"Inaccessible do you call the Wolkenstein?" asked Waltenberg. "That only means that no one has yet ascended it. It can be subdued, that haughty peak."
"Hitherto no one has subdued it, however," Erna replied. "Several have ventured up through the rocks to the foot of the topmost cliff, but there every one has been stayed; even my father, who was not easily daunted by any ascent and pursued the chamois to the highest summits, often declared, 'The Wolkenstein peak is inaccessible.'"
Ernst looked up at the peak, now only partially visible, and smiled: "Do you know, Fräulein Thurgau, your description tempts me to venture the ascent?"
She looked up at him in dismay: "Herr Waltenberg, you would not----?"
"Climb the Wolkenstein peak? At least I shall attempt it."
"Impossible! You are jesting."
"Do you think so? I hope to prove to you that I am in earnest."
"But why? What for?"
"Why does one undertake any adventure? Because the danger excites; because it is a victory, a triumph, to achieve the apparently impossible."
"And if this triumph should cost you your life? You would not be the first victim of the peak. Ask Sepp; he can tell you a sad story."