tz Dorp."

Soon he announced the "Engelish kirch," thereby meaning the round
arched English church overlooking the lake; or it might be, with a
loftier sweep of the whip, "Piz Julier montin, mit lek Silvaplaner
See."

All this Helen could have told him with equal accuracy and even
greater detail. Had she not almost learned by heart each line of
Baedeker on the Upper Engadine? Could she not have reproduced from
memory a fairly complete map of the valley, with its villages,
mountains, and lakes clearly marked? But she would not on any account
repress the man's enthusiasm, and her eager acceptance of his quaint
information induced fresh efforts, with more whip waving.

"Piz Corvatsch! Him ver' big fellow. Twelf t'ousen foots. W'en me
guide him bruk ze leg."

She had seen that he was very lame as he hobbled about the carriage
tying up her boxes. So here was a real guide. That explained his
romantic aspect, his love of the high places. And he had been maimed
for life by that magnificent mountain whose scarred slopes were now
vividly before her eyes. The bright sunshine lit lakes and hills with
its glory. A marvelous atmosphere made all things visible with
microscopic fidelity. From Campfer to Silvaplana looked to be a ten
minutes' drive, and from Silvaplana to Sils-Maria another quarter of
an hour. Helen had to consult her watch and force herself to admit
that the horses were trotting fully seven miles an hour before she
realized that distances could be so deceptive. The summit of the
lordly Corvatsch seemed to be absurdly near. She judged it within the
scope of an easy walk between breakfast and afternoon tea from the
hotel on a tree covered peninsula that stretched far out into Lake
Sils-Maria, and she wondered why anyone should fall and break his leg
during such a simple climb. Just to make sure, she glanced at the
guidebook, and it gave her a shock when she saw the words, "Guides
necessary,"--"Descent to Sils practicable only for experts,"--"Spend
night at Roseg Inn,"--the route followed being that from Pontresina.

Then she recollected that the lovely valley she was traversing from
beginning to end was itself six thousand feet above sea level,--that
the observatory on rugged old Ben Nevis, which she had visited when in
Scotland, was, metaphorically speaking, two thousand feet beneath the
smooth road along which she was being driven, and that the highest
peak on Corvatsch was still six thousand feet above her head.