; that is what made him cry out. Look!"

"What at?" said Dale quietly, as they now stood beside the ashes of the
last night's fire.

"Cannot the herr see?"

Dale looked sharply round, and Saxe followed his example.

"I see nothing," said the former.

"Nor I," said Saxe; "only that the bits of burnt wood seem to have been
kicked about."

"That's it, herr," cried Melchior; "and look there!"

He bent down, and pointed.

"Ah! look, Saxe!" cried Dale: "some one's footmark in the pine ash!"

"'Tisn't mine," said Saxe: "it's too big."

"Nor mine," said Dale. "An English boot does not leave a print like
that. It's yours, Melchior. A false alarm."

"No, herr--no false alarm," said the guide; and he raised one foot so as
to expose the sole. "Look at the open way in which I nail my boots--
with big nails, so that they shall not slip on the rock or ice. That
footprint is not mine."

"No: you are right. Then whose could it be?"

Melchior shook his head.

"Some one must have been prowling round the tent in the night."

"It must have been one of Melk's spirits--the one who threw stones at us
yesterday. I say, Melk, they wear very big boots."

The guide smiled.

"Yes, herr, it was some one with big boots; and I do not understand it."

Dale's first idea--a natural one under the circumstances--was that
plunder was the object; and he said so.

"No, herr; I do not think there is anybody about here who would steal."

"I'm very glad to hear it," said Dale: "but let's see if anything has
gone."

The guide said nothing--only looked on while an examination was made.

"No," said Dale; "I do not miss anything. Yes: my little binocular is
missing!"

"No, herr; you put it inside the big basket last night."

"Yes, here it is," cried Saxe.

"Then you are right, Melchior: it could not have been robbery."

"No, herr, it is strange; but I will light the fire and get breakfast."

As he spoke he began kindling some dry stuff he had collected, and
shortly after the coffee-pot was promising to boil. Then some bacon was
sliced and frizzled, and the appetising odour soon made the memories of
the night alarm pass away in the thoughts of the excellent breakfast,
which was finished while the pass in which they were seated was still
grey, though the mountain peaks looked red-hot in the coming sunshine.

"Well, I'm not going to let an incident like that interfere with our
progress, Melchior. Where do you propose going