cating, with a father's
love, a small portion of the meagre warmth that still remained in his own
aged frame to that of his drooping daughter--"canst thou bethink thee of
nothing, that may be done, in this awful strait?"
"If the good monks have been active--" returned the wavering Pierre. "I
fear me that the dogs have not yet been exercised, on the paths, this
season!"
"Has it then come to this! Are our lives indeed dependent on the uncertain
sagacity of brutes!"
"Mein Herr, I would bless the Virgin, and her holy Son, if it were so! But
I fear this storm has been so sudden and unexpected, that we may not even
hope for their succor."
Melchior groaned. He folded his child still nearer to his heart, while the
athletic Sigismund shielded his drooping sister, as the fowl shelters its
young beneath the wing.
"Delay is death," rejoined the Signor Grimaldi. "I have heard of muleteers
that have been driven to kill their beasts, that shelter and warmth might
be found in their entrails."
"The alternative is horrible!" interrupted Sigismund. "Is return
impossible? By always descending, we must, in time reach the village
below."
"That time would be fatal," answered Pierre. "I know of only one resource
that remains. If the party will keep together, and answer my shouts I will
make another effort to find the path."
This proposal was gladly accepted, for energy and hope go hand-in-hand,
and the guide was about to quit the group, when he felt the strong grasp
of Sigismund on his arm.
"I will be thy companion," said the soldier firmly.
"Thou hast not done me justice, young man," answered Pierre, with severe
reproach in his manner. "Had I been base enough to desert my trust, these
limbs and this strength are yet sufficient to carry me safely down the
mountain; but though a guide of the Alps may freeze like another man, the
last throb of his heart will be in behalf of those he serves!"
"A thousand pardons brave old man--a thousand pardons; still, will I be
thy companion; the search that is conducted by two will be more likely to
succeed, than that on which thou goes alone."
The offended Pierre, who liked the spirit of the youth as much as he
disliked his previous suspicions, met the apology frankly. He extended his
hand and forgot the feelings, that, even amid the tempests of those wild
mountains, were excited by a distrust of his honesty. After this short
concession to the ever-burning, though smothered volcano,
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