tle boy.

The snow fell more scantily and the shadows lay under him; he looked
back, there was no one to be seen, but he heard laughing and _jodling_
and it did not appear to come from a human being. When Rudy reached
the uppermost portion of the mountain, where the rocky path leads to
the valley of the Rhone, he saw in the direction of Chamouni, two
bright stars, twinkling and shining in the clear streaks of blue; he
thought of Babette, of himself, of his happiness and became warmed by
his thoughts.

VI.

THE VISIT TO THE MILL.

"You bring princely things into the house!" said the old
foster-mother, her singular eagle-eyes glistened and she made strange
and hasty motions with her lean neck.

"Fortune is with you, Rudy, I must kiss you, my sweet boy!"

Rudy allowed himself to be kissed, but one could read in his
countenance, that he but submitted to circumstances and to little
household miseries. "How handsome you are, Rudy!" said the old woman.

"Do not put notions into my head!" answered Rudy, and laughed, but
still it pleased him.

"I say it once more," said the old woman, "fortune is with you!"

"Yes, I agree with you there!" said he; thought of Babette and longed
to be in the deep valley. "They must have returned, two days have
passed since they expected to do so. I must go to Bex!"

Rudy went to Bex, and the inhabitants of the mill had returned; he was
well received and they brought him greetings from the family at
Interlaken. Babette did not talk much, she had grown silent; but her
eyes spoke and that was quite enough for Rudy. The miller who
generally liked to carry on the conversation--for he was accustomed to
have every one laugh at his witty sayings and puns--was he not the
rich miller?--seemed now to prefer to listen. Rudy recounted to him
his hunting expeditions; described the difficulties, the dangers and
the privations of the chamois hunter when on the lofty mountain peak;
how often he must climb over the insecure snow-ledges, that the wind
had blown on the rocky brink, and how he must pass over slight bridges
that the snow-drifts had thrown across the abyss. Rudy looked
fearless, his eyes sparkled whilst he spoke of the shrewdness of the
chamois, of their daring leaps, of the violence of the Foehn and of the
rolling avalanches. He observed that with every description he won
more and more favour; but what pleased the miller more than all, was
the account of the lamb's vulture and the