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Page 46

The small single-trucked railway carriages bumped and rattled up
the mountain sides, always rising, always winding. There were
moments when the track held to the cliffs only by gigantic
fingers of steel, while far below were peaceful valleys and
pink-and-blue houses and churches with gilded spires. There were
vistas of snow-peak and avalanche shed, and always there were
tunnels. Marie, so wise in some things, was a child in others;
she slid close to Stewart in the darkness and touched him for
comfort.

"It is so dark," she apologized, "and it frightens me, the
mountain heart. In your America, have you so great mountains?"

Stewart patted her hand, a patronizing touch that sent her blood
racing.

"Much larger," he said magnificently. "I haven't seen a hill in
Europe I'd exchange for the Rockies. And when we cross the
mountains there we use railway coaches. These toy railroads are a
joke. At home we'd use 'em as street-cars."

"Really! I should like to see America."

"So should I."

The conversation was taking a dangerous trend. Mention of America
was apt to put the Herr Doktor in a bad humor or to depress him,
which was even worse. Marie, her hand still on his arm and not
repulsed, became silent.

At a small way station the three Germans in the compartment left
the train. Stewart, lowering a window, bought from a boy on the
platform beer and sausages and a bag of pretzels. As the train
resumed its clanking progress they ate luncheon, drinking the
beer from the bottles and slicing the sausage with a penknife. It
was a joyous trip, a red-letter day in the girl's rather sordid
if not uneventful life. The Herr Doktor was pleased with her. He
liked her hat, and when she flushed with pleasure demanded proof
that she was not rouged. Proof was forthcoming. She rubbed her
cheeks vigorously with a handkerchief and produced in triumph its
unreddened purity.

"Thou suspicious one!" she pouted. "I must take off the skin to
assure thee! When the Herr Doktor says no rouge, I use none."

"You're a good child." He stooped over and kissed one scarlet
cheek and then being very comfortable and the beer having made
him drowsy, he put his head in her lap and slept.

When he awakened they were still higher. The snow-peak towered
above and the valleys were dizzying! Semmering was getting near.
They were frequently in darkness; and between the tunnels were
long lines of granite avalanche sheds. The little passage of the
car was full of tourists looking down.

"We are very close, I am sure," an American girl was saying just
outside the doorway. "See, isn't that the Kurhaus? There, it is
lost again."

The tourists in the passage were Americans and the girl who had
spoken was young and attractive. Stewart noticed them for the
first time and moved to a more decorous distance from Marie.

Marie Jedlicka took her cue and lapsed into silence, but her
thoughts were busy. Perhaps this girl was going to Semmering also
and the Herr Doktor would meet her. But that was foolish! There
were other resorts besides Semmering, and in the little villa to
which they went there would be no Americans. It was childish to
worry about a girl whose back and profile only she had seen. Also
profiles were deceptive; there was the matter of the ears.
Marie's ears were small and set close to her head. If the
American Fraulein's ears stuck out or her face were only short
and wide! But no. The American Fraulein turned and glanced once
swiftly into the compartment. She was quite lovely.

Stewart thought so, too. He got up with a great show of
stretching and yawning and lounged into the passage. He did not
speak to the girl; Marie noted that with some comfort. But
shortly after she saw him conversing easily with a male member of
the party. Her heart sank again. Life was moving very fast for
Marie Jedlicka that afternoon on the train.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Tue 23rd Dec 2025, 5:33

The Street of Seven Stars by Mary Roberts Rinehart