpa. This miserable business has taught
me to try to keep a tighter rein on my temper. I went to her, after

Saint had labored with her, and apologized; but she would not utter
one syllable. I am afraid she will not help us.”



“We will see,” said the Judge. “I'll dine with you to-morrow.
_ Let me deal with her.”
“But will she remain?” asked Margaret. ‘She only promised













Saint to stay until she had spoken with you, mamma.”

: “T have given her no opportunity to speak with me, as yet,” said
_ Mrs. Duffey. “I think we can manage an interview.”

Annette, after her white heat of passion had subsided, was not
anxious to lose her good situation; but her decision that she would
not to carry into effect her threat of leaving the family, did not argue
any forgiveness of Margaret. On the contrary, she was convinced
hat she could better revenge herself by remaining near her, and that
neither the pincers of the Inquisition, nor any amount of kindness,
would either wrest or coax from her the information which was so
much desired. :

It will therefore be readily understood that Judge Houghton, with
all his legal wile and acumen, had a difficult subject to handle.

He began in a conciliatory way, and assumed that Annette would
gladly assist them, for a little compensation.

“You are a good girl, Annette,” he remarked; “and I understand
that you send back a very large proportion of your earnings to your
family in Switzerland. You are doubtless very fond of them. When
do you propose to go back for a visit.”


30 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

Annette answered, very truly, that, much as she desired this, she
was too poor to think of even a steerage passage.

Ah!” exclaimed the delighted strategist. “Then you will be
pleased to learn that I contemplate taking a trip to Switzerland, with
my granddaughter, this summer, and I would be very glad to engage
your services as her maid. All expenses paid, my good Annette, both
going and returning, and a vacation for you, after we are fairly
installed in some pleasant hotel,—a vacation of several weeks, in
which you can visit your family. How would you like that?”

Annette’s eyes shot forth a momentary gleam of pleasure, but a
cold gray sheath of suspicion was instantly drawn over them.

“And in return?” she. asked.

“Oh! In return, you could render my granddaughter any trifling
services she might require, as lady’s maid and companion. You know
the language, and the country, the best routes, the regular fares, and
all that sort of thing. You could be of great service to us in enabling
us to dispense with a courier. And then, another thing, — my grand-
daughter’s main object in visiting Switzerland is to look up her father’s
family. Perhaps you could help us in discovering them.”

“Perhaps? But certainly I could help you, —if I wished. Is that
one of the trifling services of which you spoke, to be included in my
duties as lady’s maid?”

“No, no. That, of course, should have eal compensation. If
you enable us to discover Margaret’s great-aunt, I will pay the pas-
sage of any two of your own relatives who may want to emigrate to
America. Come, now; isn’t that generous?”

“It is sufficiently generous.”

“Then it’s a bargain?”

“ No, sir.”

“What conditions do you ask?”

“JT will not do it on any conditions.”

“Indeed! Highty-tighty, young woman, better think that over
ANNETTE’S REVENGE. 31

again. Do you know I can make you give me this information?
Perhaps you would prefer being committed to prison, to this tour of
which we have just been speaking?”

“No one can compel me to speak; and I can keep my own
counsel.”

“But this isn’t your own counsel. That’s the point. You have,

or pretend to have, valuable knowledge.”
iLudnaye: tits:
“Very well, You have information valu-
able to my client, which you refuse to render.
It is hers by right of law; and the law takes
you in hand in the same way as if you were
. withholding other valuables from her. Now,
what are you going to do about it? Don’t be
_a fool, Annette. Consider your own interests.
Do you want to go to prison, or do you want
to go to Switzerland? Answer me that.”

Annette was a coward. She did not doubt
udge Houghton’s power to imprison her for
ife; and she was just about to surrender,
hen Margaret entered the library, and Judge
_Houghton repeated the alternatives, as he had
et them before the girl.

“No, Annette,” Margaret exclaimed impulsively. “I will not allow
ou to be prosecuted, even if you insist on keeping this secret from
e; but I beg of you to be magnanimous, and to help me find my
aunt. Think how you would feel under the same circumstances.” ,
Annette looked up. Apparently, she was regarding the stuffed owl
n the top of the bookcase; in reality, she was studying Margaret

















“DO YOU WANT TO GO TO
PRISON OR TO SWITZER-
LAND?”

_ “How do you know that you will thank me, when you have found
her? She may not be the grand lady you expect.” -
32 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

‘“Then, so much the more is it a sacred duty on my part. Annette,
I shall never blame you, whatever be the result.”

“ Suppose she is dead, or moved away, so that I cannot find her?”

“T shall not blame you for that, either.”

“Then I call you and Judge Houghton to witness that you bring
it all on yourself; that I did not want to undertake this business, but
that, between you, you make me do it.”

Annette did not yield from any magnanimity. She had no faith
in Margaret’s assurance that she would not be imprisoned if she
persisted in her refusal. Moreover, she had really decided not to aid
in the discovery; but apparent yielding would extricate her from her
present disagreeable position, and give her time to think of some
mode of evading the issue. .

So, while Margaret thanked and praised her effusively, she main-
tained a stony silence, still simulating an intense interest in the
stuffed owl.

“And now,” said Judge Houghton, “that these preliminaries have
been satisfactorily settled, let us proceed to the real matter in hand.
Will you be so good as to tell us, Annette, all that you know of my
granddaughter’s great-aunt? In the first place, how did you happen
to know my granddaughter’s relative? ”

Annette related the circumstances of her engagement as maid.

“And what was the lady’s name?”

Margaret bent forward eagerly. The hated name of Duffey was —
about to be lifted. Annette saw the intense expectation, and she |
could not satisfy it at that moment, if her life had depended upon it.

‘“No,” she exclaimed, a hysterical sob rising in her throat; “not |
now, not now. I have told enough, I have endured enough. I have ©
promised to help you find her; but it must be in my own way. Let me ©
go. Ican stand no more.” And turning abruptly, she left the room.

Judge Houghton looked after her in astonishment, “Well, this is .
a most extraordinary young person!” he exclaimed.


ANNETTE’S REVENGE. Tess

« Annette is peculiar,” Margaret answered. “You have gained a
great concession; and it will not do to press her too far. Let her
take her own way, and we shall lose nothing by it.”

But in her own room Annette was going through another of her
rages. “I never shall tell her, never! If it were Miss Boylston, yes;
but Miss Margaret! I will go to prison first. She thinks, now, that -
her aunt may be poor and mean. Let her torment herself with that
idea. If she only were a beggar, or a cvetin/ She says that she
would accept her, whatever her condition. I would like to see her
put to the test. What would my lady do if she should find that her
relatives were of the peasant class? Her aunt an old crone like my
grandmother, living in a den like our chélet? She thinks that she
would accept the situation, would not be ashamed of her relations, and
would bring the old‘aunt back with her to America. She would do
nothing of the kind. I would ask no sweeter revenge than to see her
look of horror on making a discovery like that.”

Annette paused in her monologue. An electrifying idea had sud-
denly struck her, and she stood transfixed, then clapped her hands
three times over her head, and laughed like a mad woman. She had
found her revenge.
34 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND. —

x

CHAPTER III.
GENEVA,

Within the Switzer’s varied land,
When summer chases high the snow,
You'll meet with many a youthful band
Of strangers wandering to and fro;
Through hamlet, town, and healing bath,
They haste, and rest as chance may call.
No day without its mountain path,
No path without its waterfall.”
Lorp HouGuHTon.

LL were surprised, the next day, to see Annette of her own
accord ask for another interview, and to hear her volunteer
the most helpful information. She said that Margaret’s great-

aunt was known in Zermatt by the name of Madame Lochwalder; but
she, Annette, pretended to suspect that this was an assumed name.
Her real one she professed not to know. She felt sure that she was
still living at Zermatt, for her uncle had mentioned in his last letter
that Madame Lochwalder had bought his mountain chéleé, to be fitted
up as her summer residence, and had engaged him as her head
dairyman. —

A letter was at once dispatched, informing Madame Lochwalder
of her new relatives.

Annette tried her best to get possession of this letter; but Mar-
garet carried it to the post-office and mailed it with her own hands, |
and all Annette could do was to write a letter of explanation, which
she sent by the same mail to her uncle, who was really the son of
Madame Lochwalder.
GENEVA. ; 25



















“J have ascertained,” she wrote, ‘‘that my employer is the son of
your Uncle Jacob, who ran away to America so long ago. They have
grand notions that Jacob was a nobleman in disguise, which will all
be disappointed when they come to see you, with me, as they intend
todo. They are wealthy people; and, though they will.drop you all,
as if you were hot coals, when they see how poor you are, still they
will doubtless leave us the richer for their visit, if only to bribe us not
to follow them to America, and disgrace them by proclaiming our
relationship. Much can be gained from them, if we only manage well
our opportunities. I enclose an answer to a letter which grandmother
will receive from these people. I have written as I thought was best.
It is well that grandmother cannot write, or she would spoil everything
with her goodness of heart. Leave the matter to me. She must not
expect any real kindness from these new relatives; they will despise
us, and be ashamed of us.” .
It had first occurred to Annette to tell her uncle the truth, and
admit that she was playing a clever deception for their own benefit;
but on reflection she was sure that her family were too honest to join
her in such a plot, and that even if they had been so unprincipled as
to be willing to play their parts, they would be more naturally carried
out, and with less risk of detection, if they really believed in the
relationship. Madame Lochwalder, it happened, had a brother who
had emigrated long before this to America, an this circumstance
aided in carrying out her scheme. /
The letter which she had enclosed in her own, and had sent to
Switzerland, came back to Margaret in due time.
It read as follows : —

‘ZERMATT, April.
“My Dear Granp-Nisce,—I am rejoiced to find you, after all
these years. I have long felt that my brother must have died, since I
no longer heard from him. It is strange that his son did not receive
my letters. I am glad that you are coming to Switzerland. You will
36 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

find your relatives glad to welcome you. Perhaps we shall induce
you to remain with us. I long ago decided that if I could ever dis-
cover my brother’s descendants I would share with them my earthly
possessions while I live, and leave them my little estate when I die.
Iam an old woman, and cannot live many years longer. I trust you
will come very soon, to
“Your affectionate aunt,
“ MARGARET LOCHWALDER.”

This letter decided them all, or would have decided them, if there
had been any hesitation about the journey to Switzerland.

From this time forward everything favored the trip. Cecilia Boyl-
ston, a former Vassar girl, who had studied music in Germany after
her graduation, and had taught in Boston since her return, had
decided, previously to the events just related, to attend the Wagnerian
festival to be celebrated that summer at Baireuth. She was readily
persuaded that to go wa Switzerland was really the most direct route,
and gladly joined the party. Grandpa Houghton renewed his youth,
and laid in a small library of Alpine literature to be read during the
voyage, including all the guide-books on Switzerland, from Wagner to
Murray, and accounts of the travels of noted mountaineers. (As these
were principally in German, he trusted to having them translated by
Margaret.) Several volumes of the Alpine Journal with the doings of
the English Alpine Club, Mr. Whymper’s account of his long-con-
tinued siege of the Matterhorn, Professor Tyndall’s “ Scrambles,”
Agassiz for geology, and Ruskin for art, with many other books, were
added to the collection.

_ Besides the library, he purchased a large stock of articles likely to
serve him in the Alps. No prospective bride ever enjoyed the shop-
ping necessary for the preparation of her évousseaw more than Judge
Houghton the buying of his mountain outfit. There was a Kodak
camera and other photographing appliances, an Arctic sleeping-bag, a








GENEVA. 37

spirit-lamp, and (though he was politically and practically a prohibi-
tionist) a flask of spirits, a rifle for shooting chamois, remedies for
_chilblains, blue-glass spectacles against snow glare, and ice-spurs to
steady his footsteps. That he did not make himself as ridiculous an
object as Daudet’s Tartarin, was simply owing to the fact that he
proposed purchasing his alpenstock, pickaxe, rope, lantern, etc., in
Geneva. The books were packed in
a steamer trunk and slipped under
Judge Houghton’s berth, for ready
reference; but stormy weather kept
him uncomfortable, and the trunk
was not once opened during the
voyage.
Grandma Houghton, relying on f SHAAN
Margaret’s care, awoke to a mild in- a Pi
terest in the expedition, and knitted yy ba
her husband a pair of very warm Yip ia na : a i
yh i

mittens. She also sent his overcoat q vi
to the tailor’s, to be faced with 74% Hy me

y







i

fur; exhumed from the camphor- “OM | “
chest an ancient cap with ear-tabs, aN Mt HM
and packed away his gentlemanly iN \ | j
beaver, lest, if he had it with him, ANY

he might be tempted to wear it in
ascending Mont Blanc. The result
of this wifely care was that Judge
Houghton wore his mountain cap on a warm Sunday in Paris, and
was the observed of all observers.

The party made a brief visit in Paris, but, on a bright day in early
June, left the city by the Orleans Railroad, va Dijon and Macon, for
Geneva. Margaret found this city disappointing, but Lake Leman, or
as it is more often called, the Lake of Geneva, was very beautiful.

GRANDFATHER HOUGHTON IN AL-
PINE COSTUME. ‘
38 : THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND. -

“Tt was Goethe who first said that lakes are the eyes of the landscape;
and as our glance, perusing the living traits of a man, is never satisfied
till it reaches his eye, so, on the earth, we seek after water, and are
not quite content till our attention, long vagrant, rests in peace upon
it.” Lake Leman is the largest of the Swiss lakes. It has been said
of it that, though it lacks the grandeur and sublimity of Lucerne and
Thun, and the marvellous color of the Italian lakes, for bright, laugh-
ing beauty it is pre-eminent.

Margaret would gladly have taken the train for the south of Switz-
erland, but while they were in this region her grandfather insisted
on making the tour of the lake, and, before doing this, in going through
the city in true traveller’s style. It would make a paragraph for his
proposed lecture in Chickering Hall; and Margaret found, during the
summer, that much was to be sacrificed for this famous lecture.

She went patiently with him as he made his visits to the watch
manufactories, and took copious notes for his lecture, both from actual
observation and from printed authorities. She would read these aloud
in the evening, and Judge Houghton would express his opinion.

“Excellent, excellent!” the old gentleman would comment, after
such a reading. ‘“ That is just what the members of the Geographical
Society will want to hear. Copy it neatly for me, my dear. I only
wish I had brought my typewriter.”

Their first view of Mont Blanc was obtained at Geneva, with the
lake in the foreground. ‘ How delightful it will be to make the
ascent!” Judge Houghton remarked cheer et “Tt does not look
nearly as difficult as I imagined.”

But when he took Turner’s “ Liber Studiorum” from his steamer-
trunk that evening, and studied the etching of the Mer.de Glace, in
which the savage character of the glacier is greatly exaggerated, and
the great causeway is represented as a chaos of jagged splinters, he
shook his head doubtfully, and hoped there was some easier way.
His assurance increased as he bought ‘his alpenstock the next day.




















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































““MER DE GLACE,” MONT BLANC.

' GENEVA. Al

It was topped with a chamois’ horn, and pointed with a sharp iron
ferrule. ‘We will have the names of the mountains you have
ascended branded on the staff free of charge, on your return from
your tour,” the tradesman kindly offered.

Judge Houghton reflected a moment. “We are not certain to
come back this way,” he said. ‘I think it would do just as well to
mark the names of the peaks I intend to
ascend, now.”

‘As you please, sir. What mountains do
you wish? The Rigi, I presume. That is
quite easy to climb. And the Brunig.”

“Certainly, certainly. But I want some
of the celebrated peaks too,—the Jungfrau,
and Mont Blanc, and the Matterhorn.”

“Those are rather difficult to ascend,”
the tradesman replied with a smile.

“«What man has done man can do,” ’
Judge Houghton remarked cheerfully and
confidently, with refreshing ignorance of
what he was attempting.

At the Museum of Natural History the
stuffed chamois excited his enthusiasm, and
he inquired for the taxidermist who had
mounted them. “I shall send him all the -ALICE NEWTON.
-game.I shoot,” he remarked, as he made a ;
note of the address. “I think I shall make a present of the collec-
tion to the New York Museum of Natural History.”

“Suppose it should not prove to be a very large collection,
grandpa?” Margaret suggested mischievously, but was glad that the
old man did not hear her. It was at the Archological Museum,
and while examining an ancient boat, one of the relics of the lacrus-
tine period, that Margaret met another Vassar girl, Alice Newton,











42 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

an old friend of Cecilia’s, and now a missionary to Bulgaria. She had
come to Switzerland to meet her mother, who had been recently left
a widow, and, having no other near ties in America, had decided to
join her missionary daughter, and aid her as a volunteer.

Alice was delighted to meet Margaret, for Vassar is a pass-word
among its alumne. “I have been living for a week in Geneva with
mother,” she said. “I have a little va-
cation, and I do not want to hurry her
to Bulgaria. I shall return by way of
the Danube. I hope our routes lie the
same way.”

_“ Unfortunately,” said Margaret, “we
travel in quite another direction.”

“ But it happens very nicely for me,”
Cecilia explained, ‘since I must part
from Margaret and the rest of the
party when they turn southward. 1
shall be very glad to have you as a
travelling companion. We can journey



SSN
SS
SNS

He
yy i Bho
He : \ WA together as far as Bavaria,
oh LO “And we are not going south im-
AY WEA raat :
YEN f Wee mediately,’ Grandfather Houghton re-
Hi

\. 1 yo marked confidently. “It would be a
shame to give less than a fortnight to
THE GIRL IN THE HADING vert. this lovely lake and the interesting

' towns on its shores. So there is no
need of talking about our ways separating, at present.”

Grandfather Houghton liked young girls. He enjoyed Cecilia’s
society, and Alice’s calm, placid face had made a pleasant impression
upon him. “It’s a pity that you are not at our hotel,” he added.
‘There are plenty of people there, but no one that the girls seem to
take to particularly. Though that pretty girl in the Hading: veil
strikes me as rather nice.”


GENEVA. 43

Margaret laughed merrily. ‘Grandpa is so. impressionable,” she
explained. “The girl in the veil is pretty, but that is all there is to
her, —and she has the most dreadful mother. They are Americans
living abroad on their in-
come. The father, I infer
from the mother’s interest
in business, is no more.”

“ How does the widow
show her business facul-
ty?” Alice asked.

“ She takes the Ameri-
can papers and reads the
stock quotations while she
eats her breakfast, inter-
rupting whatever conver-
sation may be going on CALUMET AND HECLA.
by such exclamations as
‘Calumet and Hecla’s up! Now, Betty, you can buy that embroid-
ered muslin you wanted.’ Or, ‘The land! Betty. Calumet and
Hecla’s down. I’m sorry I ordered that music-box.’”

“You describe her very well,” said the Judge. “She’s something
of a terror, but she’s better than the men. She’s American, at least,
and I can understand her; but my Lord Highnose and I haven’t a
notion in common.”

“Js that a real name?” Alice asked, much amused.

“Only a nickname that Margaret has given him. We thought he
was an Englishman; for he is deplorably ignorant in regard to
America, and seems to take a positive pride in displaying his igno-
rance. He asked me, for instance, if Calumet and Hecla were two
noted race-horses, or Mississippi steamers! And then it came out
that he hadn’t the excuse of being an Englishman; for he said that
he had been absent from the States so long that he had rather lost








44 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

the run of affairs. When I told him that Calumet and Hecla was a_
favorite kind of stock in the market, and that the lady was interested
in Wall Street bulls, he said, ‘Ah, yes! a lady drover and cattle raiser.
| How very extraordinary!’ Iam glad
that we are soon to see the last of
these people.” a,

The girls assented, and Alice asked
if there was really no one at their
hotel who was more interesting.

“Yes,” replied the Judge; “there
is a young scientist, whom I rather
like. He is on his way to make the
ascension of the Jungfrau, and in-
tends to scramble about in the Ober-
land all summer. He’s a Harvard
student, and his name is Livingston
Walker; and —‘Speak of an angel’

LORD HIGHNOSE. —the young fellow is entering the
Museum now. May I present him?” |

The young man proved to be intelligent and courteous. Their
conversation drifted to the work and fame of Professor Agassiz.

alteam glad to find,” said Judge Houghton, “that at least one
American scientist is recognized here in Europe. I have found his
name several times in the Museum.”

“The Genevese would probably claim him as a Swiss scientist,”
the young man replied. “He was born at Motier, in the Canton de
Vaud, not very far from us, and educated in Swiss and German uni-
versities. You know his first work that attracted attention was on the
fresh-water fishes of Europe; and I can imagine him as a boy an
enthusiastic angler in the Swiss lakes. Later, he extended his re-
searches to fossil fishes. He became Professor of Natural History at
Neuchatel, on the lake of the same name, north of us. I have just


GENEVA. 45

returned from a visit to the city. I found the museum rich with col-
‘lections which he had named and classified, and the library, with
learned treatises from his pen. Yes; the Swiss can certainly claim
him, though we have also the right to do so. At present, lam making
an Agassiz pilgrimage, following his footsteps everywhere in Switzer-
land. It is a labor of love, in every way, I assure you.”

“Quite an idea,” exclaimed the enthusiastic Judge. “Let us, also,
visit Neuchatel, and make an Agassiz pilgrimage.”

Margaret bit her lip. ‘“ As we return, grandpa, if you like; but just
now, please remember how impatient I am to reach Zermatt.”

“ True, true,” assented the old gentleman. “It will do just as well
to go there when we come back. And meantime, I have his ‘ Re-
searches on Glaciers’ in my trunk, which you may read to me in the
evening; and perhaps I can bring a part of it
into my lecture.”

“If you are interested in glaciers,” said Mr.
Walker, “we may possibly meet on the great
glacier of the Aar. I shall be making studies
next month in the vicinity of Agassiz’s cabin,
which he jokingly called the Hotel Neucha-
telois. I shall be happy if I can be of any
service.” é

Margaret bowed. She did not care to have
her grandfather’s interest drawn from Zermatt. _-
and she asked if the glaciers at the foot of the
Matterhorn were not as accessible as those of
the Aar. “ More so,” replied the young man;
“and Agassiz has mapped them. I mean to Rin au tcees
work around to that point before the end of
the season; and somewnere I trust, I may have the pleasure of
meeting you again.”

The wish was areticaly sohiees Sy the Judge, and the young


46 THREE VASSAR GIRLS [IN SWITZERLAND.

man withdrew, the others passing into the library founded by
Bonnivard.

“ He was the true prisoner of Chillon,” Alice said, “‘of whom Byron
had not heard when he wrote his poem.”



pee
Se eae



THE HOTEL NEUCHATELOIS.

“ Bonnivard?” remarked the Judge questioningly. “I don’t quite
recollect his history.”

“He was the Prior of St. Victor, you know,” Alice replied. “He
was a patriot, too, and greatly opposed to the usurpation of the Duke
of Savoy; and the duke had him carried to Chillon, and kept there
as a prisoner for six years.”

“How did he ever get out?”
GENEVA. 47

“Tn 1536, the people of Geneva assaulted the castle from the lake,
and rescued him.” :

“It seems to me they took a long enough time to make up their
minds to do it.” This from Margaret. —

“That reminds me,” said the Judge, “that we must certainly visit
~Chillon; and I think it would be pleasanter to go by the lake. I
wonder if there is not some pleasant little place at the other end of
Lake Leman which we could make our headquarters, and then take |
excursions from it to Vevy,
Clarens, and other interest-
ing points.”

“Glion is just the spot,”
replied Alice. “Mamma and
I are going there. The Pen-
sion Victoria has been rec-
ommended to us as a home-
like, charming little hotel,
situated .on a commanding
height, and giving one beau- THE PRISONER OF CHILLON.
tiful views in every direction.”

“ A good place to practise mountain climbing, eh! Then, to Glion
let us all go. A few days more will suffice for Geneva; then fare-
well to Calumet and Hecla.”

The morning of the next day Judge Houghton spent in looking up
a music-box. He succeeded in finding. a fine one, which played the
air of a song by Grieg, beginning, — :



“The winter may perish, the spring pass away,”

which Cecilia sang charmingly, and which was a prime favorite with
the Judge.

After the music-box was purchased, it proved quite an elephant.
Judge Houghton would not hear to its being packed in the trunk, and
48 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND,

left to the tender mercies of baggage-smashers ; and it was accordingly
wrapped in Cecilia’s water-proof, and carried by a shawl-strap. As
they walked back to the hotel from the shop, a slight jar set the
mechanism in motion; and people whom they met or passed turned
to wonder what was the source of the fairy music. Among these was
Mr. Walker, who smilingly asked, “Is this the Banbury Cross lady,
of whom it was said that ‘she shall have music wherever she goes’?” |

“Tt is disagreeable, is it not, to be made so conspicuous ?” Margaret
remarked, as Mr. Walker relieved her of the burden.

“Tt is a familiar air,” replied the young man, “ and the words set to
it are very beautiful.”

“J think them very sentimental,” Margaret replied, with a, toss of
her head. “I thought, last night, while Cecilia was singing them with
so much apparent feeling, that it was all great nonsense.”

“So,” thought Mr. Walker, “our young lady is not the least bit
romantic. Well, I like her all the better for it.”

The Judge, however, took up the cudgels in favor of the little love-
song. “Mr. Walker must hear Cecilia sing it,” he said. “Mrs. and
Miss Newton are to dine with us this evening; and after dinner, if no
one else has taken possession of the little music-room, perhaps Mr.
Walker will join us there, and we will have some music.’

Mr. Walker responded. gratefully to the Judge’s invitation, and
fortune favored them, in providing some fireworks in the public gar-
dens, to which the other guests of the hotel gave their countenance.
The hotel parlors were deserted, and the Judge escorted Cecilia to the
piano.

From singing, they fell to chatting of ie great names connected
with Geneva, of Rousseau, of Velie and Calvin.

Mrs. Newton, who had a refined, serious face, a typical mother, as
Margaret expressed it, was a clergyman’s wife, who delighted in her
daughter’s work. She joined in the conversation enthusiastically and
intelligently.
GENEVA. 49

“There are many interesting lives that have been influenced by
these mountains,” she said; “but to me, Calvin is far the strongest.
You know he fled to Switzerland when he embraced Protestantism.
It was from. Basel that he wrote his famous preface to Francis I.,
which has been called one of the most memorable documents of the
Reformation, ‘from its intensity of feeling, its indignant remonstrance,
and its pathetic and powerful eloquence.’”

“T wonder whether Calvin was really influenced by the ‘ mountain
gloom,’ of which Ruskin has so much to say,” Cecilia remarked.

. “T think not,” Alice replied; “for his life in Switzerland was spent
chiefly here in Geneva, where nature has a very cheerful aspect; but
he may well have drawn his dogmas in relation to ‘ Irresistible Grace’
and the eternal decrees of God from the irresistible onward ee of
the glaciers and the stability of the everlasting hills.”

“T am not drawn to Calvin as I am to Luther,” Cecilia remarked
musingly. “He seems to me the Torquemada of the Protestant
Church.”

Judge Houghton began to fear that their missionary friends would
prove rather heavy companions, but Alice considerately changed. the
subject. She had that valuable quality which we call tact, the power
of adapting herself to her friends, and of making herself beloved by
widely differing individuals. “What led you to be so greatly in-
terested in Agassiz?” she asked of Mr. Walker. “ You are certainly
too young to have been one of his pupils, even at Penikese.”

“Tt is the regret of my life that I came into the world too late to
be his pupil,” replied the young man. “But I had the privilege of
studying his wonderful collection at Cambridge, and I feel that in that
he has left me a rich personal legacy.”

“You are a geologist?”

“Tam fond of the natural sciences, but they are only a luxury for
me. My profession is to be that of a civil engineer; and part of my
business here in Switzerland is to study the passes and the railroad

é
50 THREE VASSAR GIRLS [IN SWITZERLAND.

engineering of the Alps, in the hope ee I my some time improve
upon them in our Rocky Mountains.”

The return of “Calumet and Hecla” from viewing the fireworks
reminded Mrs. Newton of the lateness of the hour, and she and Alice
took their leave, Mr. Walker escorting them to their penszon.

During the few days that they remained in Geneva, some playful
chance was continually throwing the young people together. Did
they walk in the gardens, Mr. Walker was sure to appear near the
statue of Rousseau. At church, on Sabbath, the sexton oddly showed
him into the pew behind them. In the photograph shops, Mr. Walker
turned the portfolios. Did they take a drive, Mr. Walker cantered up
beside them in the most off-hand manner.

“ This is getting monotonous,” Margaret said to Cecilia, on their
last evening in Geneva, as the waiter handed them Mr. Walker’s card;
“but there is one comfort, there will be an entire change of dvamatis
persone at Glion.”

Mrs. Newton and Alice dropped in a little later, and the evening |
was one of the pleasantest which they had passed in Geneva. Was
it the sense of coming relief which made Margaret more than usually
gay and sparkling, and really courteous to the “Monotonous Walker”?
If so, she must have been a trifle nonplussed when he asked, as he
took his leave, if he might be permitted to call on them at Glion, on
his way to the Oberland? The request was addressed to Margaret;
but apparently she did not hear it, and the Judge filled in the
awkward pause with a profuse welcome, and Mrs. Newton, in response
to a gentle pressure from Alice’s hand, added a gracious assurance of
favor.
THE COUNTESS. 5I

CHAPTER IV.
THE COUNTESS.

“Glion ? Ah, twenty years, it cuts
All meaning from a name!
White houses prank where once were huts;
Glion, but not the same.

“And yet I know not. All unchanged
The turf, the pines, the sky!
The hills in their old order ranged!
The lake with Chillon by!”
MATTHEW ARNOLD.

UR travellers were enchanted with their first view of Glion,
the picturesque villas and hotels gleaming on the green moun-
_ tain side. A funicular railway carried the guests of the hotels
up the steep slope to their destination; but the Judge preferred to
begin his mountaineering by walking to the hotel, and Margaret ac-
companied him, the rest mounting by rail. It was a longer walk than
they had counted on, and the Judge’s bandanna came out frequently
to wipe his perspiring brow; but the view was superb, and refreshed
their spirits when they paused to rest. There was the Castle of
Chillon at their feet, and the sapphire lake dimpling in the breeze, and
flecked with white sails, the nestling towns and villages on the shore—
Montreux, Clarens, and Vevey —all plainly visible. In the direction
of the Gorge of the Rhone, the Dent du Midi and the Alps of the
Valais lifted white fingers of snow, as one traveller has so well said,
« As though the hills themselves were holding up their hands in
everlasting homage.”
52 THREE VASSAR GIRLS: IN SWITZERLAND.

Margaret stood afterwards before many scenes surpassing this in
grandeur, but never felt herself more thrilled by pure beauty than
now. The Judge was exhilarated, and as happy as a child. “If all
Alpine climbing is as easy as this—,” he remarked; “but then, of
course, it can’t be.”

At a sudden. turn
they came upon a little
old woman resting by
the roadside. She was
dressed plainly, but her
garments were of rich
material, and she was
presided over by a ser--
vant in livery, who held
a parasol over her, and
fanned her assiduously.

“Enough, animal !”
she cried spitefully, in
French. “You will give
me the consumption, with
such a current of air.



You are worse than an

pak io Alpine hurricane, you

blacksmith’s bellows.

Put away that fan, and hand me my lorgnette.: Let me see what
manner of creatures these are.”

The footman obediently folded the fan and handed his mistress
her eye-glasses, and the little woman coolly submitted the Judge and
Margaret to a broadside of scrutiny. “A grizzly bear,” she remarked,
still speaking in French; “an American bear. I know the species.
Hold, he has with him a little savagess. Their air is amiable. I will
speak to them.” And dropping her eye-glass and totally changing
THE COUNTESS. Be

her manner, she addressed them in odd English, with a slightly foreign
accent.

“ Make. your father to be seated, my dear young lady. He has ze
air to be fatigued. My servant will bring him a glass of water from
ze cascade yonder. Animal, approach ze water.” (This to the
footman, who incontinently fled to execute the errand.)

‘Margaret, who had heard and comprehended her soliloquy, would
have declined her courtesy and proceeded; but Judge Houghton
did not understand French, and, as he was really weary, eagerly
availed himself of the proffered civilities, seating himself on the
stone parapet beside the stranger, and mopping his glowing coun-
tenance,

“JT am very glad to meet any one who speaks English, ma’am,” he
said, by way of keeping up the conversation; for Margaret stood at a
little distance, apparently absorbed in the view.

“You are zen English?” asked the lady.

« American, ma'am; American. Allow me to introduce myself.
Judge Jonah Houghton of New York.” He paused, but the lady did
not respond to the introduction by giving her own name, and he
continued, “Travelling with my granddaughter. You, I judge, are a
foreigner, ma’am; though you speak English like a native.” For the
moment, Judge Houghton forgot that here in Europe he was the
foreigner; but the lady understood him, and bowed politely, though
an amused smile twitched her thin lips, while the Judge proceeded
serenely, “It is really remarkable, but you are the first foreigner we’ve
really met,—socially, I mean. I don’t count storekeepers. Switzer-
land seems to be full of Americans. At least, the hotels are. Margaret
and I are sick of them. Americans are all very well in America; but
one can see plenty of them at home; one doesn’t come abroad to see
them. I mean no disparagement of my own country people when I
say it. They may be a great deal more enlightened than foreigners;
but when we come abroad we come to study foreigners, their ways and
54 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

their manners, even if they are not up to our own, and that is why I
am so glad to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”

Margaret felt that the conversation needed interruption, and, step-
ping forward, remarked on the beauty of the view. “It is lufly, very
lufly,’ said the lady. “I know it well; for I have been here before.
Eighteen years ago since I was in Switzerland. You can well com-
prehend zat it has changed. Zere was no funicular railway zen.
We rode to ze top in ze omnibus, or we walked. I always walked.
So, to revive ze old time, I have walked to-day. But alas! I have

changed also. I am not so spry as
once. Better I had gone in ze wagon
of ze train, with Lajos, for it has proved
a great waste of perspiration. Come,
Konrad. I have reposed myself, and
I will not make zese kind people to
wait longer. Ex voute/”
The footman gave her his arm, and
' they all walked on together. It seemed
odd to Margaret to hear her address
the servant as Konrad; she had called
him “animal” so often, that it almost
seemed that this must be his Christian
name,

But though violent of temper, this strange old woman was not
uninteresting, and Margaret admired her intelligence. She quoted
from Rousseau, and Byron’s lines on Clarens, as the Judge pointed
out the town.

“Have you anyzing so beautiful as zat by an American writer?”
she asked.

“IT think Aldrich’s ‘Alpine Picture’ more beautiful,” Margaret
replied. And, as the lady knew of neither the poet nor the poem, she
repeated it for her. nas


LHE COUNTESS. 55

“Stand here and look, and softly hold your breath,
Lest the vast avalanche come crashing down !
How many. miles away is yonder town,

Set flower-wise in the valley? Far beneath,
A scimitar half drawn from out its sheath,
The river curves through meadows newly mown.

‘The ancient water-courses all are strown
With drifts of snow, fantastic wreath on wreath.
And peak on peak against the turquoise blue,
The Alps like towering campanilis stand,
Wondrous, with pinnacles of frozen rain,
Silvery, crystal, like the prism in hue.

O tell me, love, if this be Switzerland,
Or is it but the frost-work on the pane?”

The little woman listened attentively, and then remarked half to
herself, “ You are fond of poetry. Ah! yes; you are at ze romantic
period. You have perhaps eighteen years. It must be passed through.
It does not always make harm. I am not of zose who would repress
it. One might as well try to repress ze chicken-pox. It can be
- done, but it is bad for ze liver; and when ze eruption of poetry is
driven in, it is bad for ze heart. Much better you go through wiz
zese infantile diseases at ze proper time. Lajos has never had ze
measles. I tremble for him if he should contract zem now. He has
never had a romance in his youth. Zink of the virulence wiz which
it may attack him in his manhood. You see, my dear, Lajos is my
nephew; zat is, not my true nephew. He is ze nephew to my
husband, who is dead. Weare all zere is to each other. He is so
devoted to me, he will do anyzing I ask of him. He would have
climbed ze mountain wiz me; but I said, ‘Lajos, you have had
enough of mountains. He joined the Russian army, and went over
ze Balkans with General Skobeleff. He was wounded in ze leg,
and nursed in a hospital of ze Red Cross, by some Americans.
I have felt kindly to Americans ever since. But all ze same, he
56 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

cannot walk well, or dance. It is hard for him. He has changed
since zat campaign. He is not ze same lively, gay of heart boy as
once.”

By the time that they had climbed the mountain and reached the
hotel, they all felt very well acquainted.

“T shall see you again, my dear,” said the little woman as they
separated at the door, and she took the arm of a hollow-cheeked, grave
man, with an immense mustache. It was difficult to imagine that this
was her “boy” Lajos; but he led the strange little lady toward Alice,
saying as he did so, “T wish, my aunt, to present you to Mrs. Newton,
and to Miss Newton, to whose kind care while in the hospital I believe
I owe my life.”

‘He is the Count Krajova,”’ Alice explained afterwards. ‘‘ He was
taken prisoner by the Turks toward the last of the war, spared on
account of his high rank, and sent to Lady Strangford’s hospital, where
I was assisting. I helped nurse him until the Russians took Kezanlik,
when he was transferred to the Red Cross hospital. He recognized
~ me in the cars as we rode up, and came over to see us at once, and
inquired for the mission and the girls’ school, of which I had told him
when he asked how it fappened that an American girl had drifted so
far from home.” :

“T remember your writing about him,” said Mrs. Newton.

“Did I mention him?” Alice asked. “That is odd, for he was
with us only a short time; but he was very gentlemanly. He was more
than that, he was heroic in his patient endurance.” tare

‘At last,” said Judge Houghton, as he inscribed his name in the
hotel register, and tried in vain to make out those of the Austrians
which preceded it, “at last we have escaped from our co-patriots.”
But as he spoke, a girlish voice from the reading-room exclaimed in
triumph, “ Ma, Ma; we can stay in Switzerland all summer. Calumet
‘and Hecla is up!”

The Judge started. “They are some American ladies,” said the
THE COUNTESS. ee

clerk,’ “ who arrived to-day from Geneva. They came by rail. Would
you like to meet them?”

“Far be it from me,” replied the Judge; and he impressed on the
mind of the clerk their especial desire during their stay to avoid the
society of all Americans.

‘T'll do the best I can, sir,” replied the obliging een “but we are
quite overrun with them this summer.”

The Judge was weary, and retired early; but as the girls sat by
their open window looking down at the rakish lateen sails of the
fishing craft on the lake, a maid
appeared, dressed in the pretty
costume of the country, and
bringing an invitation from the
Countess Krajova inviting the
American party to drive with

















her to Vevey the next day. i on Z
The invitation was accepted, See Gee i
and the party made the excur- ee ————
sion in two carriages. : ee er | — It was a day to be marked eq AM Ay yt
with a white stone, as nearly all | £ ae
days are in the beautiful Pays “CALUMET AND HECLA IS UP!”

de Vaud. They drove through
the lovely town of Montreux, through woods and vineyards, over
streams and along the borders of the lake, catching glimpses of the
Plejaden, the Moleson, and the Cubli mountains, with new combi-
nations of the familiar Dent de Jaman and Dent du Midi.

“Tt is one pity it is not ze autumn,” said the countess; “for zen we
could see ze Féte of ze Abbaye des Vignerons.”

“ What is that?” asked the Judge. ‘Some church festival?”

“On ze contrarie,” replied the lady, ‘it is one survive of ze Pagan-
ism celebrate by ze vine-dresser in honor of Bacchus. It is now
58 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

twenty years zat I have not seen it. Such so great pleasure! It ©
was worth to be one Pagan. Ze town was so full of ze spectator
from effery country of Europe zat it was unpossible zere could come -
more. Ze window, ze balcony, ze roof, even ze tree, was rent for a
price to preak ze heart. Only ze American could afford ze best place.
Ze aristocracy of Europe content himself to view zat processions from
ze barn, from ze wagon of hay. I have
accommodate myself, wiz ze Countess
Esterhazy, on ze roof of a smissy
~ [smithy]. We could not else. We
were bake by ze sun, and robe was
decorate wiz ze tar and ze cinder, —
but all zat signify to us nossing, we
have excellent view to ze procession.”
“They will manage it better this
year, aunt,” said Lajos. “ Parisian art-
ists are designing the tableaux, which
‘are to be superb; and the public will
be provided for more commodiously.”
“It cannot be more beautiful as
then,” said the countess. “Do you
a know if ze Goddess of Spring shall
PEASANT WAITRESS. _ be ze same pretty peasant girl of
a Clarens who took ze part when I was
here? Ze Prince of Metternich made her a present of a pracelet
of diamond.”
“Your peasant beauty must be a buxom dame by this time, aunt.
You forget the changes that Time works.” |
“Ah! malicious one; it is true. You could not believe I was
beautiful also. I wore a green satin pelisse; and my friend Margaret
du Fais, one of pink, garnished wiz ze down of swan. We were ze
toast of ze gentlemen; and she is dead, ze beloved one.”


el Sy, ap? ay aime «Bip ms 7 \
hy f ie Bout. Tim NiGe sy Y= by ys a
= = > > SS Swe: \












































































“4

i
Y

tgs oh
lp Mik

hu



Vial
fe

THE DEN









T DU MIDI. FROM ABOVE THE LAKE OF GENEVA.

cs



5 Save RV
DIE SS aN e A .

ARN Oy 3

Ny
mee

THE COUNTESS. . 61

“But the spectacle, aunt,” said Lajos, anxious to ‘lead her thoughts
from sad personal recollections.

“Ah! ze spectacle was magnifique. I can see it all. First ze
train of ze Goddess of Spring; ze gardeners and gardeneresses wiz
zare tools, ze shepherd and shepherdesses wiz zare sheeps, ze herds-
men wiz zare cattles, all shouting ze Ranz des vaches. Oh! it was
heavenly beautiful! And ze Goddess of Summer, in a wagon orna-
mented of corns. Zen come some children carrying a cage of bees,
singing alouds. And ze laborer of autumn; ze haymakers wiz zare
pitchforks, ze mowers wiz scys, ze gleaners wiz sheafs, and ze vintagers
wiz ze cluster of grape, ze faun, ze Bacchante, and ze people mytholo-
gique, dressed in skin of leopard and garlands, dancing wiz great
leaps. Ze pipes, ze flutes, ze kettledrum, ze fiddle, making music
forte fortissimo!”

The countess’ description was so spirited that the volatile Judge
was greatly interested. “Let us remain until the f€te,” he exclaimed,
forgetful of all other plans.

“ Rather, let us try to meet here again in the autumn,” suggested
Lajos.

“Excellent, excellent,” said the countess. “It is fully three months
until ze time of ze féte. One could not exist at Glion so long. It
would be a century of exnuz.”

“And even if it were the most interesting place in the world,”
added Margaret, “we would all be very tired of one another.”

“You would all weary of me,” replied the countess; “but Lajos is
an angel. If it were not so he could not have borne wiz me all zese
years.” It was plainly to be seen that the young man was her idol,
and that she desired to have him admired by all, and especially by
Margaret, to whom she seemed to have taken a strong liking. Mar-
garet was gratified by her attentions; for she recognized the com-
pliment which they implied, coming as they did from a lady of
rank, and Margaret was not insensible to social distinction; but she
62, THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

did not reciprocate the affection offered her, for, in spite of her
freakish kindness to Margaret and her doting fondness for her nephew,
the countess was not an amiable woman. She did not scruple to fly
into a rage over very little matters with her domestics, and to berate
them in what seemed to Margaret a very unladylike manner. On
unpacking the lunch hamper for their picnic on the border of the
lake, it was discovered that one of the Bohemian glass decanters was
broken, and the angry countess did not hesitate to give the unoffend-
ing maid who informed her of the fact a smart slap on the face.
Lajos presently gave the girl a fee; but. the revengeful look did not
die out with the gift, and though the countess chatted merrily as
though nothing unusual had happened, a restraint seemed to have
fallen upon the spirits of the party.

When the wine was passed, and the girls declined it, the countess
seemed to think that they did so because they feared that, one bottle
having been broken, there would not be a sufficient quantity for all.

It was with great difficulty that Margaret explained to her that
American girls did not drink wine.

“So!” she exclaimed. “But you, Miss Newton, you have in
Europe been long enough to learn our customs.” When Alice, also,
resolutely begged to be excused, the countess exclaimed spitefully,
“You are one leetle frog!”

They drove back to the hotel by a different route, with the sunset

flushing the lake. Lajos, who rode with the young ladies, trolled
_ German student songs in a rich baritone voice, and the young ladies
responded with Vassar glees. “If one might ride and sing forever,”
said the young man in an impersonal manner, but directing his gaze
-at Alice. ‘‘ But, alas, my aunt leaves Glion soon, for Austria, and I
must accompany her.” The words did not compromise him, but the
tone said, “I am bound pad and foot to that woman ; and no one
knows what slavery it is.’

The next day was the Sabbath, and the Americans attended service
at ne little church of Montreux.
THE COUNTESS. aot 63

“*T will lift up mine eyes unto the hills,” Cecilia said softly, as
they came out of the church door, and saw the beautiful Dent du
Midi gleaming white in the distance. Lajos was on the terrace, wait-
ing to walk home with them, and apparently not minding the climb
at all. . . :

“What a wonderful country this beautiful Pays de Vaud is!” Alice
remarked softly. “Ido not wonder that Agassiz grew near to Nature’s
heart here. Do you remember Longfellow’s poem to him on his’
fiftieth birthday? I forgot to ask Mr. Walker if he was familiar with
it; but of course he is.”

“Can you repeat it?” Margaret asked; and as they climbed the
hill together, Margaret repeated, —

“Tt was fifty years ago,
In the pleasant month of May,
In the beautiful Pays du Vaud,
_A child in its cradle lay.

“ And Nature, the old nurse, took
The child upon her keee,
Saying, ‘Here is a story book
Thy Father has written for thee.

“¢Come, wander with me,’ she said,
‘Into regions yet untrod,
And read what is still unread
In the manuscripts of God.’

“And he wandered away and away,
e - With Nature, the dear old nurse,
Who sang to him every day
The rhymes of the universe.

“ And whenever the way seemed long,
Or his heart began to fail,
She would sing a more wonderful song,
Or tell a more marvellous tale.
64 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

* And at times he hears in his dreams
The Ranz des Vaches of old,
And the rush of mountain streams
From glaciers clear and cold.

“And the mother at home says, ‘ Hark,
For his voice I listen and yearn ;
It is growing late and dark,

207

And my boy does not return.

“Tt ig indeed beautiful,” said Lajos. “And you say that this was
written to a Swiss scientist by your great poet Longfellow? But who
is the Mr. Walker of whom you just spoke?”

“He is a young engineer whom we met in Geneva,” Alice replied.
“He has come to Switzerland to study the passes; but he is also
much interested in Agassiz.”

“Napoleon was the great engineer of Switzerland,” Lajos as-
serted. “He should study the campaigns of Napoleon. I have
myself studied engineering. That was a heavy bit of it we did in
crossing the Balkans. I consider Prince Tserteleff one of our greatest
military engineers. I helped him make the Hainkoi Pass practicable.
Alas! there is no more see engineering for me.” And he leaned
heavily on his cane.

‘““T would like, however, to meet this friend of yours, and talk over —
engineering with him. I used to think of following up Napoleon’s
military works in the Alps, and making a thorough study of them;
but I fear I shall never do even that.” or

“Mr. Walker may come to Glion,” Alice replied; “and if so, I have
no doubt that he will consider it a privilege to meet you. It is very
kind of you to propose it. I am sure he deserves your interest.”

_ Both Lajos and Margaret regarded Alice keenly, and each won-
dered how far she might be interested in the career of this young
engineer; but Alice, utterly unconscious of their thought, and with
nothing but simple friendship in her heart for Mr. Walker, continued
THE COUNTESS. 65

the conversation. “Could you not go over most of the Bases in a
carriage?” she asked.

“The Simplon, certainly,” he replied; “and doubtless the others.
But one could not study them to the best advantage in that way; and
I wanted to write an exhaustive work on the subject.”

‘Perhaps Mr. Walker could aid you in your observations, and
enable you to carry out your plan. He may be able to be really
useful to you; and if so, I shall be
very glad.”

“At all evens let me nour when
he appears,” said Lajos.

That evening Konrad appeared with
another invitation from Madame. This
time it was for a social game of cards.
The girls looked at each other in
dismay.

“Tell her,” said Margaret, impul-
sively, “that we don’t play cards Sun-
day night.”

“Wait a moment, dear,” said Alice.
“As mamma is our chaperone, would it

not be better for her to send a note of
explanation ?”



‘THE COUNTESS ENTHRONED.

This was accordingly done, the countess immediately deferring the
party until the next evening.

She was enthroned in a high-backed chair as they entered, indus-
triously reading from a French novel; but she dropped the book, and
greeted them vivaciously.

“We will play Lansquenet,” she said; “for so we shall not limit
ourself at four.” And she led the way to a table on which she had
already distributed the cards. Margaret was thunderstruck to see a
roll of silver pieces at each place.
66 ep cg THREE VASSAR GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND.

“We are not to play for money!” she exclaimed. “I thought that
was against the law.” |

“Jt is against the law to keep a public gambling house,” Lajos
explained; “but the police do not trouble themselves with an innocent
little amusement like this. We never play for high stakes, and it adds

a zest to the game.” :

“But we never play for money in America,” Alice replied, laying
down her cards.

“ Avaricious one!” exclaimed the countess; “do you not see zat I
have provide ze silvery You lose nossing. On contrary, you shall
keep your gains.”

“Tt is not that,” Alice explained bravely. “It is the principle of
the thing. We think it wrong.” i

The countess flushed angrily. “ Bigote!” she exclaimed, turning
abruptly from the table, and flouncing out of the room. Alice’s eyes
shone suspiciously, and Lajos gave her a quick glance of sympathy,
but refrained from speaking to her, for he saw that a word now would
unloose the tears. He rose at once, and, begging that they might be
favored with some music, escorted Cecilia to the piano; and Cecilia
played a merrier selection than was her wont, a Hungarian dance of
Rubenstein’s. The countess heard it, in the depths of her doudozr.
It was one of her favorites, and she could not resist its contagion.
She flew in, all animation, exclaiming, “ We dance, we dance,” and,
catching Margaret about the waist, spun her around the room until
she was breathless.

. When the dance ceased, Margaret noticed that Lajos had led Alice
out upon the balcony, and was talking with her in the moonlight.
“You are right,” he said. “I have seen the evils of gaming in the
army. You have taught me a lesson. I will never By, for money
again.”

Konrad came in with refreshments, —little cakes, and glasses of
“limonad.” The countess had evidently regarded the prejudices of
THE COUNTESS. 67

her guests, though she herself declined the beverage, declaring it made
her shiver to think of it.

So a week passed, rendering them all better and better acquainted
with each other’s good qualities and faults; for the latter come out
with even more startling distinctness during eeel than at home.

Annette was the only one of the party who had not yet seen the
Countess Krajova; but the name and title was unfamiliar to her, and
she had as yet no suspicion that the baroness whom she had known
years ago might in the interval have married a count, and be known
by. her husband’s name and title.

The culmination of their intercourse occurred a few. days after
this. Alice and Margaret were sitting alone one afternoon, when
Konrad came running to their room, exclaiming, “The countess!
The countess! She has poisoned herself!”

“What? On purpose?” Alice asked.

~“No, She have one dreadful headache, and she take some medi-
cine. And now I tink she die.”

“Where is Lajos?” asked Alice.

“T know not. He have depart.”

“Then, run for a physician, and we will go to her meantime.”
Alice had had experience in the hospital; but Margaret was younger,
and knew nothing of medicine. She followed Alice, feeling all the
time.as if she were in a dream. The countess lay upon a couch, her
face distorted, her form bent, and her fingers contracted, as though
suddenly frozen stiff in the midst of a convulsion.

Alice stepped quickly to the dressing-table. ~The vial labelled
- Nux Vomica from which she had taken the medicine stood uncorked,
a teaspoon beside it.

“Tt is what you call homeeopathic medicine,” said the trembling
maid. “That never hurt anybody.”

Alice read the printed direction. “ Mix four fons of the tincture
in a third of a glass of water, and take one teaspoonful at each dose.”
68 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

But the countess had taken one teaspoonful of the tincture, wash-
ing it down with a third of a glass of water.

“That make all the same, is it not?” asked the maid.

“Flardly,” replied Alice. “It is deadly poison. She has taken
enough to kill her. The antidote is tannic acid; and the pharmacist’s
is so far away that we can never get it here in time. We can only
give an emetic. Quick! Get me some mustard and hot water.”

The maid brought the mixture. “We+can never make her take
it,” said Margaret. “Her teeth are
ground tightly together. I believe she
has lockjaw.”

“The entomologist up-stairs must
have chloroform,” replied Alice. “ Run
and ask him for some. A sniff of it
will make the muscles relax, and then
she can open her mouth and take the



Xt

y
i











N A
: AY
ANA








medicine.”

Margaret sped up to the old ento-
mologist’s room, but he was away
among the hills chasing Alpine but-
terflies. His door was locked, but she

Go bethought her suddenly of Annette’s

THE ENTOMOLOGIST RECEIVES THE Skeleton key. Down-stairs again, to
: APOLOGY, explain the matter to Annette, who
opened the door with a triumphant

manner which said plainly, “Now, you see, yourself, the good of
having a brother who is a locksmith, and can commit burglary with-

7

out a scruple, when it serves your purpose.”

Margaret, having first carried down a bottle of glue, which would
not have had a relaxing tendency, at last found the chloroform in
“the old gentleman’s dressing-case. What a time they had afterwards,
explaining the burglary to the deaf old entomologist, and how pleased
THE COUNTESS. 69

he was that his chloroform had the desired effect! “And now,” said
Alice, “if I only had the tannic acid!”
Margaret's wits slowly came to her. “Alice, they use tannic acid

in ink, do they not?”

“Yes; but combined with iron. Ink would not serve the purpose.”

“T know it. But grandpa was complaining of the ink we have
here, and bought some chemicals the other day, to make some for his
precious lecture; and I am sure that he has not used them yet.”
And Margaret flew to her grandfather's room, returning with the
tannic acid, and bringing Annette to assist. Annette, however, was
of little service. “Hand me the smelling-salts,’ Alice had said.
“ Look on the dressing-table. You surely will find a vinaigrette.”

Annette fumbled among the articles displayed on the dainty toilet-
table, her gaze fixed on a well-known crest on the silver vinaigrette, —
a mailed hand waving a firebrand.

“Quick, Annette; the vinaigrette! She is fainting,” exclaimed
Margaret. ‘You cannot find it? Why, girl! it is in your hand,”
Annette turned, and gave the countess one long, terrified stare. The
features were unfamiliar, but years might have changed them. She
dared not await her return to consciousness; and when Margaret,

whose hand had been extended for the smelling-salts, looked up impa-
tiently, Annette was gone. The girls continued their efforts until the
arrival of the physician, who listened to what they had done, gave
some remedies, and congratulated them warmly. “You have saved
the lady’s life,” he said. “But for your prompt action, I should have
arrived too late.” Lajos, who entered at this moment, clasped Alice’s
hand. “This is like you,” he said simply.

It was several days before the countess fully recovered; but, when
told of what had happened, she perversely insisted on giving all the
credit to Margaret. It was in vain that Margaret herself disclaimed
the merit, explaining that she only followed Alice’s directions, and
that without her she would not have known what to do. The countess _
70 . THREE VASSAR GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND.
8

persisted in attributing Margaret’s statement of the fact to her own
modesty. ;

When Lajos rather indignantly urged that Alice’s participation in
the rescue should not be ignored, the countess grudgingly accorded
her an expression of her gratitude. It was evident that she had
contracted an unreasoning prejudice toward Alice and an equally
unfounded fondness for Margaret. She could not bear, now, to allow
a single day to pass without seeing her. She made her handsome
presents, —an exquisitely embroidered Swiss muslin dress, and a pretty
necklace of edelweiss blossom in frosted silver. -Her manner softened
appreciably. She had been very near death, and had felt the spray of
that unknown sea upon her face. Her eyes assumed a wistful expres-
sion. They followed Margaret beseechingly. Her fondness wearied
Margaret, who was not then as unselfish as she afterward became.
It was not altogether pleasant to read continually to an invalid instead
of roaming freely with the others. And when the countess was able
to join them in their excursions it was just a little wearying to have
her claw-like hand forever resting upon her arm, to adapt her steps
to the cramped hobble of her companion, and to respond to her ques-
tions, while the Judge, tripping on in advance, laughed heartily at Ce-
cilia’s witticisms, which Margaret could not hear, and Alice and Lajos
loitered in the rear, evidently well content with each other’s company.

Annette, too, increased Margaret’s impatience to proceed to Zer-
matt by letting fall fascinating hints and suggestions in regard to
her great-aunt. She threw every possible obstacle in the way of
Margaret’s meeting with the countess, or accepting her invitations, —
hiding her gloves, disclosing stains and rents at the last moment, when
quite too late to remedy defects. She was in a fever of anxiety to be
off, and of apprehension of detection, and she longed for some event
which would break up this, to her, very undesirable intimacy. None
of her plots to hasten the departure succeeded; but the event came
from an entirely unexpected quarter.
THE COUNTESS. 71

One evening, as the carriage of the countess halted at the door of
the hotel, after an excursion to the Castle of Chillon, the clerk met the
Judge with the well-pleased air of a man who has done his duty and
deserves appreciation. ‘An: American has inquired for you,” he |
announced; “and I told him that you left special directions that no
Americans would be received. He said he had made your acquaint-
ance at Geneva, and you expected to meet him again. I told him
that was probably the reason you were so particular in your orders to
me. He flushed as red as a beet, and said, ‘Oh! very well, and went
away.”

“Do you remember his name?” Margaret asked.

“Tt was Walker,” replied the clerk. “I remember that very well;
for I thought it very appropriate, he walked so well and so fast. He
went straight down the Mountain to Montreux, where he has doubt-
less lodged at the inn, and we have lost a guest; but I don’t mind
that, since I have done a service to Monsieur and the young ladies.”

“You took me a little too seriously, my friend,” said the Judge.
“T had no idea that Mr. Walker was coming in this direction, and I
would like very much to see him.”

The three girls joined in a chorus of, “ What a pity!” and, “I trust
he is not greatly offended,” as they mounted the stairs.

Margaret decided that an apology was due him; and the Judge
wrote a kind letter, which, however, could not be sent until the morn-
ing. Livingston Walker had stepped aside, when half-way down the
mountain, to allow the carriages to roll: by, and, though unrecognized
himself, had heard Margaret’s gay laugh ring out, and had noticed
that a distinguished-looking foreigner sat beside her.

Stung by the rebuff which he had just received, he decided rashly
that it must have been meant for him personally by Margaret.

“She is a heartless schemer,” he said to himself; “her giddy head
turned by the attentions of a noble of the fifth rank. It serves me
right for stopping over, on my way, to accept her grandfather’s invi-
tation. I shall know better in future.”
72 ' THREE VASSAR GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND.

CHAPTER V.
THE JUNGFRAU AND THE OBERLAND.

The clouds are on the Oberland,
The Jungfrau snows look faint and far;
But bright are these green fields at hand,
And through those fields comes down the Aar;
And from the blue twin lakes it comes,
Flows by the town, the churchyard fair,
And ‘neath the garden-walk it hums,
The house,—and is my Marguerite there ?
MaTTHEW ARNOLD.

UDGE HOUGHTON, who was sorry for the affront which his
friend had received, decided to take an early morning walk the
next day, and make suitable explanations. He was, therefore,

not a little disappointed to find that Livingston Walker had just left
for Thun, doubtless on his way to the Jungfrau, the glacier of the
Aar. A great desire to ascend the mountain in his company came
over Judge Houghton. With his recent walks had come the convic-
tion that mountaineering was not the easy matter which he had imag-
ined, and he could not help thinking that the company of such a
vigorous young climber would be of immense assistance to him. If
only he could induce Margaret to deflect from her route long enough
to make this ascension, they might easily overtake Mr. Walker. He
returned to the hotel to find the girls discussing their plans at the
breakfast-table.

Cecilia and Alice had decided that, much as they were enjoying

their delightful stay at Glion, they could not remain longer. Mrs.
Newton would accbmpany them on their Eastern journey as far as
THE FUNGFRAU AND THE OBERLAND. 73

Lucerne, and they were endeavoring to persuade Mangere to make
the same decision.

Margaret, who was weary of the countess and of Glion, was quite
ready to leave, but felt that she must turn her face toward Zermatt.
“What do you say, grandpa?” she asked, appealing to Judge Houghton.

“J fancy the aunt will keep a few weeks longer,” replied the old
man eagerly. “I would like nothing better than to visit Lucerne. It
is the William Tell region, and I want that for my lecture. Besides,
the Jungfrau is exactly on the way. We can obtain a fine view of it

~ from Interlaken.”

The old gentleman wisely said nothing of his hope of méeting Mr.
Walker, rightly thinking that for Margaret this would be no argument
in favor of the plan.

Margaret consented to the wishes of the others, only stipulating
that in a week’s time she should proceed to Zermatt.

“Then let us go at’once!” exclaimed Judge Houghton. “ Off,
girls, and pack your trunks, while I look up the route.”

“ How disappointed the countess will be!” Alice remarked. “See
what lovely flowers she has sent us,” and Alice pointed to a superb
bouquet of Alpine roses or rhododendrons, which, however, bore the
~ card of Lajos.

“ Ah, yes! the poor countess,” Margaret remarked carelessly, “and
poor Lajos as well; but they cannot expect us to remain with ee
the rest of our natural lives.”

“Tt seems to me that is exactly what they do expect,” said Mrs.
Newton; “and I feel that it is quite time that we separated.”

Great was the dismay of the countess when our travellers bade her
farewell. “Lucerne!” she exclaimed. “For why do you remove
yourself to Lucerne? Is it not beautiful enough here?”

“Tt is beautiful, dear countess; but we must all go on, Alice to her
mission, Cecilia to Baireuth, and I to my relatives.”

“Fiddlestick!” replied the amiable lady, “zat is all as nonsense.
74 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

You must visit me at my own home; you must go back wiz me to
Hungary.”

It was with great difficulty that Alice persuaded her that this was
impossible for the present, and it was only by promising that she
would try to visit her before returning to America that the countess
was induced to relinquish her hold upon her. Lajos had. gone for a
long tramp up the Rhone valley, and did not’ share in the leave-taking.

The preparations for departure were hastily made. It had been
decided to drive over the Col de Jaman to Thun, and then to take the
steamer across the lake to Interlaken. The carriage was at the door
in an hour’s time; and all took their places in high good humor, with
‘the exception of. Alice, who was a little pensive. Annette mounted
to her seat beside the driver in a tremor of delight. She did not like
the postponement of their visit to Zermatt; but anything was better
than remaining longer under the same roof with this mysterious
woman who might prove to be even the great-aunt herself.

In her trepidation she had written to her Uncle Jakob Lochwalder,
asking him to inquire at The Riffel Hotel, and secure for her any in-.
formation which could be obtained in reference to the Baroness Du Fais.

She would have felt even less assured if she had known that the .
countess had invited Margaret to visit her; and that she was even
now determining that Lucerne would be a pleasant locality to visit on
their return to Austria, a decision in which her nephew was certain
to concur. 3

Judge Houghton’s plot in the meantime was crowned with success,
and the girls were greatly surprised as they took the steamer at Thun
on the following day to meet Mr. Livingston Walker. Their surprise
was mutual, and the Judge’s delight unbounded. The discourtesy of
the hotel clerk was explained; and all placed their camp-stools on
deck, and enjoyed the lovely scenery of the lake in company. The
day was perfect, good humor reigned. The young man’s spirits rosé,
and his grievance vanished. He pointed and named out the castles
THE FUNGFRAU AND THE OBERLAND. 75

on the shore as they passed them, — Chartreuse, Hunech, and that of
Count de Portales. At Spiez the great mountains of the Oberland
came into view; the Eiger, or giant, Monch, or monk, and the Jung-
frau, the virgin, grouped themselves in front, and the Faulhorn and
Schreckhorn ‘on the left. They had seen no such peaks as these
hitherto, and exclamations of admiration were uttered on every side.
Judge Houghton edged his camp-stool close to Mr. Walker’s, and con-
fided, “1 dragged them all away from Glion, much against their will,
simply because I was determined to ascend the Jungfrau with you.”

“What, you wish the ladies to ascend the Jungfrau?” -

“No, no; of course not. They are not equal to it; but it is one of
the things which I came to Switzerland to do,” and he pointed to the
name on his alpenstock. “I must not give up the battle without a
blow. The ladies will wait for us at Interlaken.”
_ Mr. Walker was embarrassed. It was hard to tell this enthusiastic
old gentleman that ‘the climb was too difficult for him, but it was
plainly his duty to dissuade him from the undertaking. He tried his
best to do so, but Judge Houghton was not to be dissuaded. “I am
quite as well able to do it as you,” he asserted with some warmth.
“ And if you do not care to have me as a companion, I will go alone.”
It needed all of Margaret’s tact to soothe his ruffled temper.

“Very well, we will see; we will see,” said Mr. Walker. “The
weather may be unusually favorable; and if the best guides are disen-
gaged, it may not be impossible.”

“We can never get him to the top” the young man thought with
a sinking heart; “but I will not desert him.”

Margaret gave him a look of gratitude, which showed that she
comprehended the situation. It was a delightful thing to share a
responsibility of hers, to know that he was aiding her in any way;
and in such a cause he felt himself ready to carry Judge Houghton
on his back to the summit of the Jungfrau. Their short sail was
quickly over. The steamer stopped at Darlingen, and the passengers
76 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

were conveyed from the lake of Thun by rail to Interlaken or the
twin lake of Brienz. | .

They found Interlaken a gay watering-place, with twenty-five or
more hotels, crowded with guests. Mr. Walker selected for them the
Jungfraublick, on the Hoéheweg or main avenue, a pleasant street,
shaded with walnut trees. The windows of their rooms commanded |
a fine view of the Jungfrau. They were com-
fortably lodged, but the troops of tourists who
were continually coming and going had robbed
Interlaken of its secluded rural air and the
peasants of their unconscious simplicity.

“Beautiful as it is, I would not care to
remain here long,” Cecilia said; and the rest
echoed the sentiment.

Margaret had fancied that she enjoyed rank,
fashion, and wealth; but its continued display
at Interlaken surfeited her. The. orchestra,
discoursing Strauss and Offenbach in the
Kursaal, Swiss peasants metamorphosed into
waiters in full-dress suits, flirting white nap-
kins, and serving interminable glasses of Rhine
wine, imposing equipages, with high-stepping
horses, jingling chains, and gilded harnesses,
a Golconda of diamonds at the breakfast-table,
electric lights and telephones, and the crowd
of invalids and pleasure-seekers, — all wearied
her inexpressibly; and she longed to flee away to some ee



A METAMORPHOSED NA-
TIVE OF INTERLAKEN.

uninhabited wilderness.

If she had thought more deeply, she would have recognized the
fact that she was more dissatisfied with herself than with her
surroundings. .

Judge Houghton on the morning after their arrival arrayed himself
THE ¥UNGFRAV AND THE OBERLAND. : 77



































































































































































































































































THE JUNGFRAU.



in his Alpine costume, and apostro-
phized the Jungfrau from the _bal-
cony of his bedroom in the following
terms: —

‘So there you are, old lady, and
in good humor, not a cloud on your
brow. Just wait a moment until I
have my lunch put up, and I| will
make your more intimate acquaint-
ance.”

Mr. Walker, who had the adjoin-
ing room, heard him speaking, and
opened his blinds.
78 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“Ah! and there you are, sleepy head!” exclaimed the Judge.
“Come, let us be off, or we will not be back in time for dinner.”

“T should think not,” replied Mr. Walker. ‘Why, my dear sir,
there are fifty miles of good climbing between us and the summit of
the Jungfrau, for all it looks so near.”

The Judge was much disappointed, and could hardly believe the
statement; but he descended to
the office and there made the
acquaintance of a young tour-
ist, who had similar aspirations
in regard to the Jungfrau.
Speedily an agreement was
made between them to ascend
the mountain in company; and
the younger enthusiast secured
the services of two of the best-
known guides who happened
to be looking for employment,
agreeing to drive to Grindel-
wald, and to make the ascen-
sion from that point, on Mon-
THE JUDGE SALUTES THE JUNGFRAU. day of the following week.



When the Judge announced

this plan at breakfast, Margaret and Mr. Walker regarded each other
across the table in dismay. ‘“ But you promised to climb the. moun-
tain with Mr. Walker, grandpa!” Margaret exclaimed.

“Mr. Walker is welcome to come with me,” the Judge replied.

“ But you forget that he promised to take us to-day to the valley of
Lauterbrunnen and the Fall of the Staubach, and you wanted to see
that, too.”

“So I did, so I did. I wanted to photograph it for my lecture. Is
there not time for both?” | : aes

«
THE FUNGFRAU AND THE OBERLAND. 79

“Hardly, before Monday; but you can send word to the guides,
_ postponing the excursion,” suggested Mr. Walker.

“Hum, hum!” muttered the Judge, only half satisfied. ‘“ The
guides are positively engaged for the first of next week by this Mr.
Barney Jones, who cultivates athletics, and has taken the prize in
several walking matches. He intends to ascend the Jungfrau, and I
think it would be a good plan for us to make one party.”

“T doubt the expediency of the plan,” Mr. Walker replied. “There
is a great difference between walking in a gymnasium on a level track
and climbing mountains, and every weak link added reduces the
strength of our chain.”

« That may be,” replied the Judge; “but this young man has been
in training for a year, with Alpine mountaineering in view. He’s
something of a dandy, it’s true; but he is acquainted with the members
of the English Alpine Club, and he is provided with all the latest
accoutrements. You ought to hear him talk. He knows why
Whymper failed so many times on the Matterhorn, and what to
do in case of avalanches. I think it would be a great help to
have him with us; besides, it would make the trip-cost less for us
both.”

At this point a servant announced that the carriage ordered to take
them to Staubach had arrived, and the conversation was interrupted.

The Judge hastily pencilled a note to Mr. Jones, saying that he
would not fail to be at Grindelwald on Monday.

“We have escaped one danger,” Mr. Walker said to Margaret, as
they found themselves together for an instant on leaving the table.

«] fear it is only postponing the evil day,” she replied. “Grandpa
is determined on making this ascent.”

“He is no more equal to it than to travelling on foot and alone
across Central Africa!” Mr. Walker exclaimed.

“T know it, and he is just as likely to take it into his head to
attempt the African expedition. What can I do? I feel so uttetly
80 Ae THREE VASSAR GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND.

helpless. I had no idea of the responsibility I was assuming when I
promised grandma that I would take care of him.”

“Don’t worry; trust it all to me. He shall not ascend the Jung-
frau; something shall occur to make him miss this opportunity.”

It had been decided that Mrs. Newton and Annette should proceed
with the baggage to Grindelwald and wait for the rest of the ,party,
who would ride from Staubach over the Wenger Alp to that place.

They dined at Staubach and then struck off from the valley, follow-
ing a bridle-path to the top of the Wenger Alp. It was Saturday
afternoon and they had planned to pass the Sabbath at a little inn at
the top in the solitude of the high Alps. It was an experience never
to be forgotten, proving to be one of the most enjoyable excursions of
their trip. This mountain is considered of easy ascent, and from its
top wonderful views are to be obtained of the giants of the Oberland,
by which it is surrounded, and especially of the Jungfrau, from which
it is separated by a comparatively narrow ravine.

The trip was made on horseback (the carriage which had brought
them being sent back to Interlaken) and a hostler following on foot to
take back the saddle-horses to Stauback. After an hour of rather
steep climbing, they paused at the village of Wengert and looked
down upon the valley, which seemed from that height a narrow cleft.
A rustic came from one of the houses and played upon an immense
Alpine horn for their enjoyment. The blast which he blew was so
mighty that the girls covered their ears and begged him to desist.
The musician seemed accustomed to having his performance received
in this way, and accepted the Judge’s gratuity with smiling satisfac-
tion. Their path wound now through a pine forest. The Judge,
knowing that a fine view would be afforded just beyond, hurried for-
ward, calling to the others to hasten. Cecilia and Alice urged their
horses, and as Margaret and Mr. Walker had alighted and were
~ varying’ the trip by walking, they were left behind with the hostler
~ who:led:their horses. Mr. Walker had been talking enthusiastically |
THE JUNGFRAU AND THE OBERLAND. 8I

of Agassiz, and Margaret listened with interest to the young man’s
description of his master’s life in the Hotel Neuchatelois as he
christened the cabin on the Aar glacier in which he and his friends
- lived while making their observations.

“Just what was it that Agassiz discovered in relation to glaciers?”
Margaret asked. “I know that his monument in Mount Auburn is a
boulder from the glacier of the Aar; but I am ashamed to say that I

‘do not know exactly what Agassiz’s discovery was. It was known
before this that glaciers moved, was it not? You must not infer
everything discreditable to my college from my ignorance,” she added
quickly, noticing the young man’s momentary expression of surprise.
“Remember I am only a sophomore. We take up lithological and
physiographic geology next year.” ;

“ The wildest theories in regard to glaciers were held before Agas-
siz,” Mr. Walker replied. “One scientist read a paper before the
British Academy to prove that they were remnants of the deluge. It
had been proved by actual observation that they moved, but the world
at large had not accepted the proof. Agassiz discovered their rate of
movement and many other phenomena, and drew from them very
broad and overwhelming conclusions, which entirely revolutionized
the theory held until that time in regard to glaciers. The scientist
Hugi had built a cabin on a glacier of the Aar in 1872, and had care-
fully recorded its position in relation to objects near by; and when
Agassiz visited the spot in 1839, he found the cabin four thousand
feet lower down. For ten years he labored among the principal
glaciers of the Alps, ascertaining their rate of motion by determining
by triangulation the exact position of the more prominent rocks, and
returning year after year to mark the change. He made careful
meteorological observations upon the internal temperature of the
glaciers by boring to a great depth through the ice and _nserting
registering thermometers. He caused himself to be lowered into
crevasses, and ascended many peaks regarded as inaccessible, and his
82 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

companions under his direction studied the flora and fauna of the
region, and the mysterious red snow —”

“Pray, what is that?” Margaret asked.

“Tt was discovered. under the microscope to consist of myriads
of infusoria, a low order of plant life. It is not infrequently met with
in this region.”

Shortly after this they emerged from the wood and arrived at the
hotel where a magnificent view opened
before them of the Jungfrau, just across
the ravine of the Trumleten. It seemed
only at the distance of a rifle shot and
all its inmost recesses were opened up
to them, but from this point it was ut-
terly inaccessible. The Judge stood
* among a party gazing spell-bound at
its steep incline wrapped in a long, un-
broken, winding sheet of snow. As he
looked a long rift or crack was dis-
tinctly seen across one of them, suc-
ceeded a moment later by a loud re-
4 port, and an immense cake or snow-field
“ POSITIVELY FWITEFUL.” slipped away from the side of the moun-

tain, coasted down the precipice, bursting
- into a flurry of fine white powder and disappearing in the precipice
at their feet.

“An avalanche!” every one exclaimed in a breath, and a young
exquisite in patent leathers and a silk hat turned and murmured —
“It is fwiteful! It is positively fwiteful. Think of being cwushed
flatter than an opewa hat by one of those beastly avalanches! How
fwitefully disagweeable.”

It was Mr. Barney Jones who had come over armed with all the
approved methods of the Alpine Club, and who then and there


THE FUNGFRAU AND THE OBERLAND. aos

relinquished his ambition of climbing “that blawsted Jungfwaw.
Because it isn’t blawsted, you know,” he explained. “No joke, ’pon
honor, if they would only blawst away the snow, and constwuct a
gwaded pawth, then there would be some weason in the undertaking.”

Other avalanches followed. They were not so frightful to look at,
as to hear; for it was necessary to remind oneself that what seemed
only a flurry of white powder near at hand was miles away, and covered —
a vast extent, while the detonations were tremendous and, conveyed
through the marvellously pure air with perfect distinctness, seemed
‘like the reverberations of thunder. An American is said to have
once remarked of the same scene, “I tell you, when I heard the first
avalanche fall, I thought the whole creation was tumbling to pieces.
And yet ’twas no more to look at than a barrel of flour tipped over!”

The cone of the Jungfrau is so pointed that only one person can
stand on it at once and the last part of the ascension is usually effected
with ladders.

The Judge, seeing that his hero had given up the ascent, also
reluctantly acknowledged it impossible. After supper they all watched
the sunset flushing the peaks, and dying away into cool gray, then the
mists. rose from the valleys and shrouded the mountains, and a cold
wind from the Jungfrau seemed to freeze the marrow in their bones.
The moon was coming up and touching the crests and turning them
to mighty silver candlesticks, but the cold grew more and more intense
and they were glad to take refuge by the blazing fire of the inn. The
landlord’s daughter played on the zithern, but the room was filled with
tourists, and when thoroughly warmed the girls retired to their simple
bedroom. They lay awake for some time listening to the notes of the
zithern rising from the room below and softened by distance, and
watching the white moonlight streaming in from the large window
until moonlight and music melted into their dreams.

The next morning nearly all of the tourists went on their journey.
The landlord told them of some open-air preaching within walking
84 THREE VASSAR GIRLS. [N SWITZERLAND.

distance, and the rest set out for the convocation. The preacher was
very simple and unimpassioned in his address, but the peasants ‘listened _
devoutly with bared heads, and the singing, with the great mountains
all about them, was very impressive.

“This is the grandest cathedral I ever saw,

“T was reading to grandpa only the other night what Ruskin says
of the mountains,” Margaret said, as they walked back to the little
hotel. “I copied a part in my journal,” and Margaret read : —

“« They seem to have been built for the human race as at once their
schools and cathedrals; full of treasures of illuminated manuscript for
the scholar, kindly in simple lessons to the worker, quiet in pale
cloisters. for the thinker, glorious in holiness for the worshipper.
Great cathedrals of the earth, with their gates of rock, pavements of
cloud, choirs of stream and stone, altars of snow, and vaults of purple
traversed by the continual stars.’ ”

They spent the afternoon in a secluded foot reading quietly part
of the time, or talking in subdued tones, but listening more frequently
and watching for the avalanches which, loosened by the mid-day sun,
plunged at intervals into the gorge. They had lost the sense of fright
which the first impression of the mountain and the precipice had made
upon them, but the feeling of awe deepened. All the life of Interlaken
and its like seemed petty and contemptible; great thoughts and
aspirations filled Margaret’s soul; it seemed to her that she had never:
been so near God before.

The next morning they descended to Grindelwald, walking all the
way, and accomplishing it before dinner. No one was wearied but
Judge Houghton, who was kindly assisted by Mr. Walker. The
_ grand peak of the Wetterhorn rose in front of them, and the Faulhorn
loomed on their left toward the north, while on the right was the
lower glacier of Grindelwald. It was their first view of a real glacier.

»”

said Cecilia.

-—a great frozen river composed by the alternate melting and freezing
of the snowfall on the different peaks, and the snows of each season














































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE WELLHORN AND WETTERHORN.

THE FUNGFRAU AND THE OBERLAND. 2 87 ‘

pressing. downward and onward the deposit of the last. The Fin-
steraarhorn is the centre of the glacial system of the Oberland, from
its sides and between it and the surrounding mountains sweep the
great glacier of the Aar and its smaller branches. The Finsteraarhorn
has rightly been called the “monarch of mountains.” It overtops all
its surrounding brothers, rising to the height of fourteen thousand one
hundred and six feet. One author says of it, “It rises up like a huge
tower from the Hetsch glacier, Viescher glaciers, Grindelwald and
Finsteraar glaciers, and looking as if in rising it had dragged part of
them up with it; for there are pillars and buttresses of ice. reaching
to its topmost summit, and connecting it with its neighbors on the
east and west, the fair Jungfrau, the round-headed Monk, the sharp-
pointed Eiger and gloomy Shreckhorn, the Wetterhorns (and others),
which stand on either side of the monarch and form his court.”

As they passed the Grindelwald glacier Mr. Walker gave them
much interesting information in regard to it and other glaciers. He
explained the origin of the curious mushroom-shaped tables and the
small wells; the former caused by the larger stones shading the ice
beneath them and keeping it from melting, so that while the surface
around was lowered by the action of the sun the rock was hoisted
in air by an ever-growing pedestal. The small stones, on the contrary,
are heated through by the sun and cause the ice to melt more rapidly,
forming the narrow wells.

The Judge remarked on the size of the stones in the moraine at the
foot of the glacier. He had not supposed that the debris would be so
considerable or so difficult to cross.

“Then you have not heard the definition of a moraine given by a
member of the Alpine Club?” Mr. Walker asked; “the young man
described it as one hundred thousand cartloads of stones carefully
piled up by Nature on scientific principles with a view to the dislo-
cation of the human ankle.”

Grindelwald was wilder and more simple than Interlaken. There
88 «THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

were fewer tourists and the peasants more unsophisticated, though the
girls were still importuned to purchase wood-carvings and lace, and
small boys followed them with specimens from the glacier, crystals
and pebbles, and bouquets of Alpine flowers. At this point they
rejoined Mrs. Newton and Annette, who had not cared to take the
mountain excursion, and here in front of the hotel they found Mr.
eo Jones in hot altercation with one of the guides who had
been engaged to ascend the Jung-
frau. The young athlete was as
eager now to give up the excursion
as he had been to undertake it;
but the guides held him to his
bargain, and the hotel-keeper took
sides with them. The Judge of-
fered to pay the sum which he
had previously agreed upon to
settle the matter; and Mr. Walker
stepped in as mediator.

“Tt isn’t the money,” said the
recusant Alpinist, “but the howid
cweatures seem to regard me as
their lawful pwey and are deter-
mined to lug me along body and
bones. Ill pay the fellahs what-

MR. BARNEY JONES IN DIFFICULTIES. ever Tve pwomised if they'll only
let me off from making the twip.”

This being explained to the guides, everything was amicably
arranged, and from Grindelwald our friends proceeded on the next
day to Meiringen. Here Mr. Walker took leave of them, turning off
toward the right on his way to the hospice of the Grimsel and thence
to the glacier of the Aar. Annette suggested that this was the most
direct route to Zermatt, and all regretted the ending of their pleasant


THE ¥UNGFRAU AND THE OBERLAND. 89

intercourse, and none more than Mr. Walker himself. Judge Houghton
would gladly have accompanied him, but the young man assured
Margaret that the mountaineering which he must now undertake was
much too difficult for the Judge. “The Rigi is quite enough for
him,” he said to her; “and I think that when he has once made that
ascent he will be satisfied. I would like very much to take him with
me across some of the passes. After [ have finished my Agassiz
pilgrimage, I would like to make such a trip as your friend thought of,
and follow up Napoleon as an engineer. I will be through with my
glacier work in about a month from the present time. Have I your
permission to join you then?”

“Grandpa will be delighted to go with you, I am sure,” Margaret
replied. “We shall be at Zermatt in all probability.”

“That is a dangerous point for any one afflicted with the manza
scandens. Tf your grandfather manifests any wild desire to scale the
Matterhorn, write me at the Grimsel, and I will fly to him at once.”

Margaret laughed, but underneath the apparent lightness on either
side, she was certain that here was a friend who could be depended
upon in any real need; and he knew that he was ready to do all that
he had said, and more than he dared to offer, for her sake.
go THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND,

CHAPTERGV I.

LUCERNE.
Yonder lies
The lake of the Four Forest Towns, apparelled
In light, and lingering like a village maiden.
; t i Overhead,
Shaking his cloudy tresses loose in air,
Rises Pilatus with ‘his windy pines.
LONGFELLOW.

HEN the party took the diligence at Meiringen, which. was
\ \/ to carry them over the Brunig towards Lucerne, even the
weather seemed to sympathize with the low state of feeling
caused by the parting. All the skies in the Oberland had been fair;
all their days bright and pleasant; but now a heavy fog wrapped the
mountains. As they alighted and looked back, just before reaching the
post-house on the summit of the Col de Brunig, hoping to obtain the
traditional farewell view of all the mountains whose names end in horn,
a dense gray curtain was stretched between them and the “ Delectable
Mountains,” and Margaret felt that all the beautiful past was blotted out.
At Alpnach Mr. Walker had told them to look for the chute, down
which logs are slid from the pine forests on the slopes of Mount
Pilatus to the lake, a distance of eight miles. The slide is paved with
over twenty-five thousand trees, stripped of their bark, and laid at an
angle of ten to eighteen degrees. Logs shoot down the eight miles
in less than six minutes.
It was not actually raining when they reached Alpnach, on the
shore of Lake Lucerne, but Annette pointed to Mount Pilatus tower-
ing above them, and repeated the old German proverb: —
LUCERNE. gt

“Hat Pilatus sein hut

Dann wird das Wetter gut,
Trigt er aber einen Degen
So giebts wohl sicher regen.

Which has been translated : —

If Pilatus wears his hood,

Then the weather’s always good ;
If he draws his dirk again,

We shall surely then have rain.

They looked, and saw that, instead of the round cloud which
usually caps the mountain’s head, a ragged, cloudy streamer, shaped
something like a waving i
sword, was flying like a
storm-signal toward Lu-



































cerne. A storm of wind,
the avant-courier of the
tempest gathering in the
Oberland, was evidently
raging at the top of the
mountain, though unfelt
in the lower air.

“What an excellent
place that would be for
Old Probability’s office,”
the Judge remarked.

“ But not an enviable













station for the signal offi- PILATUS, LAKE OF LUCERNE.
cer,” Margaret replied.

“There is an interesting legend connected with the mountain,”
said Cecilia; “have you never heard it?” When the bustle occa-
sioned by their transfer from the diligence to the little steamer which
92 THREE VASSAR. GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND,

was to convey them to Lucerne had subsided, she told them the
legend somewhat as follows: —

“ After the death of the Saviour, Pilate so greatly mismanaged the
government of Judea that he was recalled by Tiberius to Rome, and
an examination made into his affairs. Most mysteriously the emperor
cleared him, and re-instated him in favor. Other charges were made
against him, with like result, when it was suggested that Pilate used
magical arts to maintain his influence over the emperor. He was ex-
amined by his enemies, and it was discovered that he wore the Saviour’s
robe as an amulet underneath his toga, and when this was stripped
off, the emperor immediately threw him into prison. Here Pilate
committed suicide, and his body was cast into the Tiber. Storms and
tempests visited Rome, and the indignant river cast the corpse upon
the shore. It was then carried into Gaul and thrown into the Rhine;
but the heathen river also refused to cover the criminal, and after
many vicissitudes the body was finally sunk in a little lake on the top
of the mountain which now bears the Roman governor’s name. Even
here he refused to rest, until exorcised by a travelling student from
Salamanca, learned in the Black Art, who laid him under a spell,
forcing him to consent to but one holiday during the year, and that
on Good Friday. On this night a terrible figure, dressed in the red
robes of magistracy, is sometimes seen by ae peasants, pul whoever
beholds him dies aD the following year.”

‘“What nonsense,” commented the Judge; “does the superstition
still exist?” s pees

‘Hardly now, but it died a lingering death. It was said that
Pilate’s anger was excited whenever the water of his lake was dis-
turbed. At one time all persons were forbidden to visit the lake, and
a guardian was posted on the mountain side to keep them at a
distance. In 1337 six priests were imprisoned for ascending the
mountain. In 1518 four enlightened men obtained permission to
investigate the myth. They ascended the mountain, hurled stones


































HOTEL NATIONAL, LUCERNE.

LUCERNE. 95

into the lake and dared Pilate to do his worst. Oddly enough a
severe storm followed, and the superstition was confirmed.”

Almost as Cecilia finished speaking, the storm which had been
gathering about the head of the haunted mountain burst upon them,
first in violent gusts of wind which nearly tore their hats from their
heads, and then in a steady down-pour of rain. By this time, however,
the boat had nearly reached Lucerne, and they were soon housed in
the Hotel National which fronts the quay.

Their baggage had arrived before them, having been sent on from
Interlaken, and the girls were soon engaged in dressing for dinner
—a custom which had not been kept up in the Oberland.

Margaret gave a little sigh as she shook out the ruffles of her
embroidered Swiss gown, and heated her hair-crimper in the gas.
“T feel as if I had been lifted out of myself, and had been allowed to
fall to earth once more. I don’t believe it will be so easy to be good
here as it was among the mountains. I foresee that now we shall
have Glion over again.”

Her foresight seemed to have something prophetic about it; for
as they entered the dining-room, a tall man in heavily frogged and
decorated military dress rose from a table at the extreme end of the
room and came forward to meet them, while a little old woman in
black, who occupied the next seat, flourished her napkin and_ beck-
oned wildly with a tall fan.

Alice exclaimed, ‘‘ Lajos!” and Margaret, “The Countess!” but in
very different tones.

The Countess was evidently overjoyed. She kissed the girls all
around, not even forgetting Alice, but she saluted Margaret on both
cheeks and held her off and gazed at her with rapture. “How well
you are looking! And you have on ze dress I gave you. It becomes
to you very well. Where have you been all zis time? It is an
eternity I have wait for you.”

“It is only four or five days, countess, and we have had a ee
tively heavenly time.”
96 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“The scenery was magnificent,” Alice was saying to Lajos, “but

really it was a little lonely.”

“JT am glad of that,” replied Lajos. “Aunt and I have been

devoured with loneliness.”

“But Glion was not a desolate

pat

STOCK QUOTATIONS.



wilderness, and Lucerne does not

seem to be deserted.”

“ True, the hotel is crowded,
but what objectionable people!”

“ There is one comfort,” Mar-
garet remarked as she surveyed
the d¢able d’hote, “Calumet and
Hecla are not here.”

“J have found some one very
similar,” Lajos replied. “An
American who monopolizes the
newspapers in the reading-room,
actually sitting on those which
he is not reading, but making

up for it by obligingly giving |

quotations from the stock mar-
ket, and shouting at intervals:
‘Bell Lelephone,) arm land
steady!’ ‘Pullman Car, active!’

‘ Atchison ‘depressed!’ ‘Copper falling!’ or other ejaculations as

remarkable.”

The countess had purchased tickets for them for a concert to take
place that evening. “How did you know that we would arrive

to-night?” Margaret asked.

“She has bought them regularly every evening,” Lajos explained;
“and you see she has kept these seats for you at this table, assuring
the head waiter every day that you would certainly be here for the

next meal.”
LUCERNE. eee

“Zat is nossing, zat is nossing, and who is it who read effery time
ze arrival at all ze hotel? And who promenade himself ze town
around to meet zese young ladies?”

“TI will not pretend that I did not have some personal interest in
the matter; but then, my dear aunt, I could not see you so impatient
without doing all I could to relieve your anxiety.”

“ Fiddlestick, zat is not polite; more, zat is not true, and now who
will go to ze concert?”

Mrs. Newton, the Judge, and Cecilia were weary, and begged to be
excused, and a partze guarré was formed of the countess and Marga-
ret, Alice and Lajos. “Quite as in the old days,” Margaret thought,
hardly realizing that the old days were only last week. But there
was this difference now,—the countess placed her arm inside that
of Alice, and peremptorily beckoned Lajos to offer his to Margaret;
and yet Margaret did not seem to have declined at all in her favor.

Margaret felt herself exhilarated as they drove through the wet
streets, the lamps reflected in the glistening pavements, and still more
so as they took their places in the brilliantly lighted hall filled with
beautiful women in full dress, the odor of hot-house flowers, and the

- entrancing strains of a fine orchestra.

Their seats were not quite together, but were separated by an aisle,
so that Margaret found herself for the first time alone with Lajos,
in a crowd to be sure, but virtually alone, and she was obliged to
confess that he was not entertaining. Perhaps the reason was that
he was so fond of music, but he scarcely spoke to her. Once he
roused himself and asked if they had met the engineer again of whom
Alice had spoken. “Oh, yes!” Margaret replied, “and he was greatly
interested in your plan of making a Napoleon pilgrimage. I really
wish you could meet and arrange to make it together. He will soon
furnish his observations on the Aar glacier. His address is the hos-
pice of the Grimsel; if you cared to write him he would come to
Lucerne.”







98 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“TI? Oh, no!” Lajos replied hastily; “I don’t want him in Lu-
cerne; quite the contrary. Do you think he admires Miss Alice?”

“Why, of course; every one does.” And Lajos relapsed into
silence.

‘Their intercourse during the week that followed was carried on
after the same plan. Alice was now the countess’s chosen companion,
and Margaret and Lajos, without any wish of their own, were con-
stantly thrown together. Just what the countess had in view by this
arrangement no one quite understood. Mrs. Newton, at all events,
was well satisfied. Her quick instincts had boded no good from the
evident pleasure which Lajos and Alice took in each other’s society
so long as the countess maintained her prejudice.

Margaret was selfishly glad to be relieved from attendance on the
countess; Lajos possibly hoped that Alice would win the heart of his
patroness, and too polite to allow his indifference to Margaret to render.
him rude, calmly accepted the role assigned him. Alice showed by
no word or sign that the countess’s society was not in all respects as
agreeable as that of her nephew, and was as sweet and unruffled, as
thoughtful ‘and unselfish, as ever.

Annette’s displeasure on finding that intercourse was again estab-
lished with the Countess Krajova can better be imagined than
described. She was quite sure now that this was not her former
mistress. There were points of dissimilarity which struck her more
forcibly as she studied the strange woman. Moreover, a letter had
arrived from her uncle at Zermatt, informing her that the landlord
of the Riffel Hotel was positive that the Baroness Du Fais had died
the year following’ Annette’s emigration to America. This was reas-
suring; but if this mysterious countess was not Margaret’s aunt, who
was she? And how had she come into possession of the vinaigrette
with the well-known crest? |

_ Annette had surreptitiously entered the countess’s rooms during
her absence, and had looked over all her belongings. There was


TT

.her blunder, and trembled for fear of

LUCERNE. 99

nothing marked with the fire-brand crest with the exception of the
vinaigrette, and no scrap of writing to identify her with the Baroness.
In her eagerness to suppress any link of evidence, Annette committed
the mistake of stealing the vinaigrette. The theft was not immedi-
ately traced to her, but the countess missed the keepsake which was
evidently one with associations, and talked of it continually, describing
the crest minutely. Annette, recognized

detection. Something must be done at
once, and she accordingly accosted Mar-
garet one evening with the information
that no amount of reward would induce
her to remain another day in Lucerne.

“Jt is evident,” Annette said very
pertly, “that you do not care to find
your relatives; but as for me, I am not
going to neglect mine any longer, and,
with your permission, I will leave you
and take the direct route to Zermatt
by way of the Visp valley.”

“You must not speak to me in that
way, Annette. I have not lost my in-
terest in my unknown relatives; but I
prefer to be the mistress of my own
movements, and to remain in Lucerne
until after the great festival. It would
be very foolish to leave the city before it takes place when it is so
near at hand. Meantime, you are perfectly at liberty to go on in
advance of us, and to announce our coming to my aunt.”

This plan was accordingly decided upon, and Annette left at once.

The: time was approaching for the annual festival: in honor of
William Tell, and great preparations were in progress for its celebra-







=

<
————
SSS
eee

SS

aS
SINS
SSS

SS

Ss
=
SS
Ss
Ee

SS

=
SS
ae

SSS

SS
mess

SSS
RSs SS
SS

me
=
Se
ae
—

SESS

SSS

: =
LSS

SS
Se

=

SS

—- Se
7

SS
SSS

R

ic coe
SS
SS
SS

ti
Ze
i
SSN

NS.
See

ANNETTE TAKES HER
DEPARTURE. |
I0o : THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

tion upon the lake. Many anxious eyes were turned toward the
heavens, for the rain still descended, and Pilatus pointed a threaten-
ing dagger toward Lucerne.

But Cecilia’s music drove away eznuz, or they read in turn aloud,
while the countess worked upon an interminable piece of embroid-
ery. Occasionally the clouds lifted, and they slipped out to see the
sights of the city. The monument to the Swiss Guards who fell on
the 10th of August, 1792, while defending Louis XVI of France and
his family from the attacks of the revolutionists, is a very noble one.
It is from a design by Thorwaldsen, and is cut from the natural rock.
It represents a dying lion protecting a shield which bears the device
of the Bourbon lilies. Over the cave in which the lion rests, are

carved the words, “ Helvetiorum fider ac virtute,” —“ Yo the valor and
fidelity of the Swiss,” — and beneath are the names of the fallen heroes.

' The countess repeated some lines written by a Frenchman who
admired their heroism more than the cause for which it was shown: —

“Fidéles au serment que lerreur a dicté
Généreux défenseurs d’une injuste querelle,
Vous, morts en combattant contre la liberté,

Vous méritez bien mieux d’avoir vécu pour elle.”

The countess always called Margaret into her room after these
excursions, and asked her what she had seen, and very often the
intelligent old lady supplemented the sight-seeing with some inter-
esting or valuable bit of information.

On one occasion Margaret ridiculed an old stove which she had .
seen among the trophies of the city museum. ‘I presume it was the
one on which Winkelried’s mother baked his brown bread,” -she
remarked derisively.

“ My tear, how is it possible you can not haf heard ze history to
zat stove?” the countess asked. “Zat is one very old legend. Ze
stove have formerly stand in ze guild-room of ze butchers. It was
LUCERNE. iO!

in sirteen sirty-two, when zare was plot to deliver Lucerne to ze
Austriano. One small boy hear ze plot, but ze conspirators catch
him and make him to swear he will tell no living human being what
he justly did hear. For well zey know zat ze Swiss boy’s conscience
not suffer him to tell a lie. But look you, zat Swiss boy not altogether
one fool. He run into ze guild-room, at zat time full of butcher,
and he cry out to ze stove, ‘O stove, I have promise to tell no human
being, but I declare unto zee zis plot. Zen he tell it all, and of course
ze butchers know it too, and ze plot is spoil and ze city safed.”

“Swiss boys do not seem to be lacking in ready wit,” remarked
Mrs. Newton. “I remember to have read of one,a boy of St. Gall,
who brought milk each morning to the castle of a nobleman. On
one occasion the nobleman asked him some questions which he
answered saucily, whereupon he was told that the next time he
appeared near the castle the dog should be set upon him. The boy
came the next morning, carrying his milk-cans as usual, when the
nobleman, out of pure wantonness, set a fierce bull-dog upon the boy,
who coolly lifted the cover of one of his cans; a huge cat sprung from
it and flew at the dog, whose attention was fully engrossed by its
unexpected antagonist, while the boy walked slowly away laughing
derisively.”

The river Reuss issues from the lake at Lucerne, and is here very
swift and strong. It is crossed by two long and curious bridges. One
of them, the Kappelbriicke, is covered, and the interior is hung with
seventy strange old pictures celebrating the acts of .St. Maurice.
Although, as we have explained, Lajos was generally Margaret’s
escort, it happened that he accompanied Mrs. Newton and Alice on
their visit to this bridge. It was a dark day, and they soon tired
of peering into the shadows and trying to make out the subjects of
the paintings, and they turned to watch the shipping.

“The Swiss seem particularly fond of representations of death,”
Alice said.
102 _ THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

: They have death before them more familiarly than the inhabitants
of the plain,” Lajos replied; “perhaps that is the reason that they do
not seem to fear it, and are ready, when occasion calls, to become
heroes like Arnold Von Winkelried, who |

“For victory shaped an open space,
By gathering with a wide embrace

Into his single heart, a sheaf
Of fatal Austrian spears.”



















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































BRIDGE OF LUCERNE.



“ There is one thing which
I do not quite understand,”
said Alice. “You are an
Austrian, and yet you are constantly admiring the enemies of
Austria — Napoleon, Arnold Von Winkelried, Venice, all have your
sympathy. It is just so with the countess. She is always praising
liberty, — America’s struggle for independence, the war in Bulgaria
LUCERNE. 103

against the Turks, and the French Revolution; and yet it seems to
me that Austria is one of the most despotic of despotisms.”

“She is; Russia is a republic in comparison. To understand our .
position, I must remind you that my aunt and I are only Austrians
in so far that our country belongs to Austria. We are Hungarians,
and my aunt’s family were all patriots. Although they belonged to
the aristocratic class, they held advanced ideas in regard to liberty.
My aunt’s brothers were students at the University of Vienna, at the
time of the French Revolution. They were in the deputation of two
thousand professors and students who presented a petition to the
emperor, asking for the following measures of reform: religious
liberty, freedom of the press, and a national legislature in which the
people should be represented.”

“ Of course this wild demand was refused?”

“No; the emperor was frightened, and while secretly negotiating
with foreign powers for aid, he temporized by granting their request.
The advocates of reform in Hungary felt that this was the time to
strike for their rights, and Kossuth, with a hundred and fifty Hun-
garian gentlemen, visited Vienna and made the same demand which
had been presented by the students. Kossuth was the idol ‘of the
hour, and the emperor, feeling himself powerless before this mighty
. popular wave of feeling, granted the demand of Hungary. A won-
derful bloodless revolution was effected. Hungary adopted a con-
stitution emancipating its serfs and giving prince and peasant equal
political rights.” a

“That was an occasion where it happened well for the country
that~its chief ruler was a coward.”

“Tf the event had not proved that his word was as little to be
trusted as his courage. All of his promises were unscrupulously
broken, and the Austrian army sent against the Hungarians as rebels.
It was a war of devastation, towns and villages were burned, and the
greatest cruelties inflicted; but the Hungarians resisted bravely and
104 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

routed the Austrians again and again. The populace of Vienna were
in sympathy with them, and rose in revolution. The emperor fled,
but returning, reinforced by his army, took the city by storm, and
subjected it to still more rigorous despotism. Still the war raged all
over Hungary, and the emperor, seeing that he could not hope to crush
his subjects, besought foreign aid. Russia responded by sending an
army of a hundred and sixty thousand men to the aid of Austria, and
though the struggle was maintained for some time longer, it was
evident that there was no longer any hope. The Hungarian army
surrendered, but Kossuth and many other Hungarians, among whom
were my aunt’s father and brothers, fled the country, escaping first to
Turkey, and from thence to England and to America. Since that
time my aunt has never seen these relatives, and now you can
understand why we love liberty.”

“T see,’ Alice replied; “but since then Hungary has gained what
she asked, has she not?”

“In great measure. It came in 1865, after Austria’s humiliation
in being set aside from the old Germanic confederation when Prussia
became the leading power. Austria no longer held her old prestige,
and it was necessary for her to listen to the demands of her children,
and Hungary received her birthright. My aunt, who had gone into
exile with her mother when her relatives had fled the country with
Kossuth, and had lived much of the time in retirement in Switzerland,
returned to Hungary, when it became evident that a new order of
things was to be ushered in, and the constitutional rights of the states
would be respected by Austria. She was a young girl when she fled;
a woman not in her first youth, but at the height of her beauty and of
her intellectual powers when she returned. She entered society, and
my uncle, who belonged to an old Austrian family, saw her in Vienna,
was charmed by her many excellent qualities, and married her. I wish
you could have known her then as I still’ remember her—a brilliant
and fascinating woman.: She has had much mou and age and dis-
appointment have made her what you now see.’
LUCERNE. 105

“T should think that her trouble ended at the time of which you
speak. Freedom secured for her country, a happy marriage, rank,
wealth, — what more could she need to make her happy?”

“Her father and mother died shortly after this, and her brothers,
from whom she had heard occasionally up to this time, never returned.
Her youth had fled; there was no longer the old power to hold out
against continued disappointment. Waiting and longing wrought its
work upon her, and she grew suddenly old when the conviction was
borne in upon her that they would never return. Then her husband
died, and now I am the nearest that she has left, who am only her
husband’s nephew. She is as kind and loving as an own mother,
and when I am tempted to think her exacting I remember all that she
has suffered, and I look upon her with admiration.”

Alice was silent; it did not seem to her that even with this cross
light upon her history the countess was particularly worthy of admir-
ation; but she knew Lajos the better for their conversation. The
confidence already established between them was strengthened, and
his complaisance to all the pettish demands of the countess no longer
seemed to be dancing attendance on a legacy. Without apologizing
for her foibles he evidently wished to beg Alice’s consideration for his
aunt. It was as though he had said, “I want you to like her, and I
think that if you understood her history you would be lenient to her
faults.”

If this conversation had been carried on with Margaret, the men-
tion of exiled ‘brothers would have suggested her grandfather, but
Alice had never heard the strange story.

“Took!” exclaimed Mrs. Newton, “the clouds are preaiee away.
This looks like a final clearing up. We shall have fine weather after
all for the Tell festival.”
106 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

CHAPTER VII.
THE TELL FESTIVAL

The ranges stood
Transfigured in the silver flood.
Their snows were flashing cold and keen,
Dead white, save where some sharp ravine
Took shadow, or the sombre green
Of hemlocks turned to pitchy black,
Against the whiteness at their back!

HILE the conversation just reported was in progress the
Judge had been enjoying a téte-a-téte with the countess.

“ How we old people live our lives some more in ze tear
children,” she had said. “My heart it wrap up in Lajos, and to see
him what you call settle in life. My husband’s will shall leave to
him one nice castle, and zere is always his pay as officer in ze army.
He is an eligible partz, and I do assure you I am very difficult about him.
I have ze proposals most advantageous from some of ze best families
in Europe, but no I have one little hope that will not quite extinguish
itself that he will marry ze child of a friend to me for whom I have
him reserve. My husband have share this hope, for ze young lady
have property of which my husband was what you call guardian. My
friend have put in my husband’s care, and he have put it wiz some
mines of his own, and now zat mines have swallow zose money, and
it cannot come out, which is my husband’s or his ward’s. But my
friend say zat make no difference if so Lajos marry ze young lady.
And so my friend and my husband make zeir wills. Zey shall have
ze mines together if zey marry themselves. If ze young lady refuse
THE TELL FESTIVAL. 107

to marry herself wiz Lajos, zen he shall have zat mines, and if Lajos
will not marry zose young lady, zen he shall not take zat mines no
more. It is a great mix up, and it shall all be decide when zose
young lady shall come of age.”

The Judge listened with scant interest; he could hardly be said
to listen at all so far.’ He thought the lady very voluble and a
. trifle absurd, and when she asked him of the fortunes of the three
young ladies under his care, it seemed to him that she was simply
inquisitive ; but he told her frankly that both Cecilia and Alice were
portionless, though independent maidens; Cecilia making a good sup-
port for herself by teaching music, and Alicé a devoted missionary.

“Then Miss Newton is a religieuse and will never marry. She has
what we call a vocation. It is sad, and she so young and pretty.
And Miss. Boylston’s position is not to be sought of; but your grand-
child, Miss Houghton?”

It chanced that Margaret’s family name had not been mentioned,
and the countess had taken it for granted that it was the same as that
of the Judge. , ; .

“Oh, Margaret will have a snug little fortune when I die!” the old
gentleman replied. |

.“And you have brought her to Europe to marry her?”

“Marry my granddaughter! Wby, I couldn’t do that, even if my
wife were not living!”

“Monsieur does not understand me. You have brought her to
Europe to find for her a husband?”

“Well, no; not exactly. Margaret brought me to Europe; and
there is no need of our bothering our heads about finding her a
husband. No danger but plenty of admirable young Americans will
find her; and if there is anything that our girls are particular about,
it is to have their own choice.”

“So?” said the countess. She was far from understanding the:
Judge, and she was surprised that he did not appreciate the great
108 THREE VASSAR GIRLS [JN SWITZERLAND. -

desirability of her nephew as a possible husband for Margaret. The
Judge’s apathy only raised Margaret’s value in her eyes. It was
nothing to her that Lajos thought Margaret frivolous and mercenary.
Could he have heard her reckless chatter that night, as she discussed
him with her friends, he would have felt himself justified in this con-
clusion. And yet he did not know Margaret, nor Margaret herself;
for it was her worse nature, her worldly, ambitious self, that was
uppermost that evening.

“ Girls,” she said, “ haven’t we had a beautiful time to-day?”

“Yes, indeed,” Alice replied; “I think I never in one day saw se
lovely a sunset.”

Margaret laughed softly. “I didn’t refer to the beauties of nature,
dear, but to the beauties of human nature recently displayed.”

“You mean by the countess; she is certainly very eccentric.”

“She is a precious old termagant! What a life she leads her dear
nephew Lajos, and every one connected with her! She seems to have
taken a fancy to me. Just wouldn’t I be a discipline and a revelation
to her, if I were in Lajos’ place. I wonder whether my unknown rel-
ative is anything like her? Think of finding a madame the countess,
with servants in livery, and a coat of arms on the carriage door, anda .
castle in the Carpathians. It makes me wild with envy.”

“Even when handicapped by such an aunt?” Cecilia asked.

“Why not? I am tremendously fond of the good things of this
world, and I would be willing to give a good deal for the right to
be —”

“ Miserable,” suggested Alice, as an appropriate oe “TI can-
not conceive of a more unhappy position than to be dependent upon
a benefactress whom you do not love.”

At this point Judge Houghton knocked at the door of the little
sitting-room. “It is time you girls were in bed,” he said—but he
paused at the door, admiring the pretty picture.

“ Did you have a pleasant chat with the countess, grandpa?”
THE TELL FESTIVAL. 109

“She is, without exception, the most singular female I ever met,”
the Judge replied. ‘She asked me the most personal questions in
regard to each of you. I began to think that she was passing you
in review as possible wives for her nephew, but she disabused my
mind of that idea by assuring me that she was saving him up for a
distant relation. One of his Austrian cousins, I presume, and I can
only explain her questions by attributing them to pure abnormal curi-
osity. I thought I would
just mention that the young
man is contracted, that
there might be no heart-
burning or scheming in re-
lation to him.” The Judge
said this with a sly twinkle;
for he well knew the indig-
nation which his remark
would create.

Margaret laughed scorn-
fully. “The very idea —
that iceberg! And yet he
is quite a respectable ice-



berg,” she added, after her MARGARET AND ALICE DISCUSS LAJOS.
grandfather had left the
room. “Do you know I am more than ever inclined to regret

that the countess is not my aunt, or I the distant relative for whom
the magnificent Lajos is so tenderly guarded.”

Alice looked up quickly. “Do you really care for him, Mar-
garet?” and again Margaret laughed her scorn.

“And would you marry a man whom you do not love?”

“Why not, if there weré no pretence?”

“And if he did not love you?”

“Then I think it would be perfectly fair. I am sure that the
IIo : THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

Count Lajos and I would make a perfectly matched couple,” she con-
tinued, only half in banter. ‘“ He does not look as if he was capable
of warm affection, and as I am sure that I am not, I repeat that we
seem to have been created for one another.”

A rich glow burned on Alice’s cheek. “I do not think you under-
stand him,” she said. “I am sure that he is capable of very true
_ affection, but I do not believe he is happy in this engagement.”

“Then why doesn’t he break it?”

“Probably his aunt’s favor and fortune are at stake.”

‘Then if he cares more for the fortune than for his freedom, I do
not see that he deserves our pity.”

“Nor I; and as I can’t quite believe that Be is so base as that, I
am sure the must be some other reason.’

“J do not think so; he is simply under his aunt’s thumb. She
can make him do exactly as she likes. He would marry me if she
wished him to do so.” And the thought flashed through Margaret’s
mind, “I have only to be nice to the countess and she would throw
over this angie nt ly sete coueon marriage and insist upon Lajos mar-
rying me.

The day dawned for the Tell fcval clear and perfect, greatly to
the delight of thousands of expectant people. Steamers and barges set
out in the morning from Lucerne, making the circuit. of the lake, and
stopping on the way to Fluelen at all the villages to collect the peas-
ants in their holiday attire.

Lajos had engaged a steam yacht for the party, and they followed
in the wake of a great steamer, on which a band was playing merrily
and from which flags and streamers were fluttering. The great banner
of the Swiss Confederacy overtopped all, while the escutcheons of the
four forest cantons, which include the Lake of Lucerne, were dis-
played on broad shields on the sides of the boat. The crowd on
deck, in their gayly-colored costumes, gave the steamer a very bril-
liant appearance. In honor of the day, two of the three girls had






























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE RIGI, FROM LUCERNE.

THE TELL FESTIVAL. I13

dressed in the costume of the Canton of Uri, which consists of red
petticoats and stockings, black velvet bodice, and full white waist, with
square velvet collars embroidered in silver. Silver chains were fastened
to each corner of the collar, hanging loosely under the arms. These,
with other silver ornaments,
were furnished by the count-
ess. Margaret wore the still
more lavish ornaments of a
peasant of Unterwalden.
One adjunct of the costume
they did not adopt, — the
maple-wood sandals which
slip with every step, and
make a noisy clapping on
the stone pavements. With- ="

out these it was impossible iy VG aus natn?
to realize their wish to pass UMN 7 Sh os

Ge






as peasant girls among the
peasants. There were dis-
crepancies, too, in their head
gear. And as they stood
together later, before the
porch of the church at Alt-
dorf (see Frontispiece), they a
made a pretty picture for the A SWISS MAIDEN.
Judge to photograph; but
every true peasant knew that they were masquerading.
They stopped at the Griitli, which tradition says was the trysting-
place of the three patriots of Schwyz who founded the Swiss Confed-
eracy; and then glided on past the Mythenstein, a rock rising from
the waters of the lake, on which a grateful people have chiselled an
inscription in honor of Schiller, who made the name of their hero,
William Tell, famous in literature.












114 ; THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

The boat paused for a few moments at the Tellenplatte, where
stands the famous chapel to Tell, on the spot where he is supposed to
have sprung on shore and escaped; but the shrine of the pilgrimage
was the church at Altdorf. All the boats carne to anchor at Fluelen;
a procession was formed, which proceeded on foot to Altdorf, while
those who did not care to
take part in the procession
bestowed themselves in the









































carriages, omnibuses, and ve-
hicles of every description
which were in waiting. All
the village of Altdorf came
out to meet them, singing
patriotic songs and bearing
garlands. Mottoes were dis-
played on the fronts of the
houses. Wreaths and gar-
lands of evergreen and of
flowers were interspersed
with bunting and fluttering
ribbons. The Schutz Verein,
in a sort of Robin Hood
costume, carrying cross-bows,
came from the gymnasium.
TELL’S CHAPEL, LAKE OF LUCERNE. The Capuchins, in their long
brown gowns with knotted
rope girdles, marched from their monastery, chanting and carrying ©
processional crosses and candles; and the nuns marshalled the chil-
dren. A bishop in white, holding his hand aloft in blessing, and
priests in scarlet or in black robes, swinging censers and sprink-
ling holy water, stood upon the church steps. As the processions
approached, the bishop. turned and led the way into the church,
where mass was said.
























































































THE TELL FESTIVAL. IIl5

At Altdorf all the associations connected with William Tell con-
centrate. It was here that Gesler’s hat was supposed to have been
raised upon the pole, here Tell shot the apple from his son’s head, and
here Tell was born. All this according to the legend which Schiller
has immortalized and which is now called in question by doubting
antiquarians. It is in vain that historians now declare that the hero
of Switzerland is a myth; the peasants have believed in him too firmly
and for too many generations. It would be as easy to convince the
American that George Washington never existed.

The girls turned from the main part of the church to the sacristy,
where the costly gifts shown them testified to the faith of the princes
as well as peasants, and having viewed these, all strolled through the
‘town and a little way up the hill to secure the fine view. Again, by
some magic attraction, Alice and Lajos walked together; Margaret -
and Cecilia* following, and Mrs. Newton, the countess and the Judge
loitering far behind. There were so many people wandering in
different directions, that the three groups were presently separated,
and Alice and Lajos found themselves on a little eminence overlook-
ing the village and the merry crowd below. A chorus of male voices
was now lustily rendering “The Old Song of Tell,” and the notes,
softened by distance, rose sweetly from the valley. “ How beautiful it
all is!” Alice said; “but you do not seem to enjoy it; are you weary?”

“No; I wish we might walk on so for the rest of our lives. I am
never cred with you. But now our paths separate for a time, and
when I think of walking on alone I realize suddenly that I am a
broken man, and that I am very weary.”

Alice understood him, but showed no confusion. “Then you have
decided to go to Italy?” she asked.

“Aunt has decided,” he replied; “but we shall not remain long,
and I shall join you at Baireuth before the Wagner festival is over.
I hope we may have the pleasure of your company as we sail down
_the Danube. When do you return to your mission in Bulgaria?”
116 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“The middle of next month; I have made a long vacation and am
eager to return to my girls.”

“Do you enjoy the work so very much?”

“So much, that it seems to me that philanthropy is the only thing
worth living for.”

“T have. come to think so,
too. Tell me, Miss Alice, in
what way can a man like me
devote himself to his fellow-crea-
tures? My career as a soldier
was spoiled by that ugly wound,
© but Iam not utterly disabled;

‘I ought still to be able to do

good and worthy work in the
Z, world in some fashion. Shall I
turn missionary ? ”

“Think of your home,” Alice
replied; “is there no way that
you can be a missionary to the






ie

Gay ; et » people on your own estate, those
Wf 7 Z for whom you are responsible, or

are they all in such comfortable
circumstances that they need to
have nothing done for them?”

“The people of my own class need a good deal of evangelization,
I fear; but there are the miners, the poor devils who work the
lead mines, which give me my income. I have often thought of
bettering their condition which I know is sad enough. If you will
kindly visit my aunt on your way to Bulgaria, I will take you to the
mines, and we will see what can be done for the miners and their
families. The trouble is, that if I increase the miners’ wages and
lessen their hours of work, fit up their homes, establish a school and

COSTUME OF PEASANT OF UNTERWALDEN.
THE TELL FESTIVAL. : 117

all that sort of thing, it will cost a great deal, and will really lessen
my income. We are running these mines in close competition with
other companies, and at a very small profit, and I must be careful or
I shall throw myself out of the race entirely. It is as if I had inher-
ited a plantation of slaves; emancipation to them means ruin to me.”

“And yet can you hesitate?”

“No; I would not hesitate a moment if I were the only one con-
cerned. Unfortunately, | am only half owner in the mines; the -
property of a ward of my uncle’s is entangled in these mines, and I
must give an account to her for my management of it. Again, if
I ruin myself financially, how are the miners to live when I can no
longer give them employment?”

“Can you not introduce reforms gradually, and make their lives a
little more tolerable, if you cannot do all you wish at once?”

“Yes; I think I can. I do not need quite the amount which my
aunt insists that I must obtain from the mines. I can give up the
winter at Vienna for one thing; and this is why I want your opinion
as to what it is best to do. That is, I shall want your opinion when
I see you next, for then many things will be settled which are now in
doubt. On the fifth of next August, by my uncle’s will, there is
to be a settlement of the estate. I shall then know just where I
stand.”

Alice looked at Lajos with keen disappointment. “Why does he
not tell me,” she thought, “that he is betrothed to his uncle’s ward?
Surely we are sufficiently intimate for such a confidence.” But Lajos
did not consider the disposal of his hand by his uncle’s will as a valid
betrothal. He had no intention of carrying out the conditions, and
he was only impatient to see the young lady in order to make a satis-
factory rendering to her of her property. His aunt and he had made
every effort to find the missing heiress. They felt sure that the terms
of the will must be known to her, and that she would probably be heard
from by the fifth of August. If not, a certain portion of the property
118 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

would be set aside and held subject to her demand, while Lajos would
be free from all other obligations.

All of this passed through Lajos’ mind, and seemed to make it
advisable for him to make no formal proposal until he could ask Alice
to help him make the best possible use of his fortune. If he were left
a poor man he fancied that he had resolved never to marry. Still,
chained as he was by circumstance, the opportunity was so tempting,
he could not let her go from him with no assurance of his deep affec-
tion, and he added earnestly, “ Trust me, Alice; wait for me until the
time that I have set, and believe, meantime, whatever happens, that I
love ‘you devotedly.”

Alice was deeply pained. It had seemed to Lajos that she must
understand his position and be happy in the confidence that he would
not rest until everything was satisfactorily arranged. But Alice did
not understand. She looked him through and through with her clear,
questioning eyes, and was dissatisfied. She believed his assurance
that he loved her, but it brought her no comfort; for, if this were true,
what more natural than that he should openly and honorably ask her
hand in marriage? And since he had not done this, she felt con-
vinced that the countess had told the truth, and that he was already
betrothed. She longed frankly to ask him what it all meant, but he
looked so true that she could not bring herself to tax him with double
dealing. Besides, there was no longer any opportunity for confidential
conversation. The girls were very near. “You make no comment,
Alice, on my last remark.”

She smiled faintly. “It does not seem to me that you have said
a great deal.” |

“True enough,” he replied, with a gay laugh. There was the least.
possible spice of pique in her remark, and it gave him the assurance
which he wished. “Forget that I’ve said anything, until the fifth of
August.”

He called gayly to the others to join them, and the chat became
THE TELL FESTIVAL. 11g

general. It was evident that he had said more than he intended and
that he wished no reply. He began to talk to Margaret about the
wonderful engineering exhibited in the Axenstrasse, a magnificent





























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































RAILWAY UP THE RIGI.

road which starts from Brunnen
and joins the St. Gothard road at

: Altdorf.

The countess linked herself to Alice as they went down the hill,
and kept her at her side until the day was over.

The friends were destined to pass only a few more golden days
together. The ascent of the Rigi was the brightest of these, with a
glorious view from its summit, but this has been so frequently de-
scribed by other travellers that we shall omit an account of it here.

Margaret now felt that her visit to her aunt could not longer be
I20 ; THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

postponed, and as the Judge was quite ready, the two announced their
intention of proceeding to Zermatt.

The countess immediately decided that she would enjoy a short
sojourn at The Riffel in view of the grandest peaks of Switzerland.
She affected to be influenced by a wish to see the Matterhorn, which
Lajos had formerly expressed, though he now assured her that he
would rather do this at some other time, and that he had a strong
desire to attend the Wagner festival at Baireuth.

“Ah! Wagner, Wagner!” replied the countess in a pet. “ Who is
it cares for Wagner! You sall let ze stove-pipe fall, and make one
great explosion of dynamite in a shop of copper kettles, and you sall
enjoy ze music of Wagner. You show me zoze who prefer it to ze
Italian opera and I show you some imbeciles.”

As Cecilia and Alice had just explained that they were devotees of
Wagener on their way to the festival, the remarks of aunt and nephew
were equally significant.

There was genuine regret in the parting of the girls. Cecilia and
Margaret had made an appointment to meet again at the Féte of the
Vignerons at Vevey, and to return to America together, but Alice
would go on to her work in that strange land so far from our knowl-
edge and thought, and they might never meet again. Margaret had
felt herself strongly drawn to her, and she admired her devotion and
self-sacrifice without having the slightest desire to emulate it.

The countess and Lajos with the Judge and Margaret now fol-
lowed down the valley of the Rhone to the Visp. From this point
the scenery became very wild and rugged, a great contrast to the
majestic but quiet beauty of the Lucerne region. At length the
grand obelisk of the Matterhorn (called also Monte Cervin and Monte |
Silvio) rose defiantly before them like a milestone of eternity.

“ To think of any one having the temerity to climb that mountain!”
exclaimed Lajos; “where is there the least crevice for the lodgment
of human foot?”
THE TELL FESTIVAL. T2I

“It cannot be as inaccessible as it appears,” replied the Judge,
“since it has been climbed; perhaps the other side is not so steep.
This is a very good point of view for a photograph, however.” And
as he secured his negative, the old Judge fell in love with the moun-
tain which has lured so many adventurous climbers, on to their de-
struction. “I am rather glad
that we are to stay in this
neighborhood for some time,”
he said to himself. “I shall
find an opportunity before we
leave to ascend that mountain,
and there will be a fact worthy
of the summer.” It was an
access of his old ‘malady of
mania scandens, which Mar-
garet had fancied was cured,
and which was still destined
to give her grave anxiety.
The party were unusually
silent; for it was necessary to
‘proceed much of the way in



single file, and every one was
occupied wth his own thoughts.
The countess was absorbed in eo : Syd \\
conjectures respecting Marga- ee . VAS EN :
ret’s relatives. “It is fortunate,” THE COMFORTS OF DONKEY-RIDING.
she thought, “that I shall be
able to see them for myself. She is probably well connected, and if
so, and if this niece of mine never appears, there shall be further
intercourse between these Lochwalders and myself.”

They reached the Riffel Hotel in time for an early dinner, and
found Annette, who had come in to inquire if they had arrived. The



122 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

Judge, weary with his ride, counselled a halt until the next morning;
but Margaret was impatient to find her aunt at the Alm or summer’
pasturage. “I will go on this afternoon with Annette, grandpa, and
we will send a guide to bring you, with the luggage, in the morning.”

A couple of donkeys were obtained at the hotel for the short jour-
ney; and they struck into a wild gorge, and followed the course of a
‘little stream, which brawled over a rocky bed. It was the famous
Zmvytthal, which has been described in the following graphic manner
by a well-known traveller :—

“Three mountain-glens unite at Zermatt to form the valley of the
~Visp. Two are occupied by glaciers— great ice streams which,
sweeping down on either side of the Riffelberg, drain the amphi-
theatre of peaks dominated by Monte Rosa. The other glen, how-
ever, called the Zmvtthal, extends into the mountains for a distance
of about six miles, before the foot of the glacier is reached, between
the base of the Matterhorn on one side and of the Gabehorn on the
other. Paths exist on either side of the stream, which wind gently up
and down through noble pine woods, among the usual combinations
of boulders and rhododendrons, brushwood and fern, Alpine flowers
and mosses, among which creep and cling the great serpent-like roots
of the pines. The torrent roars in the ravine below, dashing, at one
place, through a magnificent gorge, which is spanned by a frail _

bridge.” :
_ The character of the scenery had totally changed. The loveliness
of the lake was replaced by the sublime grandeur of stern snow-peaks
and savage passes, which seemed to tell of heroic adventure and en-
durance in the lives of the inhabitants of the region. Margaret felt
the stimulating influence of the surroundings. .

“An entirely new stage setting,” she said. “Evidently a new act
in the drama is to be ushered in. I wonder what it will be.”
OUR LADY OF POVERTY. 123

CH ARE Re VTi

OUR LADY OF POVERTY.

She knew
She was not wise; was conscious in herself
Of eager impulses that would have wrecked
Her whole heart’s happiness a thousand times,
Had not some Power from without herself .
Shut down the sudden gates, and with its stern
“* Thou shalt not!” left her stunned, perhaps, but saved.
* * * * & * & co *
How could she help
Believe that God had stooped from highest heaven

To save her from herself. :
ALICE WELLINGTON ROLLINS.

ARGARET had felt a subtle premonition of the change which
M was coming, as mariners feel the chill in the atmosphere which
announces the presence of an iceberg; but she was far from
guessing the depth of poverty in which she would find her false
relatives plunged.
« Annette,” she said, as they rode on together, “T feel certain that
you found my aunt in reduced circumstances. Is it not so?”
Annette nodded grimly.
“T want to know someting about her before I see her. Do not
be afraid of shocking me.’
Annette, now that her revenge was within her grasp, was afraid to
take it. “She will leave us in a storm of rage, and that will be the
end of it,” she thought. “It will be worth much to see her fury, but
all money advantage to us will then be lost. It would be harder for
her to have her humiliation come upon her by degrees. I think I will
adopt that plan,” and she replied, aloud: —
124 THREE VASSAR GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND.

“Your great-aunt has one son, a widower, who lives with her with
his two children. You would call them poor, but they consider them-
selves well off. You will not care to visit long with them, but you
can-help them if you really care to do so.”

Up, up, up. They had left the Zmutt
Thal and were climbing the slope of one
of the northern ranges.

“There is a fine view of the Matterhorn
and the southern mountains from the edge
of that cliff,” Annette said. “If you like,
I will hold your donkey and you can dis-
mount and get it.” ree

Margaret walked to the edge of the prec-
ipice which Annette had indicated. Off to
the south beautiful Italy was buried from
her view by a barrier of stern mountain
ranges, and she felt that the life of luxury
to which she was accustomed
was shut from her as well.
For a moment there was a
wild yearning for the past,
and a sinking of heart in










view of the future. If she a i.
could have gone back she ly ((
ld; for sl d ty
woulda; tor she stood upon WO

the brink of a precipice more y

dangerous than the actual one ON THE BRINK OF A PRECIPICE.
before her. But she realized

that it was too late; and she looked up at the gigantic Matterhorn so
startlingly near. More than ever it seemed to her a milestone of eter- _
nity, grim and terrible; but as she looked, the sunset flush transformed
it into a thing of exquisite beauty. The deep rosy tint on the summit


























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE MATTERHORN.



OUR LADY OF POVERTY. eei2i7.

grew more and more delicate until it was lost in the snowy white of
the sides,-which again deepened into the cool green tints of the
shadows near the base. It seemed a colossal crystal of tourmaline
in its wonderful play of delicious color. Margaret was so absorbed
in the spectacle that Annette called her twice before her attention
was aroused. She came slowly away, all her nobler nature aroused
by the glorious spectacle. “Life may be stern here,” she thought, -
“but it must be heroic;” and the lines,

“ Better not be at all than not be noble,”

flashed through her mind.

“T wonder if it is in me to do anything really grand,” she thought.
“If my aunt is poor I will share her life, and see how these peas-
ants really live. I should not wonder if her simple pleasures were
really more enjoyable than the ewzz7 of the rich.”

Something which she had read of the lives of the Swiss came to
her mind, at this juncture. “Good, kind people, poetically minded,
delight themselves in imagining the happy life led by peasants, who
dwell by Alpine fountains. The time will come when, as the heavy
folded curtain falls upon our stage of life, we shall begin to compre-
hend that the felicity we sympathized in was intended to have been
bestowed.” ‘ Well,” she thought, in answer to the admonition, “if
my aunt is not comfortable I will try to make her so. I am ashamed
that I have consulted my own selfish pleasure and have delayed com-
ing to her for so long, but I will try to do my duty all the more faith-
fully now.” It was the beginning of a new life, indeed, for Margaret.

Annette had prepared her more thoroughly than she knew for the
ordeal before her, and Margaret had need of the preparation. The
sun had set.when they paused at the door of a rude chalet. The
firelight gleamed within, and an old woman stood in the door peering
out into the darkness. Dogs barked as they approached, and two
children came bounding down the rocky path to meet them.
128 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“Go away, Nikolas; off with you, Katchen!” Annette exclaimed,
roughly shaking her bridle, which one of them had grasped. A man
rose heavily from a bench in front of the house, and held the donkeys
while they dismounted.

“Tst es wirhlich du!” exclaimed the old woman, “ Mezu schatz,
kind metnes bruders?” (Is it really thou, my treasure, child of my
brother?) Her face, though old and homely, showed so much real
delight that Margaret responded to her caresses by kissing her wrin-
kled cheek.

“This is thy cousin Yakob, named for thy grandfather, my loved
brother,” the old woman continued, indicating the stolid-looking
peasant who held the donkeys, “and these are his children; but come
in, come in, for I thought not to see thee in my poor house.”

It was indeed a poor house, like most cow-keepers’ chalets, occu-
pied only as a summer cottage while the animals were pastured on
the heights. Mother Lochwalder had a more comfortable and better-
stocked home in Zermatt where she passed her winters, but it did not
seem worth while to her to bring her household goods, the tall clock,
the best carved bedstead, the porcelain stove, the spinning-wheel, and
the stores of linen and pewter, on mule back up the mountains, to
their summer camping ground. Consequently the furnishings of the
first floor of the chalet, which was one great room, were of the simplest
kind. The chalet was built on a side hill, and the cow-stable and milk-
room occupied the basement. A fourth of the area of the living-room
was filled with hay, and there was a hole in the floor through which
it could be forked into the mangers. A rough stone hearth was built
up on one side of the room, and here hung the great kettle used in ©
heating ;the milk for cheese-making. Brightly scoured tin pans were ~
ranged on a shelf near by, with a few cooking utensils of the rudest
description. A large table with twisted legs stood in the centre of the
room; Mother Lochwalder’s second-best bedstead, piled high with
feather beds, in the corner opposite the hay, and the cheese-press in
OUR LADY OF POVERTY. 129

another corner. A faint smell of sour milk and of smoke was diffused
throughout the apartment; but the room was clean, and as the two
doors and window were both open, the ventilation was good and the
odors not positively unendurable. Margaret approached the fire and
sat down upon a rude bench, overcome by the poverty of her aunt’s
surroundings. Annette watched her keenly, with malicious triumph
in her expression. Mother Lochwalder bustled about, and placed on
the table a china bowl of rich cream and a loaf. of brown bread.
Margaret ate mechanically, and as she was very hungry, the supper
seemed delicious. .

“Will you have tea, my treasure?” asked the old woman. “ Annette
said you never drank it, but I have some excellent green tea with which
I indulge myself on Sundays. I have also a bottle of wine and some
sausages. Speak the word and I will cook them for you— delicious
little sausages. Katchen, bring the cheese!”

“Yes, aunt, I would like to taste the cheese if you made it, but
never mind the sausages or the wine.” Margaret spoke gently, and
Mother Lochwalder bustled about greatly delighted; but the girl’s mind
was in a turmoil of rebellion and dismay. When the old woman’s
back was turned, a strange object which had been lying under the
table, its head pillowed on the dog, crept out and approached Margaret
on all fours. The girl uttered a shriek of fright; for in the dusk of the
room, so hideous was the appearance of this unfortunate creature,
dwarfed, with long, unkempt hair, one of its bare feet twisted inward,
its clawlike fingers tapping her knee for recognition, that at first she
fancied that it was a great baboon. What added greatly to this
impression was the abnormally large ears which the dwarf had the
power'of flapping grotesquely. A second glance, and the sensation of
fear gave place to one of loathing. That pale, old face was human
indeed, but rendered hideous by frightful contortions. The dwarf con-
tinued to pat her knee, at the same time chattering incoherently.

“Oh! what is it?” Margaret exclaimed. “Take it away, take it
away!”
130 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

Annette laughed unpleasantly. “That is your cousin Nikolas,”
she said. Her revenge was complete, and a world of exultation was
expressed in her laugh. Tears were gathering in Margaret’s eyes, and
Annette doubted not that they were tears of rage and humiliation; but
she did not know Margaret. After the first horrified surprise, a great
wave of pity swept over the girl’s heart. “ Poor little thing,” she said,
~as Mother Lochwalder led the child away; “can nothing be done for
him? Is there no possible cure?”

“There are asylums, but they cost money,” said Yakob, the child’s
father.

“T will pay a him,” Margaret a promptly. “We will see
about it at once.’

Annette was rather surprised at this turn of affairs, but she said to
herself, “ Yes, mdeed, my lady, you will pay for that and for much
more before you leave us. We will make all we can out of your brief
visit; for you want to get away from us as soon as you can. I see
it in your eyes.”

Margaret rose from the table. “I am very tired,” she said, in a
voice which trembled a little in spite of the strong control which she
endeavored to place upon herself. “I think I had better bid you all
good-night.”

Annette lighted a candle, and led the way up a rude staircase,
which was hardly more than a ladder, ‘to the loft above. A partition
across one end made a bed-room, wide enough, but so low that Mar-
garet could only stand upright in the centre. The bed, with home-
spun blue coverlet, looked clean and inviting. An earthen jug of
fresh water and a brown earthenware bowl were placed on a box,
which served as dressing-table. A coarse but clean towel lay beside
it; but the place where one might have expected to find a mirror was
filled by a gaudy print of the Virgin, Our Lady of Poverty. And this
was all the furnishing which the room contained, with the exception
of Margaret’s hand-bag.
OUR LADY OF POVERTY. : 131

“ Good-night, cousin,” said Annette maliciously, as she placed the
candle in the centre of the was&-bowl, and turned to leave the room.

The word stabbed through Margaret’s stupor like a sword-thrust.
“Cousin!” she exclaimed; “my cousin! Impossible!” ’

“JT am the child of Yakob Lochwalder’s sister. Your aunt is my
grandmother. I am as nearly related to,you as the rest,” Annette
replied doggedly.

This was the unkindest cut of all. Margaret had accepted the old
peasant woman as her aunt; had accepted the poverty of the hut;
had accepted even the poor dwarf; but Annette! —her whole nature
revolted, and for the first time the old volcanic temper surged to the
surface. She was ready to shriek, “It is a lie! I do not believe it.
I never will recognize you as my cousin.” By a strong effort she
repressed the words; but she was too much agitated to make any
other reply, and turning quickly, she walked to the window, pretend-
ing to look out into the night, but seeing nothing. Annette had ex-

“pected an angry outburst, and was disappointed. Perhaps Margaret
had not heard.

“ Good-night, cousin,” she said again; “since we are relatives, we
should also be friends.” |

Margaret had partly recovered herself in that brief interval. “As
true friends as relatives,” she said, simply extending her hand. It was
a chance remark, but it struck home. Did Margaret suspect?

In spite of her effrontery, Annette was cowed, and she left the
room sullenly. Margaret waited only until Annette had descended
the ladder to sink upon the bed and indulge in a passion of hysterical
weeping. She was overwrought, physically and mentally; but sleep
came presently, to unbend the strained faculties, and give her strength
for the trials still to come.

When she awoke, the sun was shining through a hole in the wall,
—it could hardly be called a window, —and the child Katchen was
tapping at her door.
132 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“Lady cousin, lady cousin,” said Katchen, “I have brought you
some edelweiss. Grandmother said you would like it.”

Margaret rubbed her eyes, and for a moment could not realize the
situation. It all came back to her with a glance at Our Lady of
Poverty. “Come here, little girl,” she said; “I want to look at you.”

The child approached timidly. She was a pretty, flaxen-haired
little creature, with eyes as blue as German forget-me-nots, and sturdy
legs, red from paddling that morning
in a mountain-brook. On the whole
Margaret was pleased with her ap-
pearance.

“‘T foresee that we shall have fine
times together, little Katchen,” she
said. “Will you take me to walk
with you this morning?”

“Yes, heartily; but first you must
come to breakfast. We have meat; for
father killed a steinbock this morning.
He says it is a sign that you have
brought us luck, for they are rare —
very rare—and he has not been able

RanGueNe ae to shoot one before this season. They

would give him ten dollars for it below

at the hotel, but he says he will not sell his luck. Hurry, lady ; do
you not smell the meat frying? O blessed saints! is it not good?”

Margaret hastened her toilet, and was about to descend, but the
’ child lingered. “What is it, Katchen?” she asked.

“ Aren’t you going to pray to Our Lady of Poverty before you go
down?” a

Margaret felt rebuked, and replied, ‘“‘ Yes, dear, I will pray, but not
to Our Lady of Poverty. We will pray to the God of all riches, who
is able to make us rich.” And falling upon her knees, she asked for


OUR LADY OF POVERTY. 1633
grace sufficient for that day, and even as she prayed received the
answer; for Katchen softly opened the little window, and the rush
of pure, cool air across her face Seemed to her the swift sweeping of
the wings of angels sent to strengthen her.

“Look at the mountain,” Katchen said, as she rose from her
knees; and Margaret noticed for the first time that the window framed
a magnificent view of the Weisshorn—a shining crystal miracle in a
circle of billowy clouds, the morning mists apparently cleft through
by a wedge of transparent glass. Again there came to her the
exuberant uplifting of soul which she had felt on the Wengern Alp.

“T cannot fail to be noble in
such noble surroundings,” she
thought; and twining an arm
around Katchen, she joined the
family below. Honest Yakob
was smoking his porcelain pipe;
but he shut down its silver lid
with a snap as she approached.
‘““Good morning, cousin,” he said
heartily. “ My daughter Annette
here says that our ways are not
fine enough for you, but we have
a breakfast this morning that is
fit for a kaiser. I went hunting
once with the grand duke of
Baden, who was spending a
summer at The Riffel. We had
no such luck as this.” YAKOB LOCHWALDER.

‘Mother Lochwalder laughed.

“Yakob is always talking about that hunt with the grand duke,” she
said. “One would fancy that Yakob was one of the invited guests,
when in reality he was only a pack animal like the other donkeys.


134 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

It is well said, one must never believe a Yagdgeschichte” (story of a
huntsman).

Margaret expressed her appreciation and seated herself at the table
as Katchen drew up a chair for her.

“ Nay, come first without and see the creature’s head. I have cut it
off to take to Zermatt, to the taxidermist below there. He will mount
it, and sell it to some traveller who will boast that he has killed the
steinbock— the liar. Itis not every one who is quick enough to
bring down a creature like that, even if he has the luck to see him.”

“Yes, take the head to the taxidermist,” Margaret replied; “but do
not sell it. My grandfather will be glad to buy it of you, and it will
be glory enough for him to tell his friends that he has eaten a steak
from the animal.”

Nikolas stood outside the chalet looking at the head of the stein-
bock. The poor deformed creature was scarcely less repulsive by day-
light than when Margaret had first seen him; but she repressed a
shudder, and spoke to him kindly.

“ Horns, horns,” he said, pointing to the long, curving horns of the
steinbock or ibex.

“ He has some es Margaret exclaimed, eagerly; “he is
not an wee cretin.”

“Oh, no,” replied the Eater: “mother will have it that he knows
more than he can tell, but that he is bewitched, the unfortunate, by
the same spell which killed his mother, who died when he was born.
Better he had died and she had lived, for she was a good woman —
my heart’s love— my angel!”

Mother Lochwalder now appeared, and urged Margaret to take her
breakfast, which she was very willing to do. The pleasant sunshine
and bracing air gave a different aspect to the situation, and she felt
herself better able to cope with it than the evening before. She gave
only a distant nod to Annette, however, who wisely kept herself in the
background. The meat of the steinbock was strong and tough, but
OUR LADY OF POVERTY. , 135

she praised it, and assured Mother Lochwalder that her grandfather
would be delighted to have some for dinner. “And now,” she said,
after the breakfast was over, “I do not want to be a burden to you
while we stay, so you must let us pay our board as we would have to
do anywhere else.”

“ Annette said you would not want to stay long,” Yakob replied in
surprise, while Annette herself drew near and listened wonderingly.

“ This is just the region for my grandfather; he determined before
we set out on this journey that he would like to do some mountaineer-
ing in the neighborhood of Zermatt. He is not fit to climb moun-
tains; but if you can guide him where it is safe for him to go, it will
be a great Dieasure to him, and a great relief to me, and he will Pay
you well for it.”

A look of great delight passed over Yakob’s countenance. “ My
father was a guide before me and his brother, your other grandfather,
was also a guide, none better in Switzerland. I, too, am qualified to

be a guide; for I have twice climbed the Matterhorn; but no one has

ever hired me; no one would trust me after my uncle” — he hesitated
— “after my uncle went to America. And so the nearest I ever came
to being a guide was when the grand duke’s huntsman engaged me to
drive the pack mule that was to carry the game. Heillige Johannis!
but it was a light load altogether! But now if Iam seen guiding a
rich American, and carrying him safely through the season, it will be
a start in business for me for the rest of my life.”

The honest fellow’s happiness was pleasant to see. “And now,”
continued Margaret, “as I promised my grandfather to send for him
this morning, we must settle on what provision we can make for his
comfort. As he will be out of doors nearly all the time, his wants
will be simple. He will be satisfied with my little bed-room under
the roof, with the few additions which I can easily make, if you can
tuck me away somewhere else. Can I not share Annette’s room?”

Annette uttered an exclamation of astonishment. Was it possible

\
1360 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

that this proud girl had come to this, and that she was willing to
room with her former serving-maid? So thunderstruck was she, that
she did not reply. Margaret thought that she was offended by her
coldness on the preceding evening, and her impulsive nature, which
would never permit her to do anything by halves, prompted her to say,
“I think you will find me more agreeable, Cousin Annette, than in
our old relations.”

“But you cannot sleep together,” said Mother ‘Lochwalder, “ for
Annette and Katchen sleep with me, and three in one bed are enough.
We have no rooms but those you have seen. Yakob and Nikolas
‘sleep on the hay in the corner.”

“Perhaps your grandfather would be more comfortable at the
hotel in the valley,” Yakob suggested.

“T do not like to have him away from me,” Margaret explained.
“Can I not hire furniture enough to fit up the other end of the loft
as a bed-room?” —

“ We have furniture in plenty at the house in Zermatt,” said Mother
Lochwalder. “Annette, go down with thy father and see that a cart
is loaded with my best carved bedstead and plenty of bedding, and all
other things necessary, and bring it up this very day.”

“Good,” said Yakob, “we will start immediately, and Katchen, you
must help your grandmother mind the cows while I am gone. I will
bring back a herds-boy from the village that I may be the freer to
tramp it with his excellency.”

They set out at once, the head of the steinbock —a trophy of which
Yakob was very proud — hanging over his shoulder.

When they had gone, Mother Lochwalder took down her alpen-
stock and her knitting, and went out to watch the cows, grumbling a
little to herself as she went that if it were not for this duty she would
scrub the floor of the living-room, and make all more fitting for the
reception of the gracious gentleman who was to be their guest.

‘What must be done for the cows? Can I do it?” Margaret asked.
OUR LADY OF POVERTY. 137

“Simply to sit in the pasture yonder, and watch that none of them
stray, or break into the enclosed yard where the fodder is kept. If
any of them attempt to do this, call me, and I will come and help you.” ©

Margaret took the alpenstock and sat down on a stone in a corner
of the pasture. About twenty cows and a dozen calves were feeding
within a short distance. In her heart she was a miserable coward, but
she tried to assume a courageous aspect. Katchen was in a talkative
mood, and told over the names of the cows. ‘‘ That is Brown Velvet,”
said Katchen, pointing to a beautiful young creature with a hide like
black plush brindled with fawn-color. “She wears the silver bell, and
she knows that she is princess. All the others follow her, and none
of them would dare to take the lead, nor would the others follow a
cow that did not wear the bell. You should see the cows when they
set out for the Alm in the early summer. The instant the collars are
placed on their necks they understand, and range themselves in order
of procession, and it is just so when we leave the Alm in the fall to
return to the valley.”

“ But there are other cows wearing bells,” Margaret remarked.

“Yes, but only one silver bell. Listen; its tinkle is different from
the rest, and as it is larger, the sound is louder and clearer. The other
bells are all tuned to chime. with the leader’s. Grandmother paid
thirty dollars for the set. See the beautiful red embroidery on the
collars!” é

“Tf all the other cows follow the leader, I should think it would be
very important that she should be a well-behaved creature, not given
to gadding about.”

“ She is, and so teachable, at the first sound of the yodel she will
leave the richest clover, and follow. Nikolas, yodel for our lady
cousin, and show her how Brown Velvet will come!”

“Pray, do not!” Margaret exclaimed. ‘I had much rather she
would stay where she is.”

“ Nikolas can yodel so beautifully,” said Katchen. “You must

\
138 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

hear him some day, but he is afraid to do it unless he is told to; for
once he led the cows into a distant ravine and gave father trouble to
find them.”

Nikolas sprang from the ground and went through the pantomime
of yodelling without uttering a sound.

“Not now, good Nikolas,” Margaret entreated. The strange
creature replied with many uncouth contortions, and, turning a hand-
spring, capered away toward the other side of the pasture.

“Ought we not to watch him and keep him from straying as well
as the cows?” Margaret asked.

_ “Nikolas? Oh, no! hé goes where he will, and he is never lost.
Do see him now! he has climbed that tree like a squirrel.”

They chatted on for a little while, when Margaret was startled by
a low bellowing, and looking up saw a huge bull between them and
the chalet, and trotting directly toward them. “O Katchen!” she
exclaimed, “what shall we do?”

“Tt is Schreckhorn who has got out of his pen. Run, run!” shouted
Katchen, suiting the action to the word; but Margaret was paralyzed
with terror, and could not move. She did not notice that the bull
‘was attracted not by herself, but by Brown Velvet who was quietly
feeding just beyond her. On came’ the bull, when suddenly, clear
and distinct across the pasture, like the warbling of some strange bird,
sounded the yodel. Brown Velvet shook her silver bell and trotted in’
the direction of Nikolas, who had scrambled down out of his tree and
skipped along with many strange antics, yodelling as he went. The
bull turned abruptly and followed Brown Velvet, and Margaret, re-
stored to the possibility of action by her release, ran quickly to the
chalet. Mother Lochwalder, mop in hand, ran to the pasture and
succeeded in getting the bull inside the pen which he had quitted;
but Margaret was too much unstrung to watch the cows any longer
that day. She believed that Nikolas had seen her danger and had
yodelled with the intention of drawing away the bull. Her gratitude
OUR LADY OF POVERTY. iso

was excited, and her respect for his intelligence heightened. “He is
not idiotic, | am sure of that,” she said to herself, and when he came
into the chalet she called him to her and tried to draw him into con-
versation. But he was either more wanting than she had thought, or
else he was wilfully perverse; for he would not reply, but retired to his
favorite resting-place under the table, and sat there nursing his knees,
with the dancing firelight re-
flected in his eyes, till they
glowed like coals, and he re-
minded her of one of the little
mountain gnomes which the
Germans love to imagine.

The next event of the day,
which followed almost imme-
diately, was the arrival of her
grandfather. He did not come
on foot with Yakob, as she had
anticipated, but in a carriage,
and accompanied by the count-
ess and Lajos. Margaret had
not expected a visit from them. :
She fancied that she had parted A GoATHERD OF THE ZERMATT VALLEY.
from her friends finally the 7 ;
night before. Indeed, so much emotion and such an entirely new
range of experience had been crowded into the past twenty-four hours,
that she could hardly realize that it wa$ only on the preceding after-
noon that she had left the countess at the Riffel Hotel.

The countess raised her lorgnette as she entered the chalet, and
looked about her with undisguised scorn.

“So this is your aunt’s abode!” she exclaimed in good German,
abandoning her attempts at English, as she always did when greatly
excited. “And where is the lady?”


~

140 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“She is ferane the cows in the pasture,” Margaret Sie holding
her head very high, and fearing that the countess might mistake the
flush of indignation on her cheeks for a blush of shame.

‘““So—a fine accomplishment, indeed!” Yakob entered the house,
and hung his hat above his gun. ‘And is that boor also related to
you?”

“He is my cousin.”

The countess laughed in a disagreeable manner. “ And why, when
you conferred upon us the honor of your acquaintance, did you not
inform us of the distinguished station of your honorable family?”

“T did not know it myself, aa

“A likely story.”

“Tf my relatives and their home displease you, may I be permitted
to remind you, madame, that you are an uninvited guest?”

“Highty, tighty! But I like you the better for standing up for
your people. Merciful heavens, what have we here?” Nikolas had
crept from under the table, and was feeling of the countess’s robe, as
he had felt of Margaret’s the night before. “What, is it a family of
idiots? Take the loathsome creature away!” It was only twenty-
four hours since Margaret had been moved by a similar impulse of
revolt, but she sprang now to the boy’s side, and led him tenderly
away from the countess, lifting the slight, misshapen figure to a seat
beside her on the hearth. “My cousin Nikolas is deformed, but he
is not an idiot,” she said. “He was quick-witted enough this morning
to save my life, and I should be base not to love him for it.”

‘Ah! you mean that I have forgotten that you saved my life.”

“No, madame, I had forgotten it myself; besides, it was not I, but
Alice, who did it.”

“ There, there, don’t get angry. One would think you belonged to
my family by the way you fly into a temper. It is no fault of yours,
child, that your relatives are not presentable. I like you, and I have a
proposition to make to you. Give them a little money. Buy from
OUR LADY OF POVERTY. I4t

them a promise that they will never trouble you again. Cut yourself
loose from them, and I will adopt you; for I have given up all hope of
finding my friend’s niece. You shall take her place in my heart and
my fortune. Come! I am a fiery-tempered old lady, but I love you.
That is your aunt, I presume, with the pail of swill. Which of us do
you prefer?”

There was a yearning tenderness in the countess’s voice, which
moved Margaret in spite of her indignation. .

“ Pardon me, dear countess, but it is not a matter of preference,”
she replied, kindly. ‘‘We do not choose our relatives. God gives
them to us and us to them. I thank you more than I can tell, but this
is my place, and I must stay here.”

“T said well that it was a family of idiots,” exclaimed the countess.
‘“‘T believe you are an idiot yourself. Lajos, your arm. Conduct me to
the carriage.”

Lajos obeyed, and Margaret thought that he too had cast her off ;
but a moment afterward he returned.

‘“Miss Margaret,” he said, respectfully, “allow me to assure you of
my profound admiration.”

“ And gratitude?” Margaret added, mischievously, though the tears
trembled on her lashes. “ Are you so glad that I did not accept the
countess’s offer?”

“No, truly. I wish with all my heart that we had any one in our
family so truly noble. Can you not come with us now, and later
explain everything ? ”

“No, Lajos, I cannot repudiate my relatives.”

“Good by, then, friend Margaret. I am proud to call you so.”

- “Good by, friend Lajos.”

The Judge, who had been listening in an utterly dazed manner,
now asked Margaret to explain what it all meant. Margaret did so,
and he assumed a judicial expression. “As between the plaintiff, the
‘honorable Countess de Krajova and the defendant cow-keeperess
142 THREE VASSAR GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND.

Lochwalder,” he said, stroking his beard with a sly twinkle in his
gray eyes. “As between the claims of these ladies, the court, without
having seen the said cow-keeperess, renders its decision in favor of
the defendant; for,” he added, “that countess is a vixen and any
variety of woman-kind would be pleasanter as a relative.”

Mother Lochwalder entered at this juncture and was duly pre-
sented, but as the Judge could not speak German or Mother Loch-
walder English, their greetings were confined to bows and curtsies.

While Mother Lochwalder was preparing dinner, Margaret told
her grandfather of the head of the steinbock which had been sent
away to be mounted for him. She led him out upon the balcony, and
made him admire the superb view, and even ventured with him into
the cow-yard where Yakob was milking, showed him Brown Velvet
and the chime of. silver bells and told him of the adventure of the
day. Then they went in to supper and the worthy man enjoyed a
piece of broiled steinbock followed by Swiss cheese, coffee and mar-
malade —“a dinner fit for a king!” he declared.

Shortly after, Annette appeared before the chalet with an ox-cart
loaded with household furniture, and the remainder of the eventful |
day was employed in converting the loft into a bed-room for the
Judge.

The good man was delighted with everything. “It is like rough-
ing it in the Rockies,” he confided to Margaret, “and will make a
capital episode in my lecture.”
LIFE AT THE ALM. 143

CEA PATE RT
LIFE AT THE ALM.

Here it may well seem to the traveller if there be sometimes hardships, there’ must be at
least innocence and peace, and fellowship of the human soul with nature. It is not so. The
wild goats that leap along those rocks have as much passion of joy in all that fair work of God,
as the men that toil among them; perhaps more. They do not understand so much as the name
of beauty or of knowledge. They understand dimly that of virtue. Love, patience, hospitality,
faith — these things they know. To glean their meadows side by side, so happier; to bear the
burden up the breathless mountain flank unmurmuringly; to bid the stranger drink from their
vessel of milk; to see at the foot of their low death-beds a pale figure upon a cross dying also
patiently, —in this they are different from the cattle and the stones. — RUSKIN.

ARGARET began at once to assist in the regular home work
M at the chalet. There was plenty to be done. While Yakob,
having performed the morning milking, was away on long
tramps with the Judge, it was necessary that some one should watch
the cows, and as Margaret had had enough of this occupation, Annette
usually undertook it, and Margaret relieved Mother Lochwalder by
making the cheese, while Katchen did the morning churning. There
were so many operations in the cheese-making, that it occupied nearly
all the forenoon. A trap-door led from the living-room to the milk-
room which opened from the stable. The Judge had been their guest
but a few days before he showed Yakob how to conduct a stream of
water from a neighboring brook through the dairy, making a cool canal
in which the milk-pans could stand, and to lead it after it had done
this service into a trough in front of the noses of the cattle so as to
do away with the drudgery of bringing water to them. The Judge
was much amused by their primitive methods of carrying on their
work, and was constantly inventing and suggesting labor-saving
144 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

machines. It was a difficult feat to climb the ladder from the dairy
with a milk-pan in one’s hands, and after Margaret had spilled several,
the Judge constructed a rude dumb-waiter, by which the milk could
be hoisted to a height from which it could be easily poured into the
great cauldron, into which it must be warmed before it could be con-
verted into Swiss cheese. Mother Lochwalder would then put in the
rennet, and Margaret would stir it continually for half an hour when
it would be curdled, and could be strained and the curds put in the
press. Then the whey must be carried out to the pigs, and the churn,
milk-pails, and pans washed and scoured. All of this Margaret took
upon herself, while Mother Lochwalder performed the other house-
hold duties. Then there was the ‘task of turning the heavy cheeses
and rubbing them with salt, and after that her labor for the day was
over. Annette had brought up the spinning-wheel with the other
furniture from Zermatt, and after their noonday meal Mother Loch-
walder would sit in front of the house and spin, while Katchen would
knit interminable stockings. Margaret chose this time to instruct the
children. She found that Nikolas had one talent of no mean order.
Among Mother Lochwalder’s treasures was a fine zither; on this
Nikolas would play by the hour, pouncing upon the strings with his
misshapen clawlike fingers and bringing out weird strains, imitations
of the wind and of the cries of birds. On Sundays there were
generally visitors at the Alm; their nearest neighbors from other
pastures, or old friends from Zermatt. Frequently a musician was
found among them who would touch the zither while the others sang
the Alpine ballads. A plaintive one was the farewell to the Alm.
“ Farewell to the pastures
So sunny and bright ;

The herdsman must leave you
When summer takes flight.

“We shall come to the mountains again, when the voice
Of the cuckoo is heard, bidding all things rejoice ;
LIFE AT THE ALM. 145

When the earth dons her fairest and freshest array,
- And the streamlets are flowing in beautiful May.

“To pastures and meadows,
Farewell, then, once more !

The herdsman must go,
For the summer is o’er.”

‘During the singing of these songs Nikolas would sit spellbound,
and after the visitors had departed would often reproduce them in

part upon the zither.
Margaret thought of the music-
box which her grandfather had
purchased in Geneva, and she
set it in motion before Nikolas.
It really seemed as if the little
fellow would go wild with delight.
He hugged it in his arms, and
capered and danced; then car-
ried it under the table, and lay
down with it beneath his head.
Very patiently Margaret set her-
self to teach him some of the
rudiments of music. She was

able to hire a poor piano in -

Zermatt, and she had it brought
to-the chalet and placed near the

One day :



YAKOB ACCEPTS HIS RELATIVES.

cheese-press. It was a difficult task, but she never wearied; for she felt

sure of ultimate success.

Annette, though apparently absorbed in her

embroidery-frame and in tending the cows, watched her narrowly. .
She had not had the pleasure of seeing Margaret betrayed into a
single exhibition of temper; .and she could not help feeling that she
was thwarted in her revenge, while she wondered what had come
over the girl, and still regarded her with cold suspicion and hatred.
146 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“T tell you,” Yakob had said, when alone with his daughter, “1
heard her, with my own ears, refuse the offer of that great lady to be
taken away with her, and to be adopted as her niece.”

“What!” exclaimed Annette. “Did she refuse to be the niece of
the countess? And for what reason?”

“ Because, as she said, she preferred to share the lot of her own
people. Ah! blood is stronger than water. She has proved herself
a true Lochwalder. I did not think, from what you said, that I would
like her or her grandfather; but they are as good as any of us. So
here’s to them, say I,” and lifting a huge porcelain tankard of beer to
his lips, he drained it to the dregs in honor of his new relations.

A feeling of shame came over Annette for the first time. So long
as she was sure that Margaret would revolt at the relationship, and
disown it if possible, she had felt no compunction for her deception;
but that she should accept the situation so sweetly was something
utterly beyond her conception, and it grew more and more galling as.
the days went on.

No better guide could have been found for the erratic Judge than
Yakob Lochwalder. He took him on trips suited to his strength, —
on short and easy ones at first, —or else prevailed upon him to make
the longer expeditions on mule-back. For a time, the Judge enjoyed
these safe excursions immensely; but after a time they failed to
satisfy him. The Matterhorn was always before him, exercising the
same fateful fascination which it had wielded over so many unfortu-
nate travellers. It was in vain that he was told of the accidents which
had occurred to experienced mountaineers while vainly attempting its
ascent. He was madly bent upon it. The summit had been really
attained by Mr. Edward Whymper, and the Judge insisted on fol-
lowing his example.

In her endeavor to disenchant her grandfather Margaret read him
one evening Mr. Whymper’s account of his repeated trials and his
final ascent, at once so successful and so disastrous, since they suc-
LIFE AT THE ALM. 147

ceeded at the expense of the death of four of the party. No descrip-
tion of the Matterhorn gives so perfect an idea of its charm and its
danger as this thrilling story, and we insert it here: —

“We started,” says Edward Whymper, “from Zermatt on the 13th
of July, 1865, at half-past five on a perfectly cloudless morning. We
were eight in number. [Lord Francis Douglas, Messrs. Hudson,
Hadow, and Whymper, and the guides, Michel Croz and Peter Taug-
walder and his son.]| On the first day we did not intend to ascend
to any great height, and we mounted very leisurely. At half-past
eleven we arrived at the base’of the actual peak. Before twelve we
had found a good position for the tent at a height of eleven thousand
feet. Long after dusk the cliffs echoed with our laughter and the
songs of the guides.

“We assembled together outside the tent before dawn on the
morning of the 14th, and started directly it was light. On turning to
the eastern face, the whole of the great slope was revealed, rising for
three thousand feet, like a huge natural staircase.

“ At 9.55 we arrived at the foot of that part which from Zermatt
seems perpendicular or overhanging, and could no longer continue on
the eastern side. By common consent we turned to the right or
northern side. The work became difficult, and required caution.
The general slope of the mountain was less than forty degrees; and
- snow had accumulated in it, and filled the interstices of the rock face,
leaving only occasional fragments projecting here and there. These
were at times covered with a thin film of ice. This solitary, difficult
part was of no great extent. A long stride around a rather awkward
‘corner brought us to snow once more. The last doubt vanished.
The Matterhorn was ours! Croz now took the tent-pole, and planted
it in the highest snow. ‘Yes, we said, ‘there is the flagstaff; but
where is the flag?’ ‘Here it is, he answered, pulling off his blouse,
and fixing it to the stick. It made a poor flag; and there was no
wind to float it out, yet it was seen all around. They saw it at
“148 THREE VASSAR GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND.

Zermatt, at The Riffel, in the Val Tournache. At Breuil the watchers
cried, ‘ Victory is ours!’

“We remained on the summit for one hour,—‘one crowded. hour
of glorious life. It passed away too quickly, and we began to prepare
for the descent.

“We agreed that it would be best for Croz to go first, and Hadow
second; Hudson, who was almost equal to a guide, wished to be third;
Lord F. Douglas was placed next, and old Peter Taugwalder, the
strongest of the remainder, after him. A few minutes later I tied
myself to young Peter, ran down after the others, and caught them
just as they were commencing the descent of the difficult part. Great
care was being taken, only one man moving at a time. Lord F-
Douglas asked me to tie on to old Peter, as he feared that he would
not be able to hold his ground if a slip occurred. No one was actually
descending when Mr. Hadow slipped, fell against Croz, and knocked
him over. I heard one startled exclamation from Croz, then saw him
and Mr. Hadow flying downward. In another moment Hudson was
dragged from his steps, and Lord F. Douglas immediately after him.
All this was the work of a moment. Immediately we heard Croz’s
exclamation, old Peter and I planted ourselves as firmly as the rocks
would permit. The rope was taut between us, and the jerk came on
us both as on one man. We held, but the rope broke midway between
Taugwalder and Lord Francis Douglas. Fora few seconds we saw
our unfortunate companions sliding downward on their backs, and
spreading out their hands, endeavoring to save themselves. They
passed from our sight uninjured, disappeared one by one, and fell from
precipice to precipice on to the Matterhorn gletscher below, a distance
of nearly four thousand feet in height. From the moment the rope
broke it was impossible to help them. For more than two hours
afterward I thought every moment that the next would be my last;
for the Taugwalders, utterly unnerved, were not only incapable of
giving assistance, but were in such a state that a slip might have been
LIFE AT THE ALM. 149





















































































































































































































































































THE ACCIDENT ON THE MATTERHORN.

expected from one or the other at any moment. Immediately on my:
arrival at Zermatt I sent to the President of the Commune, and
150 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

requested him to send as many men as possible to ascend heights,
whence the spot could be commanded where I knew the four must
have fallen. By 8.30 Sunday morning we had got within sight of the
corner, in which we knew my companions must be. As we saw one
weather-beaten man after another raise the telescope, turn deadly pale,
and pass it on without a word to the next, we knew that all hope was
gone.”

The bodies of the unfortunate men, with the exception of Lord
Francis Douglas, were recovered and buried at Zermatt.

Margaret translated the account into German for the benefit of
Mother Lochwalder. “Ah, yes!” she said, “I remember that expedi-
tion well, and how every one said,-' This will put an end to the foolish
risking of life in attempting to climb the mountain.’ But, no; there
were more attempts than ever. The young men of Zermatt were crazy
to say that they had accomplished it, and not the young men only, but
the young women also; and Theresa Carrel, the daughter of a noted
guide, really got to the top. I warrant you she had offers of marriage
in plenty after that. Then Professor Tyndal, who was often in the val-
ley, and had tried it time and time again, would not be beaten by this
Mr. Whymper, and at last he succeeded. And then some Italians
gained the summit from the south. And after that every dandy who
came into the valley with an alpenstock must needs try; but only one
out of a hundred succeeds, though they have cut out a path and fastened
chains along the face of that slippery rock where the mountaineers you
read of met their death. But look you, it is no pleasure excursion still.
Tell your grandfather to be warned by us, and not to attempt it; for
this family has woful cause to dread the Matterhorn.. It was fleeing
from the revenge of the Matterhorn that your other grandfather, my
brother, went to America; and now it seems as if the mountain had
drawn one of your family back by an evil spell to wreak its doom upon
him.”

“How was it, Mother Lochwalder?” Margaret asked. “I have
LIFE AT THE ALM. I5I

often wondered what caused my grandfather Lochwalder to leave
Switzerland, and I wish you would tell me the story.”

The old woman seemed inclined to comply, but Yakob spoke up.
“ There is no need of distressing her with that old scandal,” he said to.
his mother. “Your. grandfather, my uncle, was an honest man,” he
added, speaking to Margaret. “It matters not what others say to the
contrary. Ask no more, for you will get only lies and sorrow for your
pains.”

“T am glad that you can assure me that there is no stain on my
-grandfather’s honor,” Margaret replied. “So long as we know that he
did only what was right it is no matter what others may say of him.”

No one replied, and Margaret left the room. As she did so,
Annette remarked significantly, “ What did I tell you! She is proud,
proud to the core. It is well you did not tell her the truth. She
would have dropped us as if we were offal if you had done so.”

Margaret was of course only the more keenly anxious to hear the
entire story, but she restrained her curiosity for the time, sure that it

would all come out in the end. For many days she puzzled over the
- mystery which connected the emigration of her supposed Grandfather
Lochwalder with the Matterhorn, without coming to any satisfactory
result. But one afternoon she thought that she had discovered the solu-
tion in a story of Katchen’s. Much that was weird and supernatural
was connected with the mountain by popular tradition, and Katchen told
her many fairy tales of gnomes and elves that inhabited its caves. The
child informed her gravely that the top of the mountain was only a
step lower than heaven, and that, before it had been climbed by mor-
tal foot, the spirits of all good people who had died in Zermatt and the
regions round had preferred to make their residence here in sight of
their old homes rather than go quite away from their dear ones, and
that the top of the mountain had been fitted up as a Paradise for them.
“ The streams were bridged with long loaves of bread, the paths paved ~
with cheeses, the cracks in the rocks plastered with butter, and people
152 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

amused themselves with playing nine-pins with balls made of cheese
and pins of butter.” So said the child, and she firmly believed, not
only that holy men and women attained this Paradise, but also that
the gentlest and most faithful animals were, at their death, transported
thither. “ Brown Velvet would have gone there,” she was sure, if the
sanctuary had remained inviolate. Old chamois hunters had said that
sometimes they had seen herds of wonderfully beautiful chamois sport-
ing on the sides of the mountain, and when they had shot at them the
leaden bullets rebounded from their sides as though they were bon-
bons, and the chamois spread out delicate wings, spotted like those of
butterflies, and floated’ away to the summit.
_ Herds of spirit cows, too, whose bells played celestial tunes, had
been sometimes seen by adventurous herdsmen, who had mounted
nearly to the top. One of these had been caught, her father had told
her, by some relative of theirs, and had been brought to the Alm.
It had escaped after a time, and undoubtedly made its way back to
the mountain, but had left behind it a calf, which had been reared,
and had become a very beautiful heifer, taking the prize at all of the
fairs. This animal had in its turn disappeared on one moonlight
night, when the trap-door had been left open in the kitchen floor.
It was Yakob’s belief that the creature had unfolded wings, like those
of the spirit chamois, and had flown straight up through the kitchen
chimney to the magic mountain. Brown Velvet was a descendant
of this wonderful creature, and it was Katchen’s fear that the beautiful
animal might sometime develop her butterfly wings and soar away,
and she frequently stroked Brown Velvet’s sides to see if the wings
were budding. |
Margaret reminded the child of her grandmother’s saying, that a
_ huntsman’s stories are not to be believed, and then wondered if this
were not the crime on the Matterhorn committed by her grandfather,
for which he had fled the country. It seemed absurd that so childish
a fable should be believed by grown people, and yet they were all
LIFE AT THE ALM. 153

singularly childlike, and she determined to ask Mother Lochwalder
about it that evening. An event occurred that day which, while it
was connected with this fairy tale, was so startling and terrible, that
all curiosity in regard to her dead grandfather was blotted out by her
anxiety for her living one.

The story of Mr. Whymper’s ascent had the same enone on the
Judge as its first recital had had upon the fraternity of Alpine climbers
—he was all the more eager to attempt the Matterhorn. Yakob
manifested fortunately a great reluctance to undertake it. He had
made the ascent, and he knew the difficulties were too great for the
Judge; moreover, he had a superstitious fear of the Matterhorn’s
revenge — some fatality to come to himself from the undertaking.
He consequently continued to tempt the Judge to make many another
excursion, to shoot chamois in the Einfisch Valley, to look for crystals
along the edge of the glacier, and to trudge over the Theodule Pass
into Italy. This last was a favorite scheme of Yakob’s, and the Judge
had given it his approval. “I will go around to Mont Blanc that
way, Lochwalder,” he had said, “ but that will be after I have exhausted
Zermatt and conquered the Matterhorn.”

Margaret sighed. “If Mr. Walker were only here!” she said to
herself.

Yakob had exhausted all the attractions of the many expeditions
to be made with Zermatt as a centre, and as a last resort, to furnish
an excuse for not attempting the grand ascension, he feigned a
sprained ankle. The Judge accepted the situation. It was manifestly
impossible for Yakob to guide him up the Matterhorn until he should
recover. Meantime, with commendable patience, he contented him-
self with tending the cows with Annette, Nikolas, and the great dog.
The summer had advanced, and they had crepped all the pasturage
in the vicinity of the Alm. It was necessary to drive them every
morning far up the mountain, to a nook from which the snow had
but lately melted, and the grass had a spring-like juiciness. They
154 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

would set out after the morning milking, carrying their luncheon
with them, and would not return until evening. One morning, after
they were well on their way, a spirit of perverseness seemed to enter
into Brown Velvet, and she deviated from the regular route, plunging
down a path which led to the Matterhorn glacier. It was all that
Annette could do, by placing herself directly in the way, and striking
lusty blows, to keep the other cows from following their leader. She
was effectually aided by the dog, and succeeded at last in getting the
herd started upon the right path.

“Take them on to the pasture,” said the Judge, “and Nikolas and
I will go after Brown Velvet. We will soon find her and rejoin you.”

Nikolas had greatly improved under Margaret’s tuition. He
was not really wanting, but simply very backward in expressing the
intelligence which he really possessed, and his deformed figure so
greatly shocked strangers that he gloated in the terror and disgust
which he excited, and, up to Margaret’s coming, had made no
attempt to contradict the general impression that he was a hopeless
cretin, with only a capacity for malice. Margaret was the first out-
side his immediate family who had overcome her first repugnance, and
had treated him kindly. She believed in his capacity and encouraged
him to show it. The Judge, too, took a marked interest in him, and
he began to pick up English words with a rapidity really remarkable.
As they hurried down the mountain together, following Brown Velvet,
Nikolas capered on in advance with great glee. He had heard
Katchen’s legend of the fairy cows, and had understood more of it
than any one suspected; for when they reached the glacier and found
that Brown Velvet had disappeared from view, he spread out his arms
to mimic the action of flying and pointed to the Matterhorn.

The Judge understood him. “You think Brown Velvet has gone
to the enchanted pastures on the top of the mountain?”

Nikolas nodded energetically, and ran on all the more eagerly,
beckoning and calling, “ Come, come! Claus know short way.”
LIFE AT THE ALM. 155

“ Do you really know the way to the top of the Matterhorn: ’

Nikolas nodded again, very knowingly. “Claus been there,” he said.

It was possible, the Judge thought, for the dwarf was stronger
than most men, and could run and leap and skip over the most dan-
gerous cliffs, and face without dizziness the deepest precipices. He
had more than once failed to come back at nightfall from his long
rambles, and could not or would not give an account of where he had
been. The Judge suspected that Yakob had no intention of guiding
him up the Matterhorn, and here was a most tempting opportunity.
The way was plain enough; it seemed impossible to miss it; it was
still early in the morning They were provided with luncheon,
with alpenstocks, matches, a pocket telescope, and compass. What
a fine idea it would be to escape this rather vexatious surveillance and
surprise them all by making the ascent! He had no faith in the
pretty fancy of the fairy cows, but he was willing to humor Nikolas’s
belief in it in order to secure his companionship. He accordingly
took out his telescope and pretended to be anxiously scanning the
sides of the Matterhorn in search of Brown Velvet. At the edge of
the glacier they met a peasant boy, and the Judge, with consideration for
Margaret’s anxiety, wrote her a note telling her of his determination,
and that she must not be alarmed if he did not return on the next
day. “If you can send some one with a good supper to meet us at
‘the half-way cabin on our return to-morrow evening,” he concluded,
“it would be a noble idea. I have just bought a bottle of milk and
a hare of this peasant, which will provision the expedition until then.”

The Judge hurried on with the feeling of wicked elation experi-
enced by a naughty school-boy who is playing truant, mingled with a
haunting fear that. he might be overtaken and dragged back. On
receiving the note, the peasant had set out immediately for the Alm;
but the Judge recalled him, as this last apprehension occurred to him,
and managed to make the boy understand that there was no hurry,
and the note need not be delivered until toward evening.
156 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN. SWITZERLAND.

They proceeded across the glacier with so little difficulty that the
Judge’s confidence in his young guide increased, and he felt sure
that he must have been over the ground before. But how wide the
‘glacier was! They had been walking for a long time, and the great
icy river was only half crossed. The Judge began to be very hungry,
and Nikolas took a hard crust of black bread from his pocket, and
gnawed it ravenously. A little farther on, they came to a broken -
branch of a pine-tree
which had been carried
by the moving ice from
far up the mountain. It
was too good an oppor-
tunity to be lost; and
the Judge cut up the
branch with his great
jack - knife, and soon
kindled a little fire.
“This is something
like, at last,’ he said
to Nikolas, as he de-
lightedly warmed his



Rete ae eeeER a aCe Se eG hands over the blaze.

“Now, if we only had

some coffee! However, we can heat the milk, and we can roast
the hare.’ They enjoyed their picnic keenly, eating only a part
of the hare, and wrapping up the remainder for their breakfast.
After the meal they proceeded on their way, crossing the remainder
of the glacier in a short time, and striking up a long couloir or gully
between the slopes on the other side. It was shaded by high cliffs,
and paved with smooth, hard snow, easy to walk upon. The Judge
could not see the cabin; but he doubted not that this was the regular
. way, and that a sudden turn would bring them to it. He trudged on
LIFE AT THE ALM. | , Gy

gleefully, and, ignorant of the danger which he incurred, began to
sing “Marching through Georgia.” The cliffs echoed the strains
resoundingly, until it almost seemed as if a small portion of Sherman’s
army was tramping up the white road. Suddenly there was a report
like that of a pistol; then the Judge felt the sheet of snow on which
he stood sliding under him, slowly at first, but with increasing rapidity.
Nikolas shrieked aloud, “ An avalanche!”

Swifter and swifter, like the rush of a toboggan, the cake of snow
on which they stood sped onward. Paralyzed with terror, they
watched the front edge of this cake crumbling’ and breaking into
fine spray as they drove onward. Would the cake last until they
reached the glacier at the foot of the couloir? the Judge wondered,
when suddenly a new danger loomed ahead. Right before them,
the couloir was divided by a crag: one branch—the one. up which
they had come — leading down to the glacier; the other, to the right
of the rock, descended steeply for a little distance, and then ended
at the brink of a precipice, a wide crevasse between the glacier and
the side of the mountain. Which way would the snow toboggan
take? There was no means of guiding it,—and the moment of
suspense which ensued was terrible. To the Judge’s horror, the cake
of snow struck the crag fairly in the centre, and was broken into a
hundred pieces. Buried under the loose snow and by the following
mass, he was still rolled on, in which direction he could not tell.
Then there was a sense of suffocation, a fall, and he knew no more.
I 58 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

CHAPTER X.

Lost !

Here let us leave him—for his shroud the snow;
For funeral lamps he has the planets seven;
For a great sign the icy stair shall go
Between the heights to heaven.

One moment stood he as the angels stand,
High in the stainless eminence of air;

The next he was not, to his fatherland
Translated unaware.

MYERs.

HE Judge was only too successful in his escapade. Annette
remained all day with the cattle at the upper pasture. She was
not alarmed that the Judge and Nikolas did not rejoin her; for

she presumed that they had been wearied by their chase after Brown
Velvet and had decided to remain with her at the Alm. The peasant
did not need the Judge’s parting admonition to take his own time; for
he was on his way to a distant chalet and had decided that he could
most conveniently deliver the note to Margaret on his return that
evening.

In happy unconsciousness of her grandfather’s danger, Margaret
passed a delightful day. She was relieved from the cheese-making by
Yakob, who ceased limping as soon as the Judge was out of sight, and,

‘taking a bit of embroidery and some of her grandfather’s books, she
wandered with Katchen to her favorite nook, the shelf of rock which
commanded the grand view of the Matterhorn, the spot where she had
paused on her. way to the Alm two months before, and had bidden
farewell to the old life of frivolity and accepted the unknown new life.
LOST. 159

She smiled at the trepidation and stern resolve with which she. had
approached the change. It all seemed so simple and sweet to her
now. These poor people had received her so kindly and had taken
her to their hearts so cordially that she loved them all. She could see,
too, that she was doing them all good. Even Annette, though she -
was still inexplicable in her varying moods, was sometimes wonderfully
devoted, rising early and doing all that she could for Margaret before
it was time to drive the cows to pasture. Just how it was all to end
she was not sure. Her parents had written inviting the Lochwalders
to remove to America, but the old mother and Yakob were not willing
to emigrate. They were contented as they were and too old, they
said, to learn new ways. Yakob had given her the children, and Mar-
garet pleased herself with thinking how pretty Katchen would change
and improve with American influences and education. Of Nikolas’s
musical ability she had high hopes. He was so fond of her, too,
and would rub his shaggy head against her dress in such an affection-
ate, doggish way, evidently striving to express by actions the love
which he could not tell in words. Annette, under her unloving exte-
rior, was passionately attached to her unfortunate cousin. At first his
attachment to Margaret filled her with angry jealousy; but as she
could not help seeing how patiently Margaret strove to release his
poor imprisoned mind, she experienced a vague remorse for her own
unworthy deception. Her revenge was not bringing her the satisfac-
tion which she anticipated, but her pride and obstinacy kept her from
confessing her fraud. |

As Margaret sat that morning on the brink of the precipice, she
thought of Wordsworth’s lines, —

Beneath these mountains many a soft vale lies,
And lofty springs give birth to lowly streams.

Life, even here, was not so stern and savage as it had seemed at first.
She had wished to know the real life of the poor. She had shared
160 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

their experiences, and had found humble pleasures mingled with the
toil; for love sweetens all things. She was sure now that true friend-
ship was better than rank or wealth. And she was thankful that so.
many friendships had come into her life. There was one friend whom
she counted true, but from whom she had not heard for several months.
Where among these mountain paths and glaciers was Livingston
Walker? She had thought of him that morning when the music-box
played the air of Cecilia's song, —

2 The winter may perish, the spring pass away,
The summer may fade, and the year decay,
Thou wilt be mine, thou wilt return to me:
I’ve promised to wait, and Vl truly wait for thee.

: God help thee if still the sun shines on thee,

God bless thee if before his glory thou be;

Ul wait for thee, and Vl not wait in vain 3

For if thou wait’st above, ah! then we'll meet again.

It was a Jame translation, and she had scoffed at the sentiment;
but there was something in it which touched her now, and tears, for
which she could have given no reason, sprang to her eyes. She
brushed them away quickly; for some one below the cliff was singing
that very song. Some.one was coming up the mountain-path. An
elastic, eager footstep measured the rocky way with long strides, and
sent the pebbles rolling down the cliff. She knew who it was before
she looked up. Livingston Walker had come at last. It lacked only
this to make the day a perfect one, and she greeted him with more of
pleasure than surprise. “This is even finer than the Wengern Alp,
is. it not?” she said; and the young man acknowledged that it was.
He had come from the Grimsel on foot by way of Visp and the St.
Nicholas Valley; and he had much to tell her of his adventures since
he had last seen her on the glacier of the Aar and on the Great
Aletsch Glacier, as well as of a trip through the Austrian Tyrol.
ZOSE - 161

“It seems very Natural to see you again,” said Margaret; “but how
did you know that we were here?”

“JT received a letter from your grandfather a week since, telling me
of your wanderings, and inviting me to come and ascend the Mat-
terhorn with him.”

“You don’t mean to encourage him in that insane idea?”

“On the contrary, I thought that I might be of use about this time
in suggesting something a little more feasible,— Mont Blanc, for
instance. I would like to make that ascent myself before I return to
America. From his letter I judged that your grandfather was getting
restless. He says, ‘They watch me as if I were a child, and throw all °
manner of obstacles in the way of my attemping the Matterhorn; but
some fine day I shall give them the slip.’” .

“You are just in time,” Margaret replied. “I was wishing only
yesterday that you were here. I think grandfather ought to go away
from this vicinity for a time. The Matterhorn exercises such a fasci-
nation over him. I do not wonder, it is so defiantly beautiful. Look,
Mr. Walker! Did you ever see anything more magnificent?”

“Tt does indeed remind me -of our day on the Wengern Alp,”
Walker replied. “Did you notice that avalanche? We are too far
away to hear the reverberations, but the puff of snow-spray was plainly
discernible.”

“T was just reading about an avalanche,” Margaret replied. “ Per-
haps you would like to continue the reading while I embroider.”

Mr. Walker examined the book. “It is the account of the death
of the guide Bennen, one of the best descriptions of an avalanche
ever written. I will read it with pleasure: —

“*On Feb. 28, 1864, we (M. Gossett and M. Boissonnet) left Sion
with Bennen to mount the Haut de Cry. We started at 2.15 a.m.
in a light carriage, that brought us to the village of Ardon, distant six
miles. We there met three men that were to accompany us as local
guides. ... Wehad to go up a steep snow-field about eight hundred —
162 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

feet high. It was about one hundred and fifty feet broad at the top,
and four hundred or five hundred at the bottom. Bennen did not
seem to like the look of the snow. He asked the guides whether
avalanches ever came down this couloir, to which they answered that
our position was perfectly safe.. Having arrived at one hundred and
fifty feet from the top we began crossing. At about three-quarters
of the breadth of the couloir the two leading men sank considerably
above their waists. The snow was too deep to think of getting out
of the hole they had made, so they advanced, dividing the snow with
their bodies. This furrow was about twelve feet long, and, as the
_ snow was good on the other side, we had all come to the false con-
clusion that the snow was accidentally softer there than elsewhere.
Boissonnet advanced, and we heard a deep, cutting sound. The snow-
field split in two about fourteen or fifteen feet above us. The cleft
was at first quite narrow, not more than an inch broad. An awful
silence ensued. It lasted but a few seconds, and then it was broken
by Bennen’s voice, “ Wir sind alle verloren.” His words were slow
and solemn; they were his last. I drove my alpenstock into the snow,
and brought the weight of my body to bear on it; it went in to within
three inches of the top. I then waited. It was an awful moment of
suspense. I turned my head towards Bennen to see whether he had
done the same thing. To my astonishment I saw him turn round,
face the valley, and stretch out both arms. The ground on which
we stood began to move slowly, and I felt the uselessness of my
alpenstock. I soon sank up to my shoulders. The speed of the
avalanche increased rapidly, and before long I was covered up with
snow, and in utter darkness. I was suffocating, when with a jerk I
suddenly came to the surface again. The rope had caught. I was
on a wave of the avalanche, and saw it before me. It was the most
awful sight I ever witnessed. The head of the avalanche was pre-
ceded by a thick cloud of snow-dust, the rest of the avalanche was
clear. Around me I heard the horrid hissing of the snow, and far
























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE GREAT ALETSCH GLACIER,

LOST. 165

before me the thundering of the foremost part of the avalanche. To
prevent myself sinking again, I made use of my arms, much in the
same way as when swimming in a standing position. At last I noticed
that I was moving slower; then I saw the pieces of snow in front of
me stop at some yards distance; then the snow straight before me
stopped, and I heard on a large scale the same creaking sound that
is produced when a heavy cart passes over hard, frozen snow in
winter. I felt that I also had stopped, and instantly threw up both
arms, to protect my head in case I should again be covered up. I had
stopped, but the snow behind me was still in motion. Its pressure
on my body was so strong that I thought I should be crushed to
death. This pressure ceased as suddenly as it had begun. I was
then covered up by snow coming from behind me. My first impulse
was to try to uncover my head, but this I could not do. The
avalanche had frozen by pressure the moment it stopped, and I was
frozen in. Whilst trying vainly to move my arms I became aware
that the hands as far as the wrist had the faculty of motion. The
conclusion was easy — they must be above the snow. I set to work.
At last I saw a faint glimmer of light. The crust above my head
was getting thinner, but I could not reach it any more with my hands.
The idea struck me that I might pierce it with my breath.. After
several efforts I succeeded, and felt suddenly a rush of air toward
my mouth. After a few minutes I heard a man shouting. What a
relief it was to know that I was not the sole survivor: three others
were alive. I was at length taken out. The snow had to be cut
with the axe down to my feet before I could be pulled out. When
I was taken out of the snow the cord had to be cut. We tried the
end going toward Bennen, but could not move it. It went nearly
straight down, and showed us that there was the grave of the bravest
guide the Valais ever had. The cold had done its work; we could

stand it no longer, and began the descent. In five hours we reached
Ardon.’”
166 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“ How shocking to leave the poor man in that way!” Margaret

exclaimed.

“Jt was impossible for them to do otherwise,” Mr. Walker replied,
“and even if they could have exhumed him at once, they would have



MOTHER LOCHWALDER.



found only his lifeless body.”
“What folly mountaineering is!”
Margaret exclaimed. “No one has a

right to risk life unless for the sake

of saving life.”

As she spoke, Katchen came tow-
ard them. “Grandmother has come
back from Zermatt, and dinner is
ready. I told her there was company
and I have cooked some sausages and ~
cabbage.”

“What a pretty child!” said Mr.
Walker,

“This is my little cousin Katchen,”
Margaret replied. “Did not grand-
father tell you that we had found
my relations? They are very worthy
people, and I am very fond and proud
of them.”

To say that Mr. Walker was not
surprised to find that Margaret was

connected with such lowly peasants, would be untrue. He shook
hands, however, with Mother Lochwalder — who congratulated herself
that she had on her best clothes —and with Yakob — in his poorest —
with a simple friendliness which had nothing in it of condescension,
and accepted, with evident pleasure, the invitation to remain and
share the Judge’s loft, until they should set out upon their expedition
to Mont Blanc. Down in his heart of hearts he was very happy. He
LOST. 167

loved Margaret, but had feared that this love would bring him only
grief, for hitherto he had not dared to hope. It seemed to him that
with all her grand qualities she was haughty and unapproachable.
He saw her now in another character, stooping so sweetly to these
humble people, and he said to himself, “She has come to understand
real values; when she decides it will be from the highest motives.”

Annette returned a little later than usual that afternoon; for she
lacked Brown Velvet’s assistance in marshalling the herd. She was
surprised at not finding the pet cow in her stall, and Yakob was
equally astonished at not hearing her bell as the cattle came down
the mountain. “Have not Judge Houghton and Nikolas returned?”
Annette asked.

“Surely not. Have they not been with you all the day?”

There was great alarm in the chalet when Annette explained how
the Judge and Nikolas had gone in search of Brown Velvet, early in
the morning.

“The fairy cow has led them straight to the Mattertoma: said
Mother Lochwalder.

“Tt needed no elfin spell to do that,” said Margaret; and their
worst fears were realized when a little later the peasant arrived, bear-
ing the Judge’s cheerful missive. ;

“ We must organize a search-party at once,” said Mr. Walker.

“We shall have moonlight, and we can overtake them before
morning at the cabin,” said Yakob, “if we set out at once. You and
I will be enough to bring them back safely: let us waste no time in
geting men from Zermatt; we know well enough where they have
gone.”

He took down a coil of rope and a small pickaxe, while Mother
Lochwalder filled a flask with Kirchenwasser and trimmed a lantern.
“Hang this outside the cabin if you find them,” she said. “ We will
take the spyglass and watch from the cliff.”

Mr. Walker ran back after he had started. Margaret hurried to
168 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

meet him, thinking that he had forgotten something. He took her
hand, and said earnestly, “ When I bring your grandfather back safe, —
Miss Margaret, I shall have a request to make of you. Can you give
me the hope that you will grant it?”

“Yes, yes. Of course —anything,” Margaret replied, not com-
prehending him. “But hurry. And Nikolas. Remember, you must
bring Nikolas too.” The girl’s heart sank as she saw them go; and
she called back the old peasant who was setting out for Zermatt, and
sent a note by him to one of the best guides in the town, asking him
to get together a party of the most intrepid mountaineers to follow
Mr. Walker and Yakob. Then there was nothing to do but to wait —
the hardest task of all. The sun was setting, when, from their post
of observation, the women saw the two men begin to cross the glacier.
They had found the Judge’s trail, and followed it with happy confi-
dence. The moon had risen before the setting of the sun, and with
the aid of the glass, the three women saw their friends cross the great
white highway, — only two little black specks moving so painfully and
slowly, as it seemed to the eager watchers, though they were really
making very good time.

It will be remembered that the aie of snow, which carried the
Judge and Nikolas down the couloir, split in two against a pinnacle
of rock, and that one half swept downward to the glacier, while
the other carried the unfortunate mountaineers down a branch
couloir into a crevasse at some distance from the point at which
they began their ascent. Before Mr. Walker and Yakob had finished
crossing the glacier, they saw plainly enough that a recent avalanche
had descended the very couloir to which the track they were following
‘led. Fresh snow obliterated the footprints, and the Judge’s alpen-
stock, which had been whirled from his hand by striking against, the
pinnacle, and had followed the course of this part of the snow-slide,
lay at a little distance. The conclusion was most natural that the
Judge himself and his little guide were buried under that mass of
| LOST. 169

snow. Yakob began to dig wildly near the spot where he had found
the alpenstock. Walker strode up and down, carefully examining the
snow. for other indications, and hallooing at intervals.


































































































































































































































































































































































































































































ret saw the
pause at
the foot of
the couloir, and the wavering mo-
tion of the lantern as Mr. Walker
carried it from one side of the
avalanche to the other, and imme-
diately surmised that they had
come upon some casualty. At
the same time, Annette uttered
an exclamation, and pointed to a
line of men connected by a rope like so many beads on a rosary,
crossing the glacier lower down. “It is the rescuing party from
Zermatt,” she said; “but they do not see father and Mr. Walker,



SS
LZ

RESCUING PARTY ON THE MATTERHORN.
170 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

and are going to begin the ascent of the mountain at another point,
and will be of no help.”

“ Tf we could only at-
tract their attention by
signals of some sort,”
Margaret suggested,
“and make them un-
derstand that they are
needed in the other di-
rection.”

They lighted torches
of pine fagots, and
waved them frantically ;
but with no effect. The
human rosary wound
around the base of the
mountain, and was lost
to view. Mother Loch-
walder groaned, and
wrung her hands.

“Perhaps grand-
father and Nikolas have
really succeeded in
reaching the cabin,”
Margaret suggested;






\ RS i “ :
A A
AK f ;
PANTS.
OA

SAY «cc = S
il WA bas “i and it is all for the
a ae best that the men have
ON THE MATTERHORN. gone that way.”

“No, no!” replied

Mother Lochwalder. “ Yakob would never stop where he is now if
some dreadful accident had not happened.”

“It is all my fault,’ Margaret said penitently. “If I had only
LOST. 171

allowed Cousin Yakob to go with grandfather, he would have brought
him back safely.”

“Praise be to the Virgin, that he did not go with him,” Mother
Lochwalder replied. “If your grandfather had been lost under Ya-
kob’s guidance, our family would have been cursed indeed, It is just
what I have been dreading ever since you came, — the punishment of
the crime of one of your ancestors visited upon another. I knew the
Matterhorn would have justice done, and I have sometimes feared that
Yakob might have to pay the debt. Better so, than that two innocent
ones should perish. But I am thankful that it cannot be said that
he was the means of their destruction.” ;

“What do you mean, aunt?” Margaret asked, entirely unable to
comprehend her meaning.

“She is wild,” Annette replied. “The anxiety of this night has
crazed her. Pay no attention to what she says, she has lost her wits.”

“You speak lies, granddaughter,” replied the old woman shortly.
“My lady grand-niece has asked to know the reason why my. brother
left his native land, and lived under an assumed name in a distant
country. I will not conceal it from her any longer. Know, my child,
that your Grandfather Lochwalder was one of the best guides in the
country; but one woful day he guided a wealthy man up the Matter-
horn.”

“Well?”

“No; it was not well. The man was not experienced in moun-
taineering. He slipped, and was dashed in pieces on the rocks a
thousand feet below.” :

“ Horrible!” Margaret replied. “Poor grandfather how he must
have suffered!”

“Yes; poor man, poor man! Better have lain in the place of the
traveller, dead, in the deep ravine, for the finger of scorn was pointed
at him by every hand in the valley; and his old friends turned the
cold shoulder, and would not recognize him.”
172 - THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“Why, I think they ought to have sympathized with him in his
great misfortune.”

“ They said that they were tied together; and if the rope had held,
the stranger would have been safe; for my brother was strong and able
to brace himself like an ox, and the stranger slender and of light
weight.”

“ But if the rope broke, it surely was not erandihers fault.”

“ The rope did not break. They who found the body brought it to
the Commune. The rope was cut clean in two by the sharp blade
of a hunting-knife. They said that my brother had led the man to a
dangerous spot; and when he was pulling on the rope to help him-
self up the slippery way, the scoundrel with one gash had cut the
cord, and let him fall to his death, meaning to find and rob the body
afterward.”

“ But it was a lie, aunt; they were all liars. Cousin Yakob said my
grandfather was an honest man. It is impossible that my grandfather
could have committed such a crime. He may have been poor, but he
could not have been wicked.”

Annette laughed a cruel, bitter laugh. “Why not your grand-
father, as well as another?. Do you think that you are not also
human? Now you know something of the troubles of the poor. It
is not hunger of body or mind which is hardest to bear, but shame for
evil deeds of our own and of those we love—deeds to which you |
rich are never tempted. My great-uncle did not deliberately commit
murder for the sake of gold. The man had fallen over the side of the
precipice. The rock on which the guide stood was slippery; with one
hand he had grasped a bush, and he felt to his horror that it was
giving way. It was not possible for him to brace himself, for his feet
could gain no hold on the icy rock. It was a question whether one
man or two men should perish. He had but an instant to decide;
and—he confessed it to his sister—he did cut the rope.”

Margaret uttered a low cry. “The coward! he should have died
first!”
LOST. 176

“Tt is easy to say that,” Mother Lochwalder replied. “The poor
boy realized it himself afterward. But what can we do when our
friends choose wrongly? Only forgive them, and love them, and try
to help them bear their shame with them as best you can. When I
saw my brother grovelling on the floor before me and asking me to
kill him, I said, ‘ Brother, we must not commit two crimes. Go to a
new country and live a new life, and God will know what is best for
you here and hereafter.’ He wound the rope which he had cut about
his body under his shirt. ‘I shall wear it till my death,’ he said, ‘to
keep me from forgetting my crime.’ I packed a sack with his clothes,
and he set out by way of the Theodule Pass; but the townspeople
were watching all the roads, and they were posted there, too, and they
dragged him back to jail. He knew that he would be tried for murder
and hung, and he could not bear it. The window of his cell overlooked
a ravine; and one dark night he removed a bar and fastened one end
of the rope to the grating. Then he squeezed through the upper part
of the window and descended the rope hand over hand. When he had
reached the end he was still many feet above the ground. He was
afraid to let go, and might have swung there until he was caught, —
for you say right, he was a coward, — but the rope which had held the
poor traveller on the Matterhorn broke under my brother’s weight, and
he fell to the ground, bruised, but not badly injured. The Theodule
Pass was not guarded that night; for they thought him safe in prison.
I never saw him again, or heard from him or his until Annette, who
went away to America long after, wrote me that she had found you.”

_ The story was told, and Margaret wound her arms around Mother
Lochwalder. “You were right, dear aunt,” she said. “All we can |
do is to love. the erring, forgive and help them, and bear the conse-
quences of their sin. I accept this legacy also, and I will try to help
you bear your trouble.”

Annette looked at Margaret in a dazed way. She eote not believe
her ears. “Such goodness is not human,” she thought. “It ‘is only
174 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

the stress of this intense excitement which has brought out such a
theatrical declaration. To-morrow, when her grandfather is found, she
will shake us all off and leave us.”

Mother Lochwalder was wearied with watching and: emotion, and
Margaret led her gently inside the chalet and persuaded her to lie
down. Mother Lochwalder urged Margaret to follow her example.

“You will make yourself ill, and be of no service when they come

back,” she argued. “ You are as white as a ghost now.”
“Tam cramped with sitting still; I am wild from doing nothing,”
Margaret replied. “Iam going down to the glacier.”

“You cannot see as much there as here.”

But Margaret did not hear her. She could bear the inaction no
longer, and had hurried down the mountain-side. Annette followed,
telling herself fiercely that Margaret’s anxiety was all for her grand-
‘father, and that she cared nothing for the poor lost child.

The Zermatt glacier is impressive even in daylight. Ruskin has
best described it in this inimitable word-picture: “Higher up the ice
opens into broad white fields and furrows, hard and dry, scarcely fis-
sured at all except just under the Cervin, and forming a silent and
solemn causeway, paved, as it seems, with white marble from side to
side: broad enough for the march of an army in line of battle, but
quiet as a street of tombs in a buried. city, and bordered on each hand
by ghostly cliffs of that faint granite purple which seems, in its far-
away height, as unsubstantial as the dark ‘blue that bounds it; the
whole scene so changeless and soundless, so removed, not merely from
the presence of men, but even from their thoughts, so destitute of all
_ life of tree or herb, and so immeasurable in its lonely brightness of
majestic death, that it looks like a world from which not only the
human, but the spiritual, presences had perished, and the last of its
archangels, building the great mountains for their monuments, had
laid themselves down in the sunlight to an eternal rest, each in his
white shroud.” }
LOST. 175

As Margaret stood upon the edge of the glacier in the ghostly
moonlight, shé was almost overpowered by its awful loneliness and
sublimity. She walked a little way forward, and then a great trem-
bling seized her and she stood still. She had lost one grandfather
this night. Her ideal, chivalric grandfather, who had left Europe an
exile for the sake of his conviction, was no more. In his place she
must accept the memory of a fugitive criminal. And her own loved
Grandfather Houghton, with the boyish heart,— where was he? Sud-
denly, far off across the snow-field, she saw Mr. Walker and Yakob,
and oh, joy! between them they supported the dear old man, rescued
from a living grave. After the first wild thrill of joy she looked again
for Nikolas. He was so tiny she might well have missed him.
Surely he was following behind the rest. Annette overtook her,
and she begged her anxiously to look. “You can see better than J,
Annette. Where is Nikolas?”

“He is not with them. He must be lost.”

The three came on, with white, sad faces.

“Nikolas!” cried Margaret, “where is Nikolas?” The tears were
streaming down the Judge’s face; he could not reply, and Yakob
answered solemnly, “It is the revenge of the Matterhorn. A stranger
was killed that one of our family might live, and now Nikolas pays the
debt. God’s will be done.”

“Oh, no, no!” Margaret exclaimed. “It is not the will of our
Father in Heaven that one of these little ones should perish! You
found my grandfather. Why did you not dig further and find Cousin
Nikolas?”

“Our strength is exhausted,” Mr. Walker replied. “We could do
no more.” ;

“The other party has gone up the mountain; I will go after
them!” Margaret exclaimed.

“You are crazy!” Annette exclaimed. “Do you not see that your —
grandfather is nearly fainting, and the others are worn out? Between
176 ; THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

us, we will get him to the chAlet. What matters it if a poor deformed
dwarf is lost?” fare

“ My dear cousin, you can help grandfather. I will go to Zermatt
and get together more men, and show them where to go.”

Mr. Walker called to her, “Come back; it is of no use!” but they
could not stop her, she was running down the path that skirted the
glacier. The moon had set and the dawn was breaking gray and
chill, and she looked like a phantom of the mists. “God bless her,”
said Yakob reverently, “how she loves the boy!”

And Annette, winding her strong arm about the Judge, as she
supported him up the path toward the chalet, felt all the bitter waters
of hatred toward Margaret ebb from her heart, and a great surging
wave of love rollin. “Is there any hope?” she asked of Mr. Walker
and Yakob, who were tottering after her.

“ We found the Judge in a shallow crevasse, only partially buried,”
replied the younger man, “and we went over the entire avalanche,
thrusting our alpenstocks deep into the snow at near intervals. Noth-
ing living could exist below that depth.”

“No,” added Yakob, with a sob. “My boy is dead,—but God
bless her all the same!”
THE WAGNER FESTIVAL. 177

CHAPTER XI.
THE WAGNER FESTIVAL. BAVARIA.

‘RS. NEWTON, Alice, and Cecilia, after the departure of the

' others for the south, turned their steps toward the northeast.

By making a slight detour from the direct route to Zurich,

they could visit the celebrated abbey church of Einsiedeln ; and though

it was not yet time for the great annual pilgrimage, when a hundred

and fifty to two hundred thousand pilgrims from all parts of Europe
visit the spot, they determined to take it on their way.

The abbey is built on the summit of Mt. Etzel, in a wild, desolate
region near Lake Zurich.

Tradition states that Meinrad, a noble of the family of Hohenzollern,
about one thousand years ago, felt called upon to withdraw from the
world, and devote himself to the care of an image of the Virgin given
him by Saint Hildegarde, Abbess of Zurich. In 803 he was mur-
dered, but two pet ravens pursued the murderers to Zurich and caused
their arrest. They were executed on-a spot where now stands the
Raven Inn.

The three friends stopped at this inn, and after very simple refresh-
ment, mounted to the great monastery which now occupies the site
of Saint Meinrad’s cell.

Erberard, another count of the same family, founded this convent
here in 948, the emperor granting lands. The Bishop of Constance
was to consecrate the church, but was awakened by angelic minstrelsy
and the confirmation that the ceremony had already been performed
- by the Saviour.
17 8 ? THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

Pope Leo VIII. pronounced it a true miracle, and granted indul-
gence to all pilgrims who should visit the abbey. The spring from
which the holy hermit drank has been so conducted into a system of
water-works, and gushes from fourteen different pipes in front of the
church. The pilgrims feel it necessary to drink from each of these
pipes, a hydropathic treatment which may be beneficial for certain
disorders. Within the church they were shown the Virgin of Saint
Meinrad, an ugly doll of black wood, resembling the devotional images
so common in Spain. It was dressed gorgeously in gold brocade and
jewels, and the walls of the church were hung with votive offerings
from penitents and pilgrims. There were crutches left by the lame
who fancied that they had been healed, wax figures of deformities, for
which deliverance had been sought, and rich gifts of gold and silver
from those who asked plenary indulgence, not only for past, but for
contemplated crimes. The pope’s remission of sins is inscribed in
letters of gold over the door of the church, “ Hic est plena remissio
pecatorum a poena et a culpa,” and many a guilty soul still seeks this
shrine to roll away its weight of sin.

The reformer, Zwingli, began his preaching here, and boldly
declared at this centre of idolatry, “Christ aloze saves, and he saves
everywhere. - Do not imagine that God is in this temple more than in
any part of creation. Whatevef be the country in which you dwell,
God is around you and hears you.”

As the girls were shown the beautiful objects of the goldsmith’s
art, left as votive offerings, Cecilia uttered an exclamation of surprise.
“Only look at this, Alice,” and she pointed to a silver vinaigrette, “ it
is undoubtedly the one which the countess lost; see, it bears the
engraved crest, a mailed hand holding a firebrand.”

Mrs. Newton asked the sacristan who had given the object; but
the man could only tell that it had been donated during the previous
week, by an unknown woman who had confessed to the priest in
charge.


























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































ABBEY OF EINSIEDELN,.



THE WAGNER FESTIVAL. 181

“Tt was undoubtedly Annette,” said Cecilia. “But I am aston-
ished; for Margaret assured me that, during her long stay with her
mother, the girl has always been strictly honest. Annette never
could do the simplest thing without the greatest secrecy. I have
fancied for some time that she had something on her conscience -
which is troubling her. Doubtless, she has been here at Einsiedeln
to seek absolution for this first theft, and is now on her way to her
people. But what could have induced her to steal the thing?” Cecilia
questioned, much puzzled. It was impossible to induce the guardians
of the church property to give up the vinaigrette on their testimony ;
and the travellers continued their journey, without being able to
arrive at an explanation of the mystery.

They had left Switzerland, and with only a brief stop at St utioee
and Nuremberg, proceeded to Baireuth, where they had planned to
spend several weeks in the enjoyment of the Wagner Festival. It
was not the regular year for it; but fortunately for them, the Em-
peror. of Germany had requested a special performance of the
operas, and they, with many other tourists, would benefit by the
request. |

The friends reached Baireuth, a small town in Northern Bavaria,

in the latter part of July. The sleepy old town seems surprised by
the sudden notoriety forced upon it by the festivals which are held
here in honor of Wagner. Hundreds of visitors from every part of
the world are attracted by the musical treat. No adequate accommo-
dations are provided for them; and the townspeople incommode them-
selves, and huddle into ccrners, without furnishing the necessary room
for their guests.

eae girls walked from hee to house, and at last were obliged
to content themselves with very inconvenient quarters. If the rooms
were undesirable, they had the merit of cheapness. Frau Selig, the
honest hostess, had no idea of taking advantage of the demand for.
lodgings by charging an extortionate price. American enterprise, in
182 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

such a place, would build palatial hotels, and would make a high
percentage on the money invested.

The concerts had been in progress for two weeks, and would last
a month longer. They were held in a theatre built for the purpose,
on a hill about a mile from the town. A performance was given
three times a week. The opera of “ Parsifal,” being the favorite, was
given every week, while: the
programme for the other days
was changed frequently.

The opera played the first
afternoon after the arrival of
the three friends was “ The
Meistersinger.” Taking their
landlady’s pretty daughter, Min-
na, with them, they drove out
through the shady avenue in
the early afternoon, enjoying the
beautiful view from the summit
of the hill. The performance
began at four in the afternoon,
and continued for one hour, when
there was an intermission of an



Heit leans? hour, during which the audience

strolled in the woods at the back

of the theatre, or patronized the café, returning for the second act i

after which another hour of intermission occurred, followed by the
third and last act, the concert ending at about nine o'clock.

The girls were struck, on entering the theatre, by one marked
peculiarity. There were no lights, and the auditorium was quite dark.
This was Wagner's desire, in order that the attention of the audience
might not be distracted from the music by familiar faces, or by mag-
nificent costumes. No one attends these operas to see or to be seen,
but simply and solely for the sake of the music. |
THE WAGNER FESTIVAL. 183

For a similar reason the orchestra is sunk below the stage, that the
dark figures of the musicians may not silhouette against the foot-
lights, and the attention be drawn
by the fine bowing of a violinist,
or the energetic movements of the
conductor’s baton.

They were early, and in spite of
the dusk, Minna pointed out the dif-
ferent boxes opposite the stage.

“ Those are the Starr sisters,” said
Minna, indicating two old ladies.
“They were friends of Wagner, and
have not missed a single performance
since the festival was instituted. That
is his son Siegfried Wagner, who is
speaking with them. The central box belongs to Frau Cosima.
See! the gracious lady is taking her seat.”

“Who is Frau Cosima?”’ asked Mrs. Newton.

“Who but the widow of the great Wagner, and the daughter of
Liszt?”

“Then why is she not called Frau Wagner?”

“It is her Christian name; we call her so in loving familiarity,
just as if I were to call you by your Christian name, Lady Alice.
She is ¢he lady of this region; she was always Cosima to her hus-
band and her father, and she will always be Cosima to us. The
other boxes are occupied by royal personages, and by distinguished
musical artists. Those seats cannot be had for mere money. Hush,
the orchestra are beginning!”

All listened with rapt attention, while the most famous singers of
Germany presented even the most subordinate parts.

During the intermission they wandered through the grove, and
were surprised to find that the greater part of the audience ignored



MINNA.
184 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND. —

the café, and seemed in haste to seek the most solitary by-paths.

“You thought that Germans cared only for good things to eat, did

you not?” asked Minna. “Ah, no! we are the most sentimental

people in the world. Why is that tall man taking such long strides
over the rocks? It is that he may get away from the crowd and sit
down by himself and meditate.”

The girls sympathized with
the sentimentalist during the
first intermission, but at the
second recess, the claims of
hunger could not be disre-
garded, and they sustained
their higher natures by a visit
to the café and a liberal re-in-
forcement of pretzils and coffee.

The charm of Baireuth grew
upon Cecilia, as she lingered
under its influence; but Alice
said one morning : —

“T am beginning to tire even
of our delightful tour; I long to
get to my real work among my
dear Bulgarian girls.”

. There were tears in her
A DEVOTEE OF WAGNER. kindly eyes which were not
those of self-pity; for Alice had

become interested in Lajos for his own sake. What he had told

her of the poor miners had made her feel that he was not altogether
selfish. He had said that he wished her to visit his estates, and tell
him how he could improve the condition of his tenants; but she had
heard nothing from him since they had left Lucerne. The conclu-
sion was natural that he did not care for her, and that his philan-


THE WAGNER FESTIVAL. 185

_thropic impulse was only a momentary one, or that he was entirely
bound by his aunt’s whims. With this feeling, Alice put Lajos

resolutely from her thoughts, and forced
herself to be interested in the musical
festival.
They had been in Baireuth a little
over a week before she attended the
opera of “ Parsifal,” which is generally
conceded to be Wagner’s masterpiece.
Alice had been prejudiced against Wag-

ner’s music, but with Cecilia at her side.

to explain, the noble moral purpose of
this work opened before her, and she
understood the grandeur of conception
and the elevation of soul which must

have stood behind such a composition.



LISTENING TO ‘‘ PARSIFAL,” NO. I.

Not only was the poetry

itself dignified in form and of high order technically,—and this she



LISTENING TO “‘PARSIFAL,’ NO. 2.

had not expected, as Wagner’s fame as a
musical composer overshadows that which
he might have won as an author, —
but the old myth of the Holy Grail was
ennobled in its elaboration in a manner
quite worthy of Tennyson. The plot of
“ Parsifal” reminded the girls of the
“Tdyls of the King” and the other Ar-
thurian legends; for curiously enough
the same traditions of Arthur’s court
and his knights of the Table Round
exist in Germany, and like the English
legends, have a Breton origin. The

grail was a chalice of chrysolite which Christ is supposed to have
used at his last supper with his disciples. It was the favorite quest
186 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

of the knights of Arthur's court, but only he whose heart was pure
could succeed.

During the intermission between the second and third acts Alice
and Cecilia followed the general custom in strolling through the grove
at the back of the theatre. This is a favorite resort for people from
Baireuth, and is frequented by many who do not attend the operas. —
Seeing so many persons walking about, the girls, who had not hap-
pened to hear the trumpet signal which announced the opening of
each act, did not realize the flight of time, and found when they
returned to the theatre that the performance had begun. They were
not allowed to disturb the audience by passing down the aisle to their
seats, and the usher could only find a chair for Cecilia, so that Alice
found herself standing alone at the back of the darkened auditorium.
Presently a gentleman in the next row became aware that a lady was
standing, and politely offered her his seat. Alice demurred, but in
the midst of her hesitation found herself placed in the seat with gentle
firmness. It was Lajos, beaming with a delight which seemed actually
_ to illuminate his features. “This poor Parsifal has found his grail at
last,” he said with a joyful earnestness which gave the low-spoken
words a double and personal meaning.

He stood behind her throughout the remainder of the act, bending -
once to take the opera-glass which she handed him, and keeping a
firm, steady hold of her hand until the falling of the curtain.

Alice knew from that quiet hand-clasp that all her doubts and
fears had been groundless; her knight had been wandering in no ~
palace of Klingsor.

After the close of the performance he led ne to his aunt, who had
a better seat nearer the front. Having just arrived, Lajos had been
obliged to content himself with what he could obtain, and the happy
chance had occasioned their meeting. “I would have found you in
any case,” he said afterward, “if I had found it necessary to search
from door to door.”
THE WAGNER FESTIVAL. 187

The countess received Alice graciously, and inquired where they
were staying. “I shall call on your mother to-morrow,” she said, “to
make arrangements for our journey down the Danube, which I trust,
we can make in company.”

“ There are delightful rides to be made on horseback in the vicinity
of Baireuth,” said Lajos. “Have you seen the ruined castle of Stein
in the Fichtelgebirge? Can we not make up a riding-party for
to-morrow? Your mother and my aunt can be driven in an open
carriage, and we can be their outriders.”

This plan was adopted with acclaim ; but
on the following morning Cecilia found her-
self suffering from headache, and could not
be induced to accompany the party. It was
to be an all-day’s excursion, and. Frau Selig’s
stout hand-maidens lifted a well-filled lunch ;



hamper into the carriage. Alice, in a hand-
some green cloth riding-suit, and Lajos, in Eee
an Austrian riding-costume, mounted on
spirited but gentle horses, led the way. They picknicked in the pine
woods, and crossing a spur of the Ochsenkopf, returned toward even-
ing by another route. It was a charming éxcursion; but they made
no attempt to climb to the “ Bake Oven,” the hut erected by the Ger-
man Alpine Club on the summit of the Schneeberg; nor were they
greatly interested in the enchanting views of Franconian Switzerland,
which opened to them at intervals; nor in the fantastic legends which
Richter found in this delightful region; and yet they had much to
talk of, and the long ride through the shady forest seemed a very
short one.
When mother and daughter joined each other in their own room,
there were tears in Mrs. Newton’s gentle eyes.
“The countess has proposed for your hand for her nephew,” she
said. “This is no surprise to you, my daughter?”
188 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“Lajos has explained everything,” Alice replied. “He did not
feel at Lucerne that he was free to ask any one to be his wife. Even
now he does not know whether he offers me the hand of a compara-
tively poor man, or that of the owner of the mines. If a young
lady to whom he was betrothed in childhood by his aunt and uncle,
and whom he has never seen, is found before the fifth of August, he
must either marry her —and this he says he will never do — or give up

all his fortune. It is all so strange!
Hata Did the countess tell you about it?”

“Yes, my dear; and I assured her
that I would be better pleased if Lajos
were not wealthy, and your fortunes
were more equal.”

“But in that case he would not
be able to benefit these poor people,
for whose welfare he is so much
concerned.” ;

“The countess ‘tells me that there
is no longer any probability of any
claimant appearing,” said Mrs. New-
ton. “Long ago she exchanged a
pledge with a dear friend, that the
children in whom they were most in-
terested should marry; but the friend died, and the niece has never
been heard from, though search has been made for her in Europe
and America. She will probably never appear, and her little fortune
will remain in Lajos’s care, its income legally at his disposal.”

“And as long as it rests in this way he can use the income for _
the poor miners. It is this that reconciles me to the giving up of
my work in Bulgaria. The Board can find some one else to take ©
my place there, but there is no one interested to send a missionary
to these poor Magyar miners. Lajos says I can go on with the



ON THE FICHTELGEBIRGE.
THE WAGNER FESTIVAL. 189

same work that I have been doing; it will only be a change of scene
to people a little more forlorn and forgotten’ of the world.”

“You will have an opportunity to see them soon, for the countess
desires us to visit with her. She wished the marriage to take place at
her chateau; but it seemed to me better that you should proceed to
your mission, and take charge there until some one can be secured
to take your place. I think I might take it, Alice, if the Board would
accept me. I am not so young as you, but I am vigorous, and can
look forward to twenty years more of active service.”

“Dear mother, Lajos wishes you to make your home with us.”

“Not at first, dear. I shall come to you when I can no longer be
useful at the mission; but I shall be happier to feel that I have still
my own work in the world; and it will be better for you to grow to
understand one another without me. I shall be very near, you know,
just over the border, and can go to you, or you can come to me, when-
ever we need each other.”

Mrs. Newton was very firm, and this plan was accordingly agreed
upon. It seemed to her wise heart that the countess formed an ele-
ment of sufficient difficulty in the new household without complicating
it by the addition of another outsider. But the whimsical countess
seemed to have transferred the affection which she had formerly shown
to Margaret to Alice. Any mention of Margaret would bring out a
tirade against low-born peasants, and she would assert positively that
there had always been something common about Margaret, in spite of
her attractive qualities. .

“Ze blood will tell,’ she remarked sententiously. “She have ze
sprightliness of foots of a chamois. Zat come from her ancestors, who
have been long climbers of. ze Alps. When she wear ze peasant cos-
tume, did I not say to her, it is more becoming to you as to ze uzzers,
you wear it as if you have been use to it for always?”

This was undeniable; but Alice was somewhat astonished by her
next assertion, that Margaret’s inability to do anything at the time
Igo THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

when Alice had saved the countess’s life had convinced her that Mar-
garet was only a trifling butterfly, while there was something grandly
noble in Alice, which was well worthy of confidence and affection.

“T see many a trial for you in the fickleness of the countess,” Mrs.
Newton remarked to her daughter.

“ There are trials everywhere,” Alice replied, “and Lajos, at least,
is not fickle.” The happy confidence with which she said this told
how perfect was her trust. But Lajos had not yet undergone the final
test of his affection; at least so said pretty Minna Selig, who, dressed
as a Hungarian gypsy, told his fortune in a Dresden tea-cup a few
nights before they left Baireuth.

“ Beware,” she said in sport, “a dark, tall woman who is coming to
make trouble between you. She. is your Fate, the final test of con-
stancy. If your engagement survive her appearing, all will be well.”

There was much merry joking after this dismal fortune, and during
their remaining stay every tall, mysterious-looking stranger was laugh-
ingly called the Fate; but before the close of the musical festival,
' Mrs. Newton and Alice, the countess and Lajos, left Baireuth in
company to sail down the Danube to the old chateau in the Car-
pathians.

The betrothal had so filled the minds of both Alice and Cecilia
that it was not until the day before she left that it occurred to Alice
to mention the vinaigrette which they had seen at Einsiedeln. The
countess agreed with them that it was very mysterious.

“TI care for zat vinaigrette more especially,” she said, “for because
it is ze only souvenir I have of my tear friend, Margaret Du Fais.
She gave it to me ze day we make our scheme for Lajos and her
niece. ‘Keep it, my tear, she say, ‘and when you shall see it, you
shall sink of zis petrothal. 1 have kept it all zese year, and when
I lose it I say to myself, It is a sign that my tear friend absolve me
from zat promise. I shall see it no longer, zerefore I shall sink no
more again to find her niece for Lajos. I am glad ze vinaigrette is
THE WAGNER FESTIVAL. IgI

in a shrine of sacred objects. It was already sacred wiz me. I
could not sink it in ze window of ze pawnproker.”

And so they went away, all smiling and happy, not realizing that
Lajos’s test was all the time steadily approaching. Cecilia lingered in
Baireuth. She enjoyed the musical atmosphere of the town, and she
intended to remain here until it was time to join Margaret at’ the
Féte of the Vignerons at Vevey. One day, as Cecilia was taking her
morning walk, she noticed a tall, angular woman approaching from
the railroad station. “If Lajos were here,” she thought, “we would
all say, ‘There is your Fate.” Something familiar in the figure
struck her, and she looked again. It was Annette Stauffer.
192 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

CHAPTER XIL
THE FAIRY COW.

5S Margaret sped on through the gathering mists, it seemed to
. her that she heard, across the glacier, the faint tinkle of a silver
bell. Was it Brown Velvet? Very likely; but she had no time

to investigate the sound; she reached Zermatt much exhausted.

The most experienced mountaineers had gone up the Matterhorn,
but another party of peasants was quickly formed. While they were
preparing shovels, picks, and ropes, a thoughtful woman brought
Margaret a bowl of hot coffee, and a mule was found on which she
rode back with the rescuers. She showed them the trail across the
glacier to the avalanche, and then mounted to the chalet, falling into
Annette’s arms in a dead faint; from utter exhaustion, as she reached
the door.

When she came to herself she was lying on Mother Lochwalder’s
feather-bed, and the noonday sun was shining across the floor. Mr.
Walker lay on the hay in the opposite corner sleeping soundly.
Yakob sat in an attitude of great dejection beside the table. Mother
Lochwalder was stirring something over the fire. She came to the
bedside a few moments later with a bowl of soup. “ Have they come
back?” Margaret asked. |

The old woman nodded, her face working frightfully.

It was needless to ask anything further, and Margaret drew the
poor, bereaved woman down beside her. After a few moments, she
rose and asked for her grandfather.

“ He is in bed,” said Mother Lochwalder, “and doing well.”
THE FAIRY COW. 193

Margaret stole up to the loft, but finding the Judge sleeping peace-
_ fully did not disturb him. As she came down the ladder, she saw that
Yakob Lochwalder stood just outside the door and that he beckoned
to her. She walked with him out to her favorite seat.

“Annette asked me to give you this,” said Yakob, taking a letter
from his pocket.

“Where is Annette?” asked Margaret.

“She has gone away.”

“Gone away! where?” —

“J. don’t know. When the men that you got together came back
and said there was no hope, Annette went into one of her queer fits,
and said that she must go away, but would come back after a while, and
she wrote this letter and told me to give it to you. Annette is a
strange girl, but she loved her little cousin, and his loss has nearly
crazed her. She cannot bear to stay here, I suppose. I can under-
stand the feeling.”

“When did she go see

“Only an hour ago. She must be in Zermatt now waiting for the
diligence to Visp.” |

Margaret began to tear open the letter, when her eye was caught
by the words, “ Not to be opened until I am far away.” Margaret was
too honorable not to regard the request, and her hand slipped down-
ward to place the letter in-her pocket.

Instinctively, at the same time her gaze turned toward the glacier.
A little lower than the spot where the fateful accident occurred, it
seemed to her that she saw a dark speck upon the shining whiteness.
As she looked at it more attentively, she was positive that it moved.
She dropped the letter and caught Yakob’s arm. His eyes were
better than hers. “It is a cow,” he said; “how could she have crossed
the ice-field?” Margaret told him of the sound of the bell which she
had heard the night before, and Yakob hurried to the chalet for the
telescope. After a long, earnest gaze, he handed the glass to Marga-
194 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

ret. “It is Brown Velvet,” he said; “I suspected it. Now does it not
seem as if she must be a fairy cow? For in the first, how could she
have reached the point where she is without wings? and then, why
should she want to go there at all unless it is to seek the Paradise on
the Matterhorn? All the same, I am going after her; she is too
good a cow to lose.”

“ You are too weary.”

“No, I have rested; and I cannot bear sitting still and doing
nothing. I cannot even dig my poor boy’s grave.”

He rose heavily, and went into the chalet for his alpenstock, axe,
and rope, and calling the dog, went down the path. Mt. Walker came
from the chalet with him, and came toward Margaret.

“ Are you rested?” she asked.

“Perfectly,” he replied seriously; “but my mind is not at rest.
You will remember that I told you that if ‘ brought your ¢g grandfather
back, I should have something to ask you.”

A sudden comprehension of what he meant swept over Margaret.

“Oh, no, not now!” she cried.

“ But you promised to listen to me, Margaret.”

“Tf you brought Nikolas, too.”

He made a despairing gesture. “And, since that is impossible, I
am to go away, and never come back?”

“] did not say that. But this poor family is in ach trouble, that
it is wicked for us to be happy.”

He sprung toward her, with a great light on his face; but she
avoided him. “I mean it is wicked for us to think of ourselves now.
Yes, I do want yen to go ay for the present, and, meantime, think
of Cecilia’s song.”

Again he strode toward hen put Margaret was half-way to te
chalet, and Mother Lochwalder dcod in the door. He could only ask
the old woman for his knapsack, and take his leave.

Margaret went to her grandfather; he, too, was awake and well, but
THE FAIRY COW. 195

much shaken by his experience, and thoroughly cured of his desire to
climb the Matterhorn. He descended to the living-room, partook of
some supper, and watched Mother Lochwalder and Katchen while
they brought the cows in from the main pasture, and performed the
evening milking. Margaret set the chalet in order, and came and sat
beside her grandfather. They were both thinking of Nikolas. Should
they never see the elfish little fellow again, seated among the cattle in
the pasture, making his grotesque, whimsical faces, or playing delight-
edly upon the zither? ;

Suddenly a sweet, low tone thrilled through the quiet, like the
vagrant harmonies which he loved to waken. Margaret looked about
her furtively. There was no one in sight, and yet the weird music
was very real and near. Was it indeed true that the spirits of Zer-
matt peasants lingered after death near their old homes, loth to leave
the pleasant pastures even for Paradise? A moment’s search revealed
the source of the strange sounds. It was really the zither, with which
Katchen had propped open the window, and the evening breeze was
playing upon it as on an zolian harp. Margaret sighed, when she
made the discovery. It was sweet to think that Nikolas was near.

He was nearer than she thought. When the cake of snow on
which the Judge and Nikolas were carried down the couloir split in
two against the rocky buttress, they were carried in different direc-
tions, —the Judge, to the glacier, down the path up which they had
climbed; and Nikolas, lower down into a ravine in the mountain
leading to a crevasse between the mountain and the glacier. The
snow beneath him broke his fall. The snow that followed partially
buried him; but the boy struggled to the surface, in no way injured
by his adventure. He wandered down the long, narrow ravine to
the crevasse, whose steep sides were formed on the one hand by a
wall of rock, and on the other by one of ice. He walked along it
for fully a quarter of a mile, but could find no way of mounting to
the surface. If he had had his pick, he could easily have cut steps
196 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND,

in the perpendicular wall; but unfortunately he had nothing with
which to dig, not even a jack-knife. Night came quickly, and although
it was midsummer, the icy wall made the ravine, wide as it was, very’
cold. To keep off the deadly chill, he spent the entire night walk-
ing up and down the ravine. He shouted at intervals, but he was
too far away from the rescuers to be heard. How long the night
seemed! The moon looked down upon him, and he sang ‘and chat-
tered to her, —scolding her at first, for her indifference to his misfor-
tune, and finally beseeching her to help him. But the moon gave
him no help beyond lighting him over the rough places, and giving
him a feeling of companionship. Toward morning, even she saahdrege
and there were several hours of darkness, which gradually brightened,
through murky mists, into a cold, gray dawn. To keep his heart
up, in this most dismal part of his experience, he yodelled cheerily to
the lady moon, with the childish hope that he might lure her back.

Evidently the moon did not hear him; but there was a friend who
caught the faint sound of the distant yodel, and who made her way
painfully across the glacier toward him. That friend was Brown
Velvet. Margaret heard her bell as she started on her trip, but she
did not hear the call which had attracted the faithful animal. When
the sun rose, Nikolas, who was slapping his arm across his chest, and
stamping his half-frozen feet, heard the musical tinkle of the silver
bell, and looking up, saw the cow looking down wistfully at him.
The sight revived his sinking courage. He sang and danced, and
talked to her most affectionately.

“Good Brown Velvet; dear, beautiful, wise Brown Velvet; unfold
your butterfly wings, and float down into the crevasse, and bear me
up to the Paradise on the Matterhorn. You see that I am dead and
buried, Brown Velvet.”

The cow continued to regard him plaintively with her great
gazelle-like eyes.

“Ah! I see, then, that [ cannot be dead; for it is only dead
LZ LE
ME. hip
2 OLA MYO,
Uy I ifs y
SY MN

EG i
WG LLLE MI. Zi oss
] YG Mea
7 i; Le ? at “if

Uy
SQ) GAGE
SO Lez
Ube, yn

4

hi



ee
SS CPG

Z wee
SS <=
s Se SS Se

NIKOLAS.



THE FAIRY COW. 199

people that go to Paradise. Then, Brown Velvet, go back to the
Alm, and tell the people to come and fetch me.”

The cow lowed as though striving to call the boy’s friends, but did
not leave him.

“T am hungry, Brown Velvet. I wish you were. near enough for
me to milk you. Ah! I had forgotten; here is the rest of the hare
safe inside my blouse. It will make a
good breakfast. I wish I could give you
some.” Nikolas improvidently devoured
his entire provision, and somewhat re-
freshed, set himself to walking again, the
cow following him along the edge of
the crevasse. All day long he wandered,
fruitlessly striving to extricate himself
from his predicament. He managed
about noon, with a sharp stone, to cut
some steps in the ice, and mounted
nearly to the surface, but fell back and
twisted his ankle, so that he could walk
no longer. He was ready for dinner
now, and so was Brown Velvet. She had
drunk a little melted snow water, but
had begun to think regretfully of the
pastures and fodder-rack of the Alm. A PEASANT OF ZERMATT.
She turned, and Nikolas heard her bell
tinkling off into the distance. It seemed to him that he had lost
his last friend, and he yodelled loudly. The cow, true to her training,
returned, but wandered restlessly about the spot. -Nikolas knew that
he could not live through another night in the ravine now that he was
deprived of the power of keeping himself warm by walking. He
wondered, too, how he was to provide himself with dinner or supper,
and regretted his greediness of the morning. He remembered one


200 THREE VASSAR GIRLS. IN SWITZERLAND.

of his father’s fabulous hunting stories of how a chamois hunter
had fallen into an abyss so deep that it was impossible to find ropes
long enough to pull him out; and his true love came every morning
and threw provisions down to him, and continued her ministrations
until her lover died of old age.

His ankle was swelling, and he wrapped it in snow, and then,
dragging himself back into the ravine as far from the glacier as
possible, tried to dig a little cave for himself in the mountain side,
where the stony wall was crumbling, but soon found that this was
useless. Some crows sailed over far up in the blue, and he wished
hungrily that he had his father’s gun, that he might bring one down
for supper. His strength and courage were ebbing fast, and he tried
to repeat his little evening prayer, but could only remember the first

two lines:
QO, Jesu mein, ganz bin ich dein

Im Leben und im Sterben.

It seemed to him that he heard his father calling the cows and singing
a stanza of the familiar “ Ranz des Vaches.”. It was no dream; for
Brown Velvet heard it,too, and frisked away from the brink of the
crevasse. He tried to yodel, but the sound died in his throat in a
hoarse gurgle, and he lost all consciousness.

Yakob had only come part way across the glacier, and had then ~
sent the dog to drive Brown Velvet to him as he’stood calling her.
The dog obeyed his bidding, frisking about the cow in wide circles
and driving her toward his master. In one of these circles he looked
down into the crevasse and spied Nikolas. Instantly the intelligent
creature stood still and barked to attract his master’s attention. But
Yakob was weary, and thinking that the dog was attracted by some
wild creature, paid no attention to him and proceeded to drive Brown
Velvet toward the chalet. When he had almost reached the side of
the glacier he saw Mr. Walker coming toward him.

“You are going to leave us?” he asked.
THE FAIRY COW. 201

“For a time; but I will come again and take charge of Judge
Houghton. Don’t let him make any excursions in my absence.”

“No fear of that; he has had enough,—and I, too.” He turned
and whistled to his dog, to hide his emotion. “What ails the beast?
I believe he is bewitched. If I had not this cow to attend to I would
go over and bring him baek in my arms,
lame as I am from our tramp.”

“Wait a few minutes, and I will get
him.”

- Yakob did not say “I ahaa you,”, but
he looked it; and Mr. Walker sprang
cheerily over the ice, never feeling the
ache of strained muscles for the great
joy which filled his heart. He called
the dog, as he approached, but the ani-
mal only danced about and whined. He
tried to catch him, but he would not be
caught, snapping at him viciously when
his hand was almost on him. At last
he began to wonder what made the ani- :
mal act so strangely. “Perhaps there . “= a nahh



is something in the crevasse,” and peer- A PEASANT WOMAN OF THE
ing over the edge he, too, discovered — ' ZERMATT VALLEY.
Nikolas! Then what a cheer he sent
ringing through the air! Yakob understood it. There could be but
one meaning to such a triimphant shout; and Yakob gazed at him for
a moment, his face transfigured with joy, then forgetting his stiff joints
and weariness, and crying, “‘ My boy, my boy!” came leaping across
the glacier. .

Mr. Walker looked again at Nikolas, and his heart misgave him.
“Is he dead ?.” he thought; “are we too late?” He walked up and
down the edge of the glacier, looking for a way of descent, but soon
202 ; THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

saw that there was none. He called to Nikolas, but the boy did not
rouse; and there was his father coming toward them so joyfully. He
could have bitten his tongue for shouting, and os ae he could
not reach the boy.

Yakob reached him and looked over he one te expression of
eager hope changing at once to terrified anxiety. “I have my rope
with me,” he said. “You must lower me into the crevasse.”

“You are too heavy,” Mr. Walker replied. “I could never hold

”

you.

“True. Then I will lower, you— quick!”

Yakob attached the rope, and bracing himself carefully, let Mr.
Walker down into the ravine. The young man took up Nikolas, and
fastened the rope about him, and Yakob drew his son out of the.
crevasse. He was so absorbed in bringing the boy to consciousness’
that he quite forgot that Mr. Walker was still below, and was setting
out for home, when he was recalled by a rather impatient shout from
the crevasse. He returned quickly, and a moment later Mr. Walker
was on the surface. “He is alive!” Yakob exclaimed; “but I must
get him @ the chalet « as quickly as possible. We were not a moment
too soon.”

Yakob carried his son across the glacier, but at this point his
strength gave out, and Mr. Walker bore him up the mountain side
to the chalet. It was a strange but joyful little procession which Mar-
garet saw coming as she stepped out-into the moonlight for a last view
of the valley before retiring. First the good dog, barking loudly, as -
though he wished to inform the family of the good tidings, then Mr.
Walker with Nikolas in his arms, after him Yakob limping along with.
the assistance of his alpenstock, and last of all the fairy cow, quite.
tired of her escapade, and following willingly to her manger.

“T have brought him,” Mr. Walker exclaimed, as he laid Nikolas in
Margaret’s arms, “and now I claim your PSHDeson to speak — I must
not be put off any longer.”
THE FAIRY COW. 203,

“No longer, dear friend,” Margaret replied. “It is a night of joy
for all of us.”

But Mr. Walker did not rest even now. He saw that the exposure
to which Nikolas had been subjected had rendered his condition
critical, and though nearly worn out by his exertions, he returned
to Zermatt for a physician. Fortunately an eminent English sur-
geon was stopping at one of the hotels, and ordering Walker to bed,
he grasped his case of instruments and set out at once for the
chalet.

With the exception of badly frozen ears, Nikolas’s injuries were
found to be slight. When the surgeon had skilfully amputated these
enormous deformities, Margaret was surprised to find how the face
gained. His long locks would cover the cropping, and the other fea-
tures had always been good, but he had been in the habit of distorting
them with hideous grimaces. Lately, however, a more intellectual
expression had come into his face, and as the boy lay sleeping peace-
fully, Margaret foresaw that it would develop into something very like
beauty. He would always be fezzze, but his only deformity now was
the twisted ankle, and this the surgeon was sure could be straightened.

Mother Lochwalder and Yakob were full of happiness and grati-
tude, and were willing to entrust Katchen and Nikolas entirely to
Margaret. She accordingly decided that as soon as the Judge and |
Nikolas were able to travel she would proceed with them and with
Katchen to Vevey. Mr. Walker persuaded them to go by way of
Mont Blanc, and to reach this point by a little tour into Italy. The
“recovery was so rapid that in ten days’ time they were ready to
set out, and the Judge, Margaret, and Mr. es: took their last view
from the favorite lookout.

' Just before leaving Margaret remembered Annette’s letter. “I
must have left. it on my lookout just as we discovered Brown Velvet
on the glacier.”

She went in search with Katchen, but could find no trace of it,

\
204 é THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

until Katchen cried, “Brown Velvet is munching something over
there in the pasture.”

The child ran to her and pulled a piece of paper from between her
teeth. It was torn and faded; they could just make out that it was
Annette’s letter, but that was all. Her confession was quite illegible,
and Margaret left the Alm, bidding a regretful farewell to Mother
Lochwalder, her dear aunt, as she still thought her. Yakob, who had
already suggested this trip, went with them as guide as far as Aosta. |


THE GREAT ST. BERNARD AND MONT BLANC. 205

CHAPTER XIII.
THE GREAT ST. BERNARD AND MONT BLANC.

Long could I have stood

With a religious awe, contemplating

That house, the highest in the ancient world,
And destined to perform from age to age
The noblest service, welcoming as guests

All of all nations and of every faith —

A temple sacred to humanity!

Mont Blanc is the monarch of mountains,
They crowned him long ago,

On a throne of rock in a robe of clouds,
With a diadem of snow.

HE party made the excursion on mule-back by way of the Pass

al of St. Theodule to the village of Breuil, and thence up the Val

de Tournache to Chatillon, where they spent the night. All

the way they had magnificent views of the Matterhorn and the Italian

ranges. The Judge bore the journey in its easy stages very well, and

to Nikolas the widening of his horizon seemed and was the opening
of a new life.

At Aosta Yakob bade ae farewell with tears in his honest eyes,
and returned with the mules to Zermatt.

The valley of Aosta is justly celebrated for its beautiful scenery,
Mont Blanc rising grandly in the north. Cheever says of it, “I have
seen Mont Blanc from all the best points of view, with every advan-
_ tage; but all taken together, no other view is to be compared for its
magnificence with this in the Val d’Aoste.” ;

Margaret came to the conclusion that there were so aay sublime
206 _ THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

and beautiful views among the Alps that comparison was impossible.
She could not tell whether the Jungfrau and her wonderful brothers,
Monte Rosa, the Matterhorn, or Mont Blanc were the more admirable.
She would not rank them, as her grandfather did, according to their
height, —

Mont Blanc . . ; ; fee . : . 15,784 feet.

Monte Rosa . Me Nunes : : hae eee en emelise oD ORT Ce Ls
The Dom . : ; ; : : : : . 14,935 feet.
Lyskam f : : : . : : ; . 14,889 feet.
Weisshorn .. : fea : 5 : ; . 14,804 feet.
Matterhorn . : k i s ; : ; . 14,705 feet.
Finsetraarhorn =. d Dike dey. : : : . 14,039 feet.
Aletschhorn . cauliee ten ae : : . . 13,803 feet.
Breithorn : 3 ee Sesabaegac oN OSh eee
Jungfrau oe : 5 : : : : . 13,671 feet.

It was nothing to her that the Jungfrau stood last in this list of
high peaks, and that the Rigi was only 5,905 feet in height, a mere
mole-hill in the catalogue. She remembered the mountains by the
sensations which they had awakened; and according to this scale the
Jungfrau stood first for beauty, and a Matterhorn for terror. Mont
Blanc lifted itself now, a monument of solemn thanksgiving and
consecration. She could not forget that she had just received her
own back from the dead, and that she rode along this beautiful valley
in the first days of her betrothal, her life crowned by one of the richest
gifts this world can give—a good man’s love. Livingston Walker
shared the same sentiment of awe. His happiness seemed too great
to be true; and often, as his gaze rested on Margaret, there were
happy tears in his eyes. The Judge had given his blessing; and
although the engagement was referred for its final seal to Margaret’s
parents, there was no question as to what their answer would be. It
would be a long engagement, for he had his way to make in the world.
And Margaret knew that the adoption of the two Lochwalder children
THE GREAT ST. BERNARD AND MONT BLANC. 207

would make such heavy draughts on her own liberal allowance that
her wedding day must be postponed in consequence. But she did not
hesitate, nor did her betrothed disapprove the generous action. “It
is not generosity at all,” Margaret had insisted, “but simple justice,
for they are my own family.”

And so to both these young people Mont Blanc was the “monarch
of mountains,” not because it was the highest in Europe, or because
the views in its vicinity greatly excelled those of the Jungfrau, the
Matterhorn, or the Aletschhorn, from the great glacier where Walker
had recently been wandering, but because he had no joy in his heart
to keep it warm in that great sepulchral chamber, and because Mar-
_garet viewed this scene with infinitely greater elevation of feeling
than she had hitherto experienced.
~ They rested for a day at Aosta, and examined its Roman ruins, —
an amphitheatre and a triumphal arch, —for it is a very ancient city,
rebuilt by the Emperor Augustus, who stationed here three thousand
soldiers, and its name is a corruption of Augusta.

St. Bernard was archdeacon of the cathedral of this city, but left
the charming valley, in the year 962, to found the hospice in the cruel
mountain pass, for the succor of travellers who, without this shelter,
would not infrequently perish in the storms.

This was their next objective point; and here they were hospitably
“entertained by the monks. Few realize what it is to live always
among the snows ; for even in summer, water always freezes here in
the morning; and in the winter the roads are covered with enormous
drifts, sometimes forty feet in depth. Ten or twelve of the brethren
of St. Augustine remain here, isolated from the rest of the world,
through the dreary winter season. They are all young men, selected
for their physical powers; but pneumonia and consumption frequently
fasten upon them, and they do not live out the period of their vow,
which is fifteen years. Their labors are arduous, and necessitate their
going out in all weather. There is a shelter lower down upon the
208 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

road, where belated travellers frequently take refuge, and the monks
visit it with their dogs every morning, and bring any one whom they
may find to the convent. A grave young man of eighteen, who had
recently taken the vow, showed our travellers the buildings, and
explained everything. The hospice is of gray stone, very solid, but
bare, and suggesting a penitentiary. The young monk showed them
into the parlor, where there was a piano given by the Prince of
Wales, and a harmonium, by the composer Blumenthal. This was
the first good piano that Nikolas had seen; and he pounced upon it
like a bird of prey upon a lamb, and could with difficulty be dragged
from it.

“T am glad,” said Margaret ‘to the monk, “that you have such
a good collection of books with which to while away the weary
hours.” |

The young man smiled. “The hours are indeed weary,’ he ©
replied; “but not from lack of employment. Besides the work of the
house, and the care of our dogs, cows, and mules, the search for
the lost, and the entertainment of guests —a never-failing occupation
during summer— is the cutting of wood. The difficulty of trans-
portation renders fuel expensive; and we lay in vast stores of fagots,
of wood, and of hay, for the winter consumption.”

The mention of dogs reminded them of one of the chief attractions
of the convent; and they were taken to the kennels, and shown the
noble animals who assist the monks in their searches. In 1830 the
dogs all perished in a terrific storm, and the breed would have become
extinct but for the fact that a pack had been sent to Hollingen, near
Berne, which was now returned to the hospice. The monk told them
many interesting anecdotes of the sagacity of these dogs, —some of
them are occasionally sent out alone, with a little flask of cordial
attached to their collars. He said that they showed great uneasiness
when the weather was stormy, as though anxious to be sent. When
they find an unfortunate they bark loudly, and if not heard, will clear
























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE GREAT ST. BERNARD. *

THE GREAT ST. BERNARD AND-MONT BLANC. 21

the snow from him, and then run back, and by their capering and
intelligent actions make themselves understood. The most famous
of the St. Bernard dogs was Barry, who rescued forty persons. On
one occasion he discovered a little boy, whose mother had been killed
by an avalanche, and inducing the little fellow to mount on his back,
carried him triumphantly to the convent. The monk told them that
this dog, after dying of old age, had been stuffed, and was to be seen
at the museum of Berne.

The Judge strongly desired to Bene away a pup with him to
America, but after considering the matter, decided that the animal
would probably be more useful at the hospice than at a New York
mansion. “Nikolas and Katchen are pets enough,” he said to Mar-
garet. ‘I must help you in the maintenance of those children, and
I will give up the idea of a St. Bernard dog.”

“ How many guests can you entertain?” he asked of the monk, his
lecture note-book in hand.

“The hospice has eighty beds,” the monk replied, “but we have
sheltered as many as five hundred persons in one day, and entertain
annually from eight to nine thousand. The heaviest work of the
convent was done at the time that Napoleon crossed the Alps in his
forced march in May, 1800.”

“T have heard that the convent is very Pica in estates ord
through Switzerland.”

“It was so formerly. In 1480 it was at the height of its prosperity,
for it owned ninety-eight livings. Now it possesses only a vineyard
at ‘Clarens and a farm at Roch.”

The monk next asked them if they would like to visit the morgue,
where the bodies of such travellers as are found frozen to death are
kept subject to the identification of their friends.

_ Margaret declined this invitation and remained in the parlor with
the children, but the Judge and Mr. Walker visited the melancholy
building. Here were many bodies preserved by the cold, dry air; a
212 THREE VASSAR GIRLS [N SWITZERLAND.

mother’ still clasping her babe to her bosom, a strong man with a
terrible expression of suffering frozen upon his features, and many,
others, some crumbling to bone and dust, and others more or less
perfect after the lapse of many years.

After a comfortable night’s rest our friends panced on their way,
the Judge leaving a handsome gratuity in recognition of the hospi-
tality received, and the noble work done for humanity by the monks |
of St. Bernard.

“Tf anybody had told me,” he said, as they rode away, “that I, a
member of the Presbyterian Church, in good and regular standing,
would contribute to the support of a popeh: monastery, I would De
thought that either he or I had gone insane,’

As they emerged from the pass into the Rhone Valley, they were
reminded of Dr. Bartol’s remarks on the Pass of St.’ Bernard : —

“In this as in the other passes, one is struck with the thought that
God never builds: up in the world an insuperable wall, but provides
everywhere for his creatures an exit, some way of escape. Wide and
deep from the valley of the Rhone opens the solemn door of the pass
as for an army. to march along.

“The Pass of. the Spliigen stands alone in the ghastly grandeur of
the Via Mala, or Evil Way, where, betwixt opposing precipices, in
some places nearly a third of a mile in height and often only a few
yards apart, extending through a space of more than four miles, the
most wonderful engineering has built a road along gulfs which it
might be thought possible to span with nothing larger than a thread
in the mouth of a carrier dove. Surely we can at length pass any-
where, out of whatsoever difficulty, if we have been able to pass
heres:

“There is one range of mountains before me,” said Walker,
“through which I do not as yet see any pass. I mean my future.
I have prepared myself thoroughly as a civil and mining engineer. I
hope to find employment in the western part of the United States, -








BARRY, THE BRAVE DOG OF ST. BERNARD.

THE GREAT ST. BERNARD AND MONT BLANC. 215

but as yet the way seems shut by an impenetrable wall. However, I
shall not be discouraged, but look for the pass. You have mentioned
the Pass of the Spliigen. I went over it this summer by diligence,
and the awful beauty of the Via Mala fully justifies what has been
written of it.”

“Tell me more of that trip,” Margaret asked. “So much of con-
sequence has happened that I have not heard as much as I would like
of your summer wanderings.”

“From the Spliigen I pursued a northeast course through the
beautiful valley of the Engadine to. Innsbruck, thence to Salzburg,
from which city I made a flying pilgrimage to the lakes of the Tyrol,
—the Kénigsee, the Obersee, and the Traunsee. At the Salz-
Kammergat, one of the most interesting salt-mines in the world, I
met a young Austrian who interested me in some lead-mines in
Hungary. I had remarked on the terrible condition of the miners, ©
and he told me that what interested him at these other mines was
not the engineering, which seemed to him rather old-fashioned, but
the attempt made by the owner to alleviate the condition of his
laborers.. As my chance acquaintance, a Herr Hauptman in the
Austrian army, was on his way back to his post, I determined to
accompany him, and see something of the enterprise in question.”

Margaret had been listening with increasing interest.

“ What was the name of the mines and of their owner?” she asked.

“The mines were called Nagy Krajova. -I believe Nagy means
‘great, and Krajova is the family name of the nobleman who is the
owner of the estate, the Count Krajova Lajos, putting the Christian
name last according to the Hungarian fashion.”

“ Delightful!” Margaret exclaimed. “I knew as soon as you
began to tell about them that it must be Lajos. Did you really
visit the mines? And had he begun reforms? He told me that
he intended to institute them, but he did not talk as if he had already
accomplished anything.”
216 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“ Indeed he has accomplished a great deal. I know of no miners
whose families live in as comfortable cottages and have as much done
for their well-being. While I was there an order came to erect a new
building, which is to serve as schoolhouse and public library, I was
sorry not to see the gentleman, but they told me he was travelling
in Switzerland.”

“You had a glimpse of him at Glion, the evening you passed us by
with such disdain,” Margaret replied, mischievously. “ He is a delight-
ful man, and we learned to know him well and like him immensely,
almost as well as a certain scornful scholar of my acquaintance.”

“ However admirable he may be as a philanthropist,” Mr. Walker
replied, with a trace of pique, “he is the most unpractical man for the
proprietor of a large mine of any that I know. It only proves what I
have often heard, that a man cannot attend to everybody’s business
and his own at the same time.”

“T like the Count Lajos all the better,’ Margaret replied, with some
warmth, “for first thinking of the welfare of those dependent upon
him.”

“Tt seems to me that the first concern of a business man is his
business, and there are immense resources in the count’s mine if they
were only properly developed. I do not mean to the prejudice of his
workmen, but simply by the application of modern methods.” ©

“ Then it seems to me that Count Lajos and you ought to be rolled
into one man. Seriously, Livingston, I fancy that I have some influ-
ence with him and that he might engage you as overseer of his mine,
perhaps even take you into partnership if I asked it.”

“ Please do not think of it. I do not wish to owe my advancement
in life to wire-pulling, and still less would I be willing that you should
put yourself in the position of asking so great a favor from this man.”

He did not say aloud, “ whose successful rival I am,” but he thought
it, and with no feeling of vexation with Margaret. “Who could help
loving her?” he thought. “Poor Count Krajova, I am richer than
you.
THE GREAT ST. BERNARD AND MONT BLANC. 217

Their next stopping-place was the Valley of Chamouni, which they
reached by a delightful drive by way of the Téte Noir.
A well-known author has said that it is useless to use mountainous

words to present mountainous things, and the
beauties of this celebrated valley have been
too often described, both in prose and verse,
to need an extended account here. The mon-
arch of mountains rose grandly before them,
but Margaret was disappointed to find in the
valley a collection of fashionable hotels like
those of Interlaken, with all the modern con-
veniences and inconveniences of porters, tele-
phones, electric bells, and waiters in evening



dress. “It has been well said,’ Mr. Walker remarked, “ that a gentle-

‘BARONESS OF HOHENSCHLOSSE.



man is only to be distinguished from his
valet by his aristocratic expression of in-
nocuous imbecility.”

“Switzerland is indeed the summer-
house of the world,’ Margaret replied,
“and this is just the place for ‘Calumet
and Hecla’ to appear again.” That very
afternoon they caught a glimpse of the
familiar face, which bore now the unfa-
miliar name of the Baroness of Hohen-
schlosse.

The listless expression changed to a
momentary gleam of pleasure as she rec-
ognized Margaret. She dropped her hus-
band’s arm presently and came to the part

of the veranda where Margaret was sitting.
“T am married,” she said, with a little flash of pride. “I am really a
baroness now. Mother has gone back to America. Ze did not want
218 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

her to live with us. I’m so sorry you didn’t marry that handsome
count; then I could have seen you now and then. I foresee that I
shall be a little lonely, for Ze wants me to drop my American friends ;
but if you were a countess he would let you visit me. Good by; he is
beckoning tome.”
“And to think,” Margaret said to herself with deep self-scorn,
“that when I was in Lucerne I was like ¢hat/”
The Judge manifested no desire to climb.
Mont Blanc, though Mr. Walker assured him
that it was not so dangerous as the Matter-
horn. “It has been made this season,” he
informed the Judge, “by several Americans;
and among others by Dr. John S. White of
New York, and by his son, a Harvard student,
whose intellectual and athletic prowess at the
age of seventeen are alike remarkable. It has
also been made by ladies. The first was a
French woman, Mademoiselle d’Angeville, who
accomplished it in 1840. The rarity of the
atmosphere frequently causes a giddiness, and
even temporary insanity, which is known to
the guides as the mountain sickness. It is
an expensive trip, for besides provisions and
ro THINK THAT Twas ©duipments, four or more guides must be en-—
err gaged, at twenty dollars apiece.”

‘“None of my money shall go in that way,”
said the cautious Judge. “Experience is the best school-teacher;
but she’s a very expensive one, as I have ascertained.”

The remainder of the party improved the day—a remarkably
clear one —by climbing to a sightly point called “ The Chapeau,” a
cliff opposite Montanvert, where a hut had been erected for the use
of travellers; and here one clear day they enjoyed a picnic and a

SS

SN

eS
FSS eS
5

S

y
ty

SS

ares
A
ee
q cS

.


THE GREAT ST. BERNARD AND MONT BLANC. : 219

magnificent view of the mighty Mer de Glace, formed by the union
of three glaciers, and not inappropriately named; for its sharp pin-
nacles are not unlike the stormy waves of an angry sea.

“T think Shelley has best described this spot,” said Margaret,
reading the following selection made for the Judge’s note-book : —

e “The glaciers creep

Like snakes that watch their prey from their far fountains,
Slowly rolling on; there many a precipice,

Frost and the sun in scorn of mortal power

Have piled dome, pyramid, and pinnacle ;

A city of death, distinct with many a tower

And wall impregnable of beaming ice.

Yet not a city; but a flood of ruin

Is there, that from the boundaries of the sky

Rolls its perpetual stream ; vast pines are strewing

Its destined path, or in the mangled soil

Branchless and shattered stand; the rocks, drawn down
From yon remotest waste, have overthrown

The limits of the dead and living world,

Never to be reclaimed.”

“The Glacier des Bossons at Chamouni is a striking example of
the exactitude with which the progressive motion has been calculated
by scientists,” said Mr. Walker. “Dr. Hamel and three guides were
swept away by an avalanche, and buried deeply upon this glacier
in the summer of 1822. It was impossible to recover their bodies;
but Professor Forbes, on examining the locality where they perished,
foretold that, according to his rate of glacier motion, they would
appear at the bottom of the glacier in forty years. In 1862 relatives:
and friends of the lost men, as well as scientists anxious to investigate
the truth of this theory, were on the spot, and many relics of the
party were discovered: a lantern, a straw hat, a luncheon done up
carefully, parts of a ladder, and several bodies, one of which was
recognized.”
220 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“T think,” said Margaret, “that the incident has been utilized in
a novel. A young man is lost in this way, and after the lapse of
forty years, his betrothed revisits the spot, and is confronted by his
fresh young face, preserved unchanged in the snow, while her own
has grown wrinkled and old.”

“J read in the Boston Tvranscripé of a erable accident which
occurred here in 1870,” continued. Mr. Walker. “Three travellers,
two of whom were Americans, John C. Randall of Quincy, Mass.,
and Dr. James B. Beane, a young physician of Baltimore, with three
guides and four porters, attempted the ascent, and were all lost.
The trip requires two days, and the party had spent the first night
at the shelter of Les Grands Mulets, setting the usual signal to
inform watchers below of their safe arrival. They completed the
ascent the next morning, and were seen in the afternoon descending
the mountain. Suddenly, as those who watched described it, a veil
seemed to be thrown over them, and they disappeared.

“ At night no lights were shown at the Grand Mulets, and the worst
fears were indulged. At five o’clock the next morning a relief party.
of thirty was organized and started out. They encountered a terrific
tempest of sleet and snow, and were out all the following night, throw- -
ing the village of Chamouni into a panic of apprehension for their
safety. They returned, however, after a fruitless search, reporting that
such quantities of snow had fallen that all land-marks were covered,
and that no human being could have survived such a night on the
upper part of the mountain. Several days later the bodies of some of
the party were found. They were seated, and Dr. Beane held a note-
book containing several entries. The last, dated the night of the
storm, was this: ‘We have dug a grotto in the snow at a height of ©
15,000 feet. I have no hope of descending; my feet are frozen and I
am exhausted. I have only strength to write these words. I die
believing in Jesus Christ, with the sweet thought of my family, my
friendships, and all. I hope we shall meet in heaven.’”
THE GREAT ST. BERNARD AND MONT BLANC. 221

A little silence fell on the party after reading these words. The
escape of the Judge and Nikolas was so recent that they seemed to
bear a personal import.

“ What did you think of, Nikolas,” Margaret asked, “as you lay in
the ravine just before you were rescued?”

“I did not think that 1 was going to die,’ the boy replied. “I
remembered the story you told me of the angels appearing to the
shepherds, and the last thing that I remember is wondering if they
‘would come and lift me out, and thinking that perhaps we had made a
mistake in keeping cows instead of sheep, because the angels loved
shepherds better than cow-keepers. That was foolish, was it not?
Now I know that the good angels love us all.”
222 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

CHAPTER XIV.
THE FETE DES VIGNERONS.

With antics and with fooleries,
With clappings and with laughter,
They fill the streets of Burgos;
And the devil he comes after.
For the King had hired the hornéd fiend,
For fifteen maravedis ; °
And there he goes, with hoofs for toes,
To terrify the ladies.
_ LoCKHART’s ‘‘¢ Spanish Ballads.”

NNETTE, driven by an accusing conscience, had gone to
Baireuth to make her confession to Cecilia. She had written
a full statement of her deception, and left it for Margaret to
read; but she could not bear to face Margaret with it. Cecilia, we
know, had always exercised a good influence over Annette, and to her
she went in her hour of remorse. She hoped, too, to find the myste-
rious countess, and through her to ascertain al] the facts in regard
to Margaret’s aunt, and thus make some reparation for her fault.
Brown Velvet, it will be remembered, had eaten up Annette’s
written confession, and Margaret was now approaching Vevey, hav-
ing completed the circle of her Swiss tour in entire ignorance of her
real position. The countess and her party had left Baireuth before
Annette’s arrival, but Cecilia received her kindly, heard the miserable
story patiently, and while she did not attempt to lessen the girl's
realization of her sin, helped her earnestly in her repentant efforts.
Letters were immediately dispatched to the countess and to Lajos.
THE FETE DES VIGNERONS. 223

Cecilia remembered that the name of Margaret Du Fais, which
Annette now declared was that of Margaret’s great-aunt, was that of
the countess’s old friend, of whose property Lajos was the guardian.

“Have you any proof of this?” Cecilia had asked, “other than
your own statement?” .

“T have the letter of Margaret’s aunt,” Annette replied. “I took
it from the desk just before leaving New York, for I had an idea that
it might be useful in some way.”

“Tt will be very useful in identifying the Baroness Du Fais,”
Cecilia replied. And she accordingly added a postcript to her letter
to the countess, asking her if she possessed any scrap of her friend’s
writing to send-it, that the chirography might be compared.

“ This information is sure to create grave complications,” she said
to Annette; “and you must. wait here until we hear from the
countess.”

An answer came in a few days in the person of Lajos himself. He
had hardly more than arrived at home, when the news came, but it
was of such importance, that he dropped his plans for improving
the condition of the miners, and returned immediately to Baireuth.
- He reported the countess as completely prostrated by the shock. She
- was unable to travel, but sent in her stead the family lawyer, Kisfaludy
Janos. Annette’s deposition was taken, and the letter in her posses- ©
sion compared with several sent by the countess, and found to be in
the same delicate but eccentric script. The statements in the baron-
ess’s letter tallied exactly with the facts which were known to exist,
and a crowning proof was the seal, the mailed hand bearing the fire-
brand, which Lajos recognized at once as the crest of his aunt’s friend.

The next step was to apprise Margaret. Annette persisted that she
had already done so, but a letter arrived from Margaret at this junc-
ture, written from the hospice of St. Bernard, reminding Cecilia that
the time was approaching when they had agreed to meet at Vevey,
and speaking of Katchen and Nikolas as her cousins. Cecilia read
224 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

this letter to Annette, and the girl was overwhelmed, at first with joy
at the news that Nikolas was saved, and then with fear lest Margaret
should decide to have nothing to do ‘with the children when she ascer-
tained that they were not her relatives.

‘She was so fond of Nikolas,” Annette said, “that long after I
regretted my deception, I kept it up for his sake, for she had planned
-. to do such great things for him. I do not
think I would ever have had the courage to
confess if [ had not thought that he was dead,
and my, confession could do him no harm.”

Annette determined that she would go to
Vevey with Cecilia to take the children back
to Zermatt in case Margaret wished to give
them up. Now that she had eased her con-
science by confession, she felt that she could
even endure seeing Margaret, and the Hun-
garian lawyer was of the opinion that as chief
witness in the affair, her presence was neces-
sary until it was entirely settled. -

The four accordingly set out together. As
they were a little in advance of the appointed
A STUDENT OF BERNE. time of meeting, Cecilia and Annette stopped

for two days in Berne, the capital of the Swiss



Confederacy, the impatient Lajos hurrying on with his lawyer to
Vevey. nls

_ Had we time and space, an interesting chapter might be given to ~
this ancient city, and to an explanation of the Swiss government, which
in many respects resembles that of the United States of America.

A republican constitution was formed in 1848, against which the
monarchies of Europe protested without effect. Twenty-two little
cantons form the Swiss Republic; some of them are not larger than
_ American counties, and the entire number of inhabitants scarcely
THE FETE DES VIGNERONS. 225

exceeds three millions. It is a republic in miniature, but its citizens
have a more direct power in making their own laws than those of our
Own country.

























































































































































































HIGH STREET, BERNE.

Should thirty thousand citizens or eight cantons disapprove of any
law made by the Parliament it must be submitted to popular vote.
226 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

“The people, not the president, hold the final veto power in Switzer-
land.” Indeed he has very little power of any kind and is only elected
for one year. It is said that a session of the Swiss Parliament is a
curious spectacle; for the discussions are conducted in all three of the
languages used in the confederation,— French, German, and Italian.
The official interpreters repeat every remark made, translating it ‘into
‘the other languages so that all the members may understand?

The new parliament houses are very handsome, but Cecilia was
more interested in the antique architecture of the city.

She stood before the clock tower at noon and watched the proces-
sion of puppets, the knight in armor, and the bears, which file out as
chimes strike the hour of twelve; and she drank of the ogre foun-
tain, erected to commemorate the possibly mythical story of the
murder of a child by the Jews.

Cecilia and Annette reached Glion only to find that every room in
the house was taken, and that she had carelessly neglected to secure
her own. A glance at the register reassured her; Margaret was here,
and she asked to be shown to her room.

Margaret was delighted to share her room with her friend, and
ordered a mattress laid upon the floor of her little dressing-room for
Annette, which was the best that could be done in the way of hospi-
tality. They slept little that night, however, for each of the girls had
a great deal to say. Lajos had not yet found Margaret, so that
Cecilia had the pleasure of first communicating the news.

“T do not quite understand what it all means,” Margaret said, after
the first shock was over; “but one thing is certain, I shall not give
up the children. As for Annette, I forgive her freely. Like Joseph’s
brethren, she ‘thought evil, but God meant it for good.’ I never
could have understood in any other way how the poor live, or have
sympathized with their troubles so intimately if I had not believed

1 The author is indebted for information in regard to the Swiss government to an article by ©
S. H. M. Byers, published in the Vouth’s Companion for March, 1889.
ae

THE FETE DES VIGNERONS. Di]

that I shared them. And after all, are we not of one great
family ?”

Annette, who was at her old trick of listening at the door, could
not contain her gratitude, but burst in and threw herself at Margaret's
feet, weeping and blessing her. |

Margaret was deeply affected. “ There, Cousin Annette, that will
do,” she said. “We will not tell Mother Lochwalder or Yakob any-
thing about-this. I will be their ‘lady | |
cousin’ still. Go back and care for
them while they. live, and rest assured
that Katchen and Nikolas are as dear
to me as ever.”

Although Lajos and Mr. Kisfaludy
had arrived at Glion for two days be-
fore this, it so happened that they had
not yet met Margaret ; for, owing to
the crowded state of the hotel, they
had been obliged to take a room ata
hotel at Montreux. Lajos had twice /
mounted the hill to call upon Margaret, /
but had not found her at home. He
had written her, asking her to appoint
an hour when he might call; but the
clerk had so much to attend to that he KATCHEN AMERICANIZED,
forgot to deliver the letter, and it was
not until the latter part of the /éze that good fortune brought them
together.

The festival lasted five days, beginning on the 12th of August,
with spectacles on the mornings of four of the days. On Wednesday,
the 14th, there was a performance in the evening; but the day was
reserved as a rest for the performers. The Judge had secured tickets,
some time in advance, at five dollars each, for seats in the great
amphitheatre for Thursday. —


228 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

Every means of conveyance from Glion was packed; but here, too,
our friends had been so wise as to secure a carriage on their first
arrival. They left Glion early in the morning, passed many pedes-
trians on their way, and many vehicles filled beyond their capacity.
The boats were loaded to the water’s edge; and though extra trains
were run, hundreds of disappointed passengers were left standing
upon the platforms of the stations. At
the entrance to the out-of-door theatre
it was still worse. Although the seats,
erected upon scaffolding three stories
high, contained twelve thousand per-
sons, four or five thousand who arrived
on Wednesday were unable to obtain
admission.
iy Three sides of the vast enclosure were
} Ly framed by the tiers of seats. The fourth

jy side was occupied by three monumental

_ “al x * entrances dedicated to Pallas, Bacchus,

) EE Gs Yj, ‘ and Ceres. The background was formed
A ee Ya yy by the beautiful line of the mountains.

toy, Soi At exactly a quarter of eight an hundred
[ 4



handsome Switzers in national costume,



preceded by a band of music, marched
AT THE FESTIVAL. in, and took positions on each side.
They were received with the enthusiastic
applause of their compatriots, some of whom were heard to express
the wish that Bismarck might have seen them. “Yes,” said one
sturdy Bernese, “he would see then what stuff our boys are made
of, and would not talk so lightly of suppressing the Swiss Republic
by force of arms.” While the bells of the town rang eight o’clock
the three cor¢éges of Spring, Summer, and Autumn made their entrance
amidst the salvos of artillery. -
3

THE FETE DES VIGNERONS. 5 ; 229

After a Swiss hymn chanted by the full chorus, and the invocations
of the high priests, dances were executed by each of the three com-
panies, commencing by the “Children of Spring,” charming little
cherubs from five to eight years of age. Then the mowers, robed in
sky-blue, simulated the cutting of grass, and shepherds and shepherd-
esses, costumed in pale-.rose, led in beautiful troops of snow-white
lambs. The gardeners next appeared, bearing arches twined with
roses, forming a lovely arbor through
which troops of pretty girls danced
merrily. Then, filling the air with the
bray of their mighty Alpine horns,
came the herdsmen and dairy-maids, .
conducting beautiful cows, and here
Nikolas’s enthusiasm knew no bounds,
though he declared that none of the
prize animals was so handsome as
Brown Velvet. A celebrated singer of
Fribourg sang the Ranz des Vaches.
The suite which accompanied Spring
ended, and a group of haymakers
dressed in red, carrying scythes and
forks, gleaners in white bearing sheaves, BI eee
and thrashers with flails, did honor to
the goddess Summer, while a great mill came tottering in to complete
the representation. To represent Autumn, a pretty ballet was danced
to music by vintagers who executed all the processes of gathering
grapes and placing them in baskets which the boys emptied into a
wine-press. Then came the triumphal car of Bacchus, escorted by a
company of dancing Bacchantes, fauns and thyrsus-bearers.

To close the performance and to stand for Winter, a village mar-



rlage procession was enacted. Among the guests were the twenty-
two Swiss cantons dressed in the peasant costume appropriate to each.
230 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

The notary, in a black satin gown, followed; then a group of fiddlers
and pretty children bearing the wedding presents; a dowry-wagon,
loaded with the bride’s furniture, and a band of huntsmen. It was a
beautiful spectacle, and one which fully justified the enthusiastic .
praises which the countess had bestowed upon a former representa-
tion. Margaret was very glad that their tour in Switzerland had
chanced to include this privilege.

But after the close of the performance the utmost confusion reigned.
Passengers for Lausanne were obliged to wait for several hours at the
railway station, though long trains of forty-five cars and three loco-
motives had been provided. At the landings it was still worse. On
the frail wharf without a railing were crowded hundreds of people
desiring to embark in different directions, so that when the steamer
for Geneva arrived many were borne on board by the press, and
carried away who had an entirely opposite destination.

In attempting to reach their carriage Margaret was separated from
her friends, and was not able to find them for an hour. Judging that
they would come in search of her, she stationed herself in a doorway
near the entrance to the grounds of the festival, and waited.

The crowd had partially dispersed when two gentlemen passed her.
One of them glanced back over his shoulder when at a little distance,
uttered an exclamation and hurriedly returned. It was Lajos, who
had sought for her for four days without success. He introduced his
companion, the lawyer Kisfaludy. Mutual explanations were made,
and Lajos secured for them all a more convenient coigne of vantage in
the window of a cobbler’s shop. Here, where they could still keep a
lookout for her friends, Lajos left the lawyer in care of Margaret, while
he hurried away in search of the Judge.

“ Before I go,” he said, ‘let me give my aunt’s message. She begs
that you will accept her apologies for —”

“None are. necessary, Friend Lajos.”

“It is like you to say so. We think differently. I owe you a


































































































































































































0
3
=|O
ID,
2;

VEVEY.



VINTAGE FESTIVAL,

THE FETE DES VIGNERONS. 23

large debt outside the moneyed one. We will talk it all over at any
time which will be convenient to you.” And with a respectful bow,
he was gone. ;

The lawyer, a quizzical-appearing little man, regarded Margaret
with keen inquiry. She could not help thinking that he looked
exactly like a barrister in a play. He spoke excellent English, and
began at once to discuss the new situation.

“It 4s very fortunate for you, mademoiselle,
that the discovery of the existing relations
between yourself and the Baroness Du Fais
was made so exactly in the nick of time.”

“How is that?” Margaret asked.

“The will of your respected great-aunt,”
explained the little man, “ provided —and that
of the late Count Krajova made a similar pro-
vision — that if you preferred your claim as ;
heiress to the baroness’s estate at any time
before the fifth of August of this year, one of
three results should ensue. Case first: should



a marriage be arranged between you and the
Count Lajos, the estates of the late count and —-KISFALUDY JANos.
baroness would pass to you both jointly.”

_ “That case is impossible,” Margaret replied promptly.

2 Exactly so. Now observe what follows. The estates pass zx toto
from whichever party declines the marriage to the party consenting
thereto.”

“ Then,” said Margaret, “I do not see that I am the gainer by this
will; for I certainly decline this marriage.”

“My dear young lady, I will imagine that I have not heard that
remark ; for it is so greatly detrimental to your own interests that it
should not be made without due deliberation.” |

“ But nothing could induce me to marry the Count Lajos, much as
I esteem him as a friend.”
234 THREE VASSAR GIRLS [IN SWITZERLAND.

“Very good. There will be no necessity for you to do so. The
Count Lajos has already declined to marry you. Your acknowledging
yourself ready to carry out the provisions of this clause will not
prejudice your future otherwise than to secure to yourself a valuable
estate.”

“ This is very astonishing,” Margaret replied. “I must consult with
Livingston — with my grandfather, I mean— I-must think it over.”

“Exactly so. And, as I see the count approaching with a gentle-
man, we will drop the subject.”

“T have found your party,” said Lajos; “and, at the same time, a
gentleman whom I have been in search of for some time. I have
heard a great deal of Mr. Livingston Walker, both from Miss New-
ton, and, latterly, from a friend of mine, who tells me that he showed
him our mines during my absence. I hope to have further conversa-
tion with you, sir, on the subject of mining engineering.”

An appointment was made for a meeting on the following day, at
Glion; and Margaret, quite dazed by what had happened, was escorted
by Mr. Walker to her carriage.

She said nothing to her betrothed, or to the Judge, in regard to
Mr. Kisfaludy’s communication. It seemed to her, in spite of what
she had said, that this was a matter which she must decide for herself,
and that it could be decided honorably in only one way. She dreaded
her grandfather's legal sophistries; for she knew that he would regret
her loss of the fortune, and would strive in every way to ee cium
her possession.

Lajos and the lawyer arrived at the appointed time, and, leaving the
latter to explain the will to the Judge and to Mr. Walker, Margaret
asked Lajos to take a short walk with her in the grounds of the hotel. -

¢ Kisfaludy Janos tells me that he has informed you of the peculiar
position in which we stand to each other,” said Lajos.

“Yes,” replied Margaret, “and I have no doubt that it seems as
absurd to you as it does to me.” .
THE FETE DES VIGNERONS. 235

ll does seem as if our loving relatives, while they had our best
interests at heart, muddled matters about as effectually as possible.”

“ But the solution is very simple. I refuse you, Lajos. You won't
mind it, I am sure, under the circumstances, and you are free and have
the fortune besides.”

“I beg your pardon, Margaret; it is impossible for you to refuse
one who has never proposed for your hand.”

Margaret flushed. “ But you won't mind doing so when I assure
you beforehand that it is simply a matter of form, to secure your estates.
I pledge you my word that I will certainly decline your offer.”

“TI believe you, my friend; but nevertheless I am not free to make
one. I am betrothed to Alice. It would be dishonorable for me, as her
promised husband, to propose for the hand of any other woman.
Therefore, Margaret, the mines are yours. I only ask that you will
try to perfect the reforms which I have instituted.”

Margaret tapped her foot impatiently. “Don’t you see that the
- conditions are the same for both of us? I cannot own the estate with-.
out first stating that I am willing to marry you.”

“ And why not, since I have no desire to take advantage of that
admission. You cannot fear, Margaret, that you are being led into a
trap?”

“Oh! no, indeed; I am quite convinced that nothing could induce
-you to marry me, and it is very lovely of you. But then, you see, I
can’t even pretend to consent to this marriage, for Iam engaged to Mr.

Walker.”

Each: of the young people looked at each other in comical per-
plexity, and then burst into a merry peal of laughter.

“ Here’s a pretty state of things,” Lajos remarked at last. “I don’t
believe there ever existed just such another complication. We shall
have to leave it to be settled by wiser heads than our own. Let us go
in and see what your grandfather and Kisfaludy Janos can make of it.”

They found the others awaiting their coming with serious faces.

*
2 36 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

Mr. Walker in especial seemed ill pleased by the information which he
had just received. His face lightened, however, as Margaret announced:
“ And Lajos and I wish it distinctly understood that under no circum-
stances whatever can we or could we marry each other, for we each of
us love some one else a thousand times more. And the old mines are
of no consequence whatever.”

“ The question at issue then,” said the lawyer, “is as to the priority
of this decision.”

“I decided first,” said Lajos promptly. “I decided that I cared
more for Alice than for any other good fortune, when I first met her
at Glion. The estate clearly belongs to Margaret.”

“But I decided at the same time,” said Margaret, “that, although
you are a very nice friend, Lajos, no fortune would induce me to marry
you.”
“Children, cease your quarrelling,” said the Judge; “we shall never
come to a conclusion in this way. Was there not a third clause in the
~ will, Mr. Janos?”

“ Kisfaludy,” Lajos corrected. ‘‘ Janos is his Christian name, John,
which we Hungarians write last.”

“Absurd custom!” growled the Judge. ‘Well, Mr. Kiss-the-
lady,— you have not read us the entire will, I believe.”

“The third provision related to the possibility of the heiress not
appearing before the fifth of August of this year. It reads as follows: —

“ Copies of both of these wills shall be sent to Miss Margaret Du
Fais in the United States of America. And if the said Margaret Du
Fais shall decease before her coming of age, or shall not present her
claim, or it shall not be preferred by her legal representatives before
the fifth of August, 1889, then the party of the second part, Krajova
Lajos, shall be released from any obligations of betrothal by us
entered into, and from the conditions of property settlement stated
in clauses first and second, but the original amount left by Margaret
Du Fais, Baroness, shall be rendered to her said. grandniece, her heirs

2
THE FETE DES VIGNERONS. 237

or assigns, without interest, at any time after the said fifth of August,
-1889, on which claim to the same shall be made.”

“Strange, that we never received a copy of the wills, but that
certainly is the fairest thing all around,” said the Judge. “It is now
the fifteenth of August, you will observe.”

“Unfortunately,” replied Kisfaludy, “ infomation was received by
‘us as to the identity of Miss Du Fais with the proofs contained in
the confession of Annette Stauffer on the third of August.”

“ Information, true,” exclaimed Margaret, “but no claim was pre-
ferred. J did not even authorize the sending of the information, and
the will expressly states that the claim must be preferred by me or
by my legal representatives. Clearly the circumstances fall under the
third clause.”

“J believe you are right, young lady, and that it will be so decided
by our courts,” remarked Kisfaludy.

“Then, Margaret,” said Lajos, “we shall be equal owners of the
mines. In what form would you like to have your property rendered?”

“ There will be time enough to settle that,” said Kisfaludy, “ after
the will is duly approved by law; but that is an easy matter now.”

And so the conference broke up, and in this way the knotty prob-
lem was at last settled.

. Lajos urged them all to accept his aunt’s invitation to visit at the
schateau until everything was settled, but the Judge and Margaret
were eager to return to America. It was finally agreed that Mr.
Walker should represent Margaret’s interests as Lajos’s partner and
superintendent of the mines, Margaret’s funds not to be drawn from
the works, as Mr. Walker believed that they were well invested there,
and that with more progressive management might be made to yield
a handsome income for all concerned.

“T shall be glad of this,” said Margaret, “for now I can educate
my protégées, and Nikolas can have the best surgical treatment.”

“ And our marriage need not be postponed to an indefinite future.
238 THREE VASSAR GIRLS IN SWITZERLAND.

I shall return to America next year to render an account of my
stewardship, and if my report is satisfactory shall claim my reward.”
Thus ended the travels of the Three Vassar Girls in Switzerland.

From Glion Lajos, Mr. Kisfaludy, and Mr. Walker returned to
Hungary. The others crossed the lake to Geneva, from which point
they had begun their Swiss tours.’

While here, and just before returning to America, it chanced that
the Judge and Margaret passed the shop where the Judge had pur-
chased his alpenstock, and had so confidently ordered it to be branded
with the names of the most celebrated Alpine peaks. “I shall have
the shaft sand-papered,” said the Judge humbly; “for even before
the rival members of the New York Geographical Society I cannot
show quite the effrontery which is ascribed to an English mountaineer
by Henry Glassford Bell in his poem: —

“MY ALPENSTOCK.

“ Best of artists, mark for me
On my trusty alpenstock
All the proper things, d’ye see?
Every mountain, every rock.

“That when I go home therewith
Friends may know that I have been
Quite as high as Albert Smith, ~
Or balloon of Mr. Green.

“ Mark it with the Rigi first;
Some say that’s an easy hill,
Yet I own the place accurst
Found me at the bottom still.

“Then the Brunig— mark it strong ;
Truth itself can’t take offence.
All that height I came along,
Rattling in the diligence.
THE FETE DES VIGNERONS. 239

“ Mark it with the Jungfrau next —
Very few have ventured on her.
That I did not I am vext,
For I meant it, on my honor.

' “From Martigny by Téte Noir
' Or the Col de Balme they pace.
I said only au revoir,

When I saw the kind of place.

“ Mark it lastly with Mont Blanc,
Though it made me gasp and quake
With a kind of mortal, pang,
Just to view it from the lake.

“Thanks, my artist! Now I go
Back to London with delight,
For my alpenstock will show
What becomes a man of might.”







Hy
~ WiTRERLAND ‘Gunn
We Zug a
J / 3 Lucerne Q
Bern

>
Newchat yy )
a
sAltch.
Yay Fripoury orl

ie 7

Interlaken




Lausanne:

Ww “4 Lefee
, Ve St Guithara
4 4 qj Rice Vevery Te way tae
{ Woe :
iS 4 =.
Lo Qeneva- ON, Sind Pass -
ss
iN x



ot
a mol

.Zer
l aMatLerhorns



= 2
aie elope ptimtont Rosa F
Mont Blane 25 Ga- St Bernard aye









Monte Ros
East &

=a ea is
5: Lys kam mx Trans ©
14 WHR Ee a
e/a




of, te 237

ae

= one ae ; at om 9
ahe~ Me a ‘ini BINA Das \ i
Yep Ure < “4 : Se % Des aire ‘ a sates : oe o $ Ee

i = i



ao Peete oa Wo eae 7
Ah om tain Cae Bk LF Bi Sees
wr,

\ See oe soa
" f =o Tae,

Cc
bape




















MART ORAMAS
1a<46} 12609 :
2 deed a oe LUNN ee Ao oo —— 12170 '
Of ws =P Sth oe SS ae
Ml WN? ig, ZB oy a CL
Lj Yj hee NS : ie GI. i \ \ \\ we Yi yy
VW

cee N-N-W Weisghorn —
Vp, " \ \\ wy my)
Z yy
= Zi y








ft.

EZ,







Breithorn:
1766 -






5



4

7

WY,







LEGG;
fy

“ HY ly
Lh
Yy WY LG



see

nang * ee: Ss
M1 ~
fan) s IM “OUI Mun ovary

Goxrnerdgyat

. MIS@HABEL

" GRABENHORN

fot Numa? i
\

MS

gy NERS

y

iy
Wily

i
Y






MME
Ve

S

ie . Hi i

mea

7 —~ angi:

Vy ~ 2 3 io









(
\

(}
Mi
Wr,

yy a NAY

SS

Matternory
13-901

’
N




‘
i
i

‘




















Wi CIRMALT YP



STOcKHORN
~y East

“g tl
Bi

LY

Yj
LLL,

YU YG
WW)

Wess Tae
1b753

Cans
AG
Mine

Ip

Ch aoa

REE