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Updated: June 25, 2025
"Schwein-hund!" he was saying, "if any evil befalls the fräulein, I shall drive my ax between your shoulder blades." There was no reply. Spencer was sure he was not mistaken. Though the guide spoke German, he knew enough of that language to understand this comparatively simple sentence. Quite as amazing as Stampa's threat was Bower's silent acceptance of it.
He nearly killed a lady whom he was bringing to the hotel, and was dismissed in consequence. Now he is guide to an American gentleman. My God! but they are droll, the Americans!" The maid laughed, and created a clatter with basin and hot water can. Millicent, forcing herself to eat quickly, continued to gaze after the pair. The description of Stampa's employer interested her.
He might so contrive matters that Helen should be far removed from Stampa's dangerous presence before the threatened disclosure was made. Yes, a wary prudence in speech and action might accomplish much. Surely he dared match his brain against a peasant's. "Very well," he said, "I shall accompany you.
Spencer was about to join him for a chat, when he recollected that Bower and the guide had an arrangement to meet in the morning. With the memory came a queer jumble of impressions. Stampa's story, told overnight, was a sad one; but the American was too fair minded to affect a moral detestation of Bower because of a piece of folly that wrecked a girl's life sixteen years ago.
At first she was at a loss to fathom the cause of Stampa's delight, and still less to understand why he should want to thank her with such exuberance. She imagined he was overjoyed at having gone back to his beloved profession, and it was only by dint of questioning that she discovered the truth. Then it dawned on her that the man had been goaded to desperation by the curt message from St.
Her eyes sparkled. Her well modulated voice was hardly under control. Five thousand pounds was a great deal of money; but the tragedy of Etta Stampa's life might have been worth more. How could she find out the whole truth? She must accomplish that, in some way. Therein, however, she greatly miscalculated. Bower divined her thought almost before it was formed.
Though she meant to go at once to the village, it would be a point gained if she was certain of Stampa's identity. She was already veiled and befurred when Léontine returned. Yes, Marie had given her full information. Madam had heard, perhaps, how Herr Bower and the pretty English mademoiselle were in danger of being snowed up in the Forno hut yesterday.
"I was talking to the sigñorina," he explained, using his native tongue, for he was born on the Italian side of the Bernina. "That counts, but it gives no good reason why he should risk her life," objected Spencer. Stampa's weather furrowed cheeks reddened. "There was no danger," he muttered wrathfully. "Madonna! I would lose the use of another limb rather than hurt a hair of her head.
"If I were Stampa's son, if that dead girl were my sister, how would I settle with Bower?" he asked, clenching his pipe firmly between his teeth. "Well, I could only ask God to be merciful both to him and to me." "Good gracious, Mr. Spencer! why that fierce gaze at our delightful valley?" came the voice of Mrs. de la Vere.
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