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Page 10
Leaving this enchanted spot, we passed the waterfall D'Orli, and a
few miles beyond we paused to admire the cataract of Arpenas. Its
height is estimated at eight hundred feet. The water rushes with
considerable volume over a tremendous precipice of dark and fantastic
rocks. At first it divides into separate streams that in their fall
resemble descending rockets, till at length, caught by the rocks
beneath, they meet and mingle in one mass of foam.
At the cataract we had an instance of that deception which is produced
to the eye by the magnitude of the objects which compose the scenery
of these Alpine regions. Viewed from the road the fall did not appear
by any means so considerable as it measurement determines; while at
its foot there was a little green hillock to the summit of which it
seemed a few steps would reach. To this hillock we determined to
proceed. But what was our astonishment when we found a mountain
before us, and when we reached its top, the cataract loomed up in
inconceivable vastness, rushing into a wild abyss beneath, that
deafened us with its uproar and bedewed us with its spray.
We now approached the village of Maglan, where Vesta lived. As we drew
near, I observed Erwald's face flush and grow pale; that dear sister
he had not seen since his father drove her from the house because of
her apostasy. Now she was ill and had sent for him. How great the
change! His mother was a Christian and his father did not go to mass.
As we entered the village I was struck with the pleasing, intelligent
faces of all that we met. Leaving us at the door of the only
lodging-house in the place, Erwald went to visit his sister; but not
before I had asked that he would return for me provided that he found
her comfortable. In an hour or more, he returned, his countenance
sad, but still peaceful. Vesta was sicker than he had dreamed of; it
was feared that she would not recover.
"Do you think it will not hurt her, for me to see her?" I asked.
"Oh, no, she said that she would like to see you."
During our short walk few words were said. As we reached the cottage a
young man came out to meet us, with a flaxen-haired, blue-eyed child
in his arms, and another clinging to his hand. It was Vesta's husband,
and these were her children. Following them into the cottage, I found
myself at once in the presence of the dying woman. The sight of a
strange face did not disturb her. With a look that seemed to
comprehend the Christian bond of union between us she held out her
hand.
"I have come with Erwald," I said, "to see his sister. I am sorry to
find you so very ill."
"Almost home," she gasped.
"You do not feel that you are alone; there is One to walk with you?"
"Jesus, my Redeemer, my Comforter."
Erwald was kneeling by the bed, his eyes were full of tears, and his
hand trembled as he clasped the pale thin fingers.
"You will get well, Vesta, you will come to the old home once again,
mother expects you, and father." The words were gone. Sobs echoed
through the cottage.
"Tell mother, not an hour but I have thought of her. Tell her that I
am glad she loves Jesus; and father, ask him for my sake to read the
little Bible that I sent him. I would so like to see them, Erwald;
but it cannot be. For this, as well as for my husband and children, I
would live; but I go to Jesus. Live so as to meet me there."
There was no excitement, only a weary look stole over the face.
Leaving Erwald, I walked back to the inn. Though far away from home,
and surrounded by strange scenery and strange people, it was
delightful to find the same faith here as in my own home, the same
heaven inspired confidence in the Redeemer.
The next morning the sick woman was more comfortable. Erwald did not
say it, but I knew that he wanted to stay with her.
"Go with us to Le Prieur�," I said to him, "and then you shall return.
In the valley of Chamouni I feel sure we can procure a guide."
As we left Maglan, our road, or rather path, led up a deep and fertile
valley, watered by the Arve, rich in woods of fir, and bounded by
mountains of various forms and of tremendous altitudes; their rugged
peaks sometimes lost in the clouds; at others, their heads towered in
majesty above them. Bathed in the blue ether of the heavens they
looked as if themselves ethereal, oftentimes exhibiting a play of
colors, having the appearance of transparent matter, of the purest
elements and richest hues, and when seen in the light of the setting
sun they were only more glorious. At the upper end of the valley we
came upon the cataract of the Chede. It is elegant in form. The
scenery that surrounds it is sylvan and sequestered. The torrent that
feeds it rushes down a succession of precipices, hurrying dashing
along to meet the waters of the Arve.
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