eech, bearing and appearance a peasant like Fausch
but less rugged, and stouter, though strong and broad shouldered. He
had a fat red face, a grayish white beard, and was not as large as the
smith, though he was a well grown man, and had rather a large stomach,
and very large arms, but he was as quick at his work as a young and
slender man. The expression of his face was intelligent, and his manner
of speaking was loud and commanding; one saw at once that on the
mountain he was like a king whose word was the only law in his
dominion.

There began to be quite a commotion in the courtyard with its worn
stone pavement that lay between the two buildings. Muleteers and
travelers, who had spent the night at the hospice, were getting ready
to leave. A stable boy led two horses to the smith in his workshop; in
his short, selfsufficient way, Stephen took one by the halter and tied
him. He did not ask what work was to be done, but cast a look over both
animals and started to shoe the first. The stable boy was accustomed to
take hold and help, but Fausch did not seem to notice his well meant
offers, and managed the horse alone, every motion he made being
peculiarly quick and sure. Simmen and the stable boy exchanged glances,
and then laughed. "He knows his job," said the latter. Then he turned
to leave. But just then Cain came along toward the smithy bringing a
pail of milk from one of the little sheds which were scattered here and
there on the meadow land around the hospice. As Simmen saw the boy
coming toward the shop, he paused again and looked at him.

The morning was warm, for it was summer, and the sunlight was already
flooding the meadow from which the young man was approaching. He was
barefooted, like the Alpine peasants, indeed he had been used to run
barefooted as a child. His well worn trousers were turned up above his
ankles, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up nearly to his elbows. He
came forward with a light, swaying step, dressed only in shirt and
trousers. Everything about him seemed as fresh and free as the morning.

"Heavens and earth!" said Simmen.

Fausch did not pause in his work. Only once he looked quickly, almost
secretly at the lad who was approaching.

"That's a fine looking boy of yours, Fausch," Simmen went on.

The smith muttered something or other. As he kept on driving nails into
the horseshoe, no one would have suspected that his breath was coming
faster and that Simmen's praise had aroused