Melchior’s Adventure.
Saxe woke the next morning with a start, and, as full recollection came, he looked round at where Melchior lay; but he was not there. Dale was, however, sleeping soundly; and creeping silently out, so as not to awaken him, Saxe found, to his surprise, that the guide was seated by the fire, feeding it carefully and sparingly with sticks, so as to get all the flame to bear upon the coffee kettle; and, to Saxe’s great delight, he seemed to be much as usual.
“Why, Melk,” he said, “I was afraid you would be very bad.”
“I? Oh no, herr. I was very bad last night, and it was hard work to get back here; but the sleep did me good. You see, we mountain people get used to being knocked about, and I am not much hurt.”
“But—”
“Yes, I’ll tell you presently, when the master is awake: it is not pleasant to talk about twice. Here he is.”
“Why, Melchior, man, you surprise me!” cried Dale, shaking hands warmly. “Here have I been dreaming all night about a long journey to fetch a chaise à porteurs to carry you down, and here you are just as usual.”
“Yes, herr; and the coffee will be ready by the time you have had your bath.”
“But I want to know—”
“Yes, herr, I’ll tell you soon;” and a very, very short time after, as they sat round their meal, Melchior went on sipping his coffee and eating his bacon, as if he had never been in peril in his life; while the others, in spite of the hunger produced by the keen mountain air, could hardly partake of a morsel from the excitement they felt as the guide told of his mishap.