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It made you feel yourself a man a devil of a fellow. Don't you remember how timid she was, how she tried to avoid you, how she would dodge into anybody's chalet rather than meet you?" "But how do you know?" demanded Bartelommeo, waking into resentful appreciation of Pietro's close acquaintance with his wooing. "Because I married Lola two years earlier.
"What in the world are you talking about?" she asked, with a calm severity that her fluttering heart denied. Spencer laughed so happily that Pietro, who understood no word of what his voyageurs were saying, gave Bartelommeo a sapient wink.
The stones started an avalanche, and the roar of the tremendous cascade of snow and rock was distinctly audible. Pietro uttered an exclamation, and hastily unslung a telescope. He said something in a low tone to Bartelommeo; but Spencer and Helen grasped its meaning. The girl's eyes dilated with terror. "There has been an accident!" she whispered.
The snow lay deep on the Roseg, and roping was essential, though Pietro undertook to avoid any difficult crevasses. He led, Spencer followed, with Helen next, and Bartelommeo last. They reached the opposite moraine in half an hour, and began to climb steadily. The rock which looked so forbidding from the hut was by no means steep and not at all dangerous.
Bartelommeo took the telescope in his turn and evidently agreed with the leading guide. "A party has fallen on Corvatsch," said Pietro gravely. "Two men are clinging to a ledge. It is not a bad place; but they cannot move. They must be injured, and there may be others below." "Let us go to their assistance," said Spencer instantly. "Per certo, sigñor. That is the law of the hills. But the sigñora?
He looked at the clean cut crest of the rock, glowing now in vivid sunlight. Argument was not required; he pointed silently with the stem of his pipe. "Yes," murmured Pietro. "We couldn't have a better day for the pass. It is not the weather." "Then what is it?" asked Bartelommeo, moved to speech. "She is going the other way. Didn't you catch the tears in her voice yesterday?
Guide Pietro was somewhat a philosopher. Stamping about on the tiny stone plateau of the hut to keep at bay the cold mists from the glacier, he happened to glance through the open door. He drew away instantly. "Bartelommeo," he said to his companion, "we shall not cross the Sella to-day with our charming voyageur." Bartelommeo was surprised.
He would stay at Roseg, he said, to make certain that everything possible was done for the unfortunate climber. Indeed, when his beloved was lost to sight down the winding road that leads to the main valley of the Engadine, he accompanied the men who went to the Mortel. Halfway they met Pietro and Bartelommeo carrying Bower on an improvised stretcher, ice axes and a blanket.
Women are all the same, no matter what country they hail from nervous as young chamois before marriage but after! Body of Bacchus! Was it on Wednesday that Caterina hauled you out of the albergo to chop firewood?" Bartelommeo grunted, and put his pipe in his mouth again.
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