"Why, it's Rudolf!" exclaimed Franz, relieved.
"Franz!" cried Rudolf, in alarm and displeasure. "What are you about here?"
"What are you about, you mean?" retorted Franz. "One question's as good as another. To whom are you carrying that basket?"
"That's no matter of yours!"
"I know. You can have but one object, and that's to go to the Sandwirth."
"Look ye, Franz," said Rudolf, boiling over with rage, and setting down his burthen: "this won't do to go any further. Who are you, to interfere with my objects, whatsoever they may be? We'll have it out on this spot. I've got on my wrestling-ring;" exhibiting a very thick silver ring on the little finger of his right hand; "and, if you choose to persist in this matter, we'll try a fall together, and I'll pitch you afterwards into the bottomless lake."
As Rudolf suited the action to the word, by flourishing his fists and bounding towards him, Franz stepped aside in affright. He knew that the loss of an eye, an ear, or a nose, often resulted from these national combats; and his fear of Rudolf's prowess was such, that nothing short of death, to his belief, would ensue to him if he accepted the challenge. As for the bottomless lake,—which was a sullen piece of water in a neighbouring basin, reported to be fed by no springs and have no outlet for its waters; to be uninfluenced by the winds, and, when affronted by having anything cast into it, to blow up little tempests and thunder-storms of its own,—Franz had a profound horror of it, and was at this moment very unwillingly detained in its vicinity.
Therefore, succumbing before Rudolf at once, he querulously cried—
"Saints alive, man! what are you dreaming of? Who wants to be pitched into the bottomless lake? Not I, for one, I can tell you, this cold weather; and as for wrestling, I hope there are better ways of warming one's self than that. I don't care where you're going, not I,—rather you than me, on a January night! You take your course, and leave me alone to take mine; the mountain's free to us both, I suppose." Saying which, he walked off very fast.
Rudolf was terribly vexed. He was pretty sure that Franz was hunting for the Sandwirth, and on the right track, and would probably return and ferret it out. After a few minutes' painful thought, he resolved not to be instrumental to it, if he could help it; and therefore went considerably out of his way, in order that his footprints might lead Franz astray, if he endeavoured to follow the trail.