III

THE SILVER HORN

During the next week, which they spent in journeying towards Vienna,
they gave the Sign to three different persons at places which were on
the way. In a village across the frontier in Bavaria they found a
giant of an old man sitting on a bench under a tree before his mountain
"Gasthaus" or inn; and when the four words were uttered, he stood up
and bared his head as the guide had done. When Marco gave the Sign in
some quiet place to a man who was alone, he noticed that they all did
this and said their "God be thanked" devoutly, as if it were part of
some religious ceremony. In a small town a few miles away he had to
search some hours before he found a stalwart young shoemaker with
bright red hair and a horseshoe-shaped scar on his forehead. He was
not in his workshop when the boys first passed it, because, as they
found out later, he had been climbing a mountain the day before, and
had been detained in the descent because his companion had hurt himself.

When Marco went in and asked him to measure him for a pair of shoes, he
was quite friendly and told them all about it.

"There are some good fellows who should not climb," he said. "When they
find themselves standing on a bit of rock jutting out over emptiness,
their heads begin to whirl round--and then, if they don't turn head
over heels a few thousand feet, it is because some comrade is near
enough to drag them back. There can be no ceremony then and they
sometimes get hurt--as my friend did yesterday."

"Did you never get hurt yourself?" The Rat asked.

"When I was eight years old I did that," said the young shoemaker,
touching the scar on his forehead. "But it was not much. My father
was a guide and took me with him. He wanted me to begin early. There
is nothing like it--climbing. I shall be at it again. This won't do
for me. I tried shoemaking because I was in love with a girl who
wanted me to stay at home. She married another man. I am glad of it.
Once a guide, always a guide." He knelt down to measure Marco's foot,
and Marco bent a little forward.

"The Lamp is lighted," he said.

There was no one in the shop, but the door was open and people were
passing in the narrow street; so the shoemaker did not lift his red
head. He went on measuring.

"God be thanked!" he said, in a low voice. "Do you want these shoes
really, or did you only want me to take your measure?"

"I cannot wait until they are made," Marco answere