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Updated: May 6, 2025
No one knew its exact nature, but now and again, in long years, some one going to Dalgrothe Mountain was seized by it, and died, or was left stricken with a great loss of the senses, or the limbs. Yet once or twice, they said, men had come up from it no worse at all.
"Elise!" he said sentimentally, and drank. The blacksmith kissed his daughter, and his hand rested on her head as he lifted the cup, but he said never a word. Parpon took one sip, then poured his liquor upon the ground, as though down there was what he loved best; but his eyes were turned to Dalgrothe Mountain, which he could see through the open door.
At last she fell asleep in her chair, but Parpon and his mother slept not at all. Now and again the dwarf went to the door and looked out at the night, so still, and full of the wonder of growth and rest. Far up on Dalgrothe Mountain a soft brazen light lay like a shield against the sky, a strange, hovering thing.
She was passing a hot iron over some coarse sheets, and, pausing, she looked steadily at him and replied: "It is not far to Dalgrothe Mountain, monsieur." "The journey's too long for me; I haven't your hot young blood," he said suggestively. "It was not so long a dozen years ago, monsieur." De la Riviere flushed to his hair.
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