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Page 13
"'"What is that, Walter, it seems as though the mountain was moving?"
"'"For heaven's sake, jump! we will catch you," shouted the guide.
"'"Quick, Gertrude!" A gleam of white shot over them, and a piercing
shriek mingled with one long resounding crash, and the glittering
crystal was plunged into the valley below, leaving nothing but bare
jagged rocks and stunted shrubs, where all was smooth and white but a
moment before. Months after, the bones of the fair English girl were
buried here,' continued friar Le-Bon.
"'And her husband?' I asked.
"'They brought him here, and it was terrible to see his agony. When he
grew stronger, we sent a novice with him to England; it would not do
to trust him by himself.'
"'You do not mean to say that his reason was gone?' I asked.
"'He was never rational after that morning,' replied the friar;
'muttering and moaning, and repeating the name of Gertrude constantly.
Carl left him with his friends, and we have never heard if he
recovered.'
"'And the lady?' asked pastor Ortler.
"'On calm, still days, and just before an avalanche,' said the kind
friar, 'her image is always seen standing upon the loftiest height,
beckoning with her white taper fingers to some one below.'
"Entertained with so much hospitality, we were loath to leave the
friendly hospice, only for the pastor's anxiety to reach home. Down
into the sweet valley of the Megringen, and northward by Grindenwald
and Thun, and up the steep heights over which falls the white foam of
Reichenbach; and farther on towards the crystal Rosenlani, and the
tall, still Engel Horner, we came to a little village cradled in
security beneath the towering hills; the church-spire glancing in the
sunlight, and the simple cottagers jubilant in welcoming home their
beloved pastor.
"At the door of the pastor's home we were met by a sweet-browed woman
with a lovely infant in her arms, crowing and laughing as the father
kissed it over and over again; while a boy of ten and a girl of six
summers, ran with open arms to greet him.
"'You stayed so long, papa.'
"'And we missed you so much,' after the first greeting.
"'This young friend was very ill; you would not have had me leave
him?'
"'Oh, no, papa, but'--when the little Griselda stopped suddenly, and
threw a half-defiant glance at my face, and Thorwald stood measuring
me with his great black eyes.
"Hardly recovered from my illness, I stayed with the good pastor
Ortler through Christmas week, and a month afterwards. Never did I
pass pleasanter days. The wife Rosalind was as kind as a sister, and
her children grew soon to like me as an old friend. Very simple was
their manner of life, while the air they breathed was fragrant with
the love they bore to Him who made and redeemed them, and who had in
his good providence, set them in a pleasant place.
"Christmas to them was not a week of jubilee alone. Busy hands
decorated the little church, and visits were made to the poor and
sick, and presents were given without the hope of reward. Sitting by
the parlor fire at night, the pastor told of the parishioners he had
seen, their wants and needs; while Rosalind knit stockings, and
fashioned garments.
"'It would seem that one so well fitted for society would tire of this
narrow bound,' I once said. With an eye brimming over with tenderness,
the pastor replied: 'There are souls to save here quite as precious as
anywhere else.' I felt humbled before his quiet glance. This was the
work for him to do; this was the work he loved. What matter in what
part of the vineyard? wherever there was a soul. But this mountain
grandeur pleased him. These quiet solitudes led him upward. The
glorious diadem of the hills was always urging him onward. Hard and
self-denying as his life, he had ample recompense in daily, hourly
communion with the Father through the majesty of his works."
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