“But this is a larger cave, herr; and besides, it is the entrance to the one where I journeyed down.”
“Can’t you settle yourself for a quiet day, Melchior?” said Dale, smiling.
“No, herr; I do not seem to be earning my money. It will be a very easy walk, and we can take the lanthorn and another candle; besides, it is quite fresh. I do not think any one has ever been in it but me.”
“What do you say, Saxe?”
“That I should like to go,” cried the lad eagerly; for half a day of comparative inaction had been sufficient to weary him, surrounded as he was by such a region of enchantment, where, turn which way he would, there was some temptation to explore.
“I am in the minority,” said Dale, smiling; “but I mean to have my own way. No: I shall keep to my previous arrangements. To-day we will rest. To-morrow, if the weather is good, I’m going up to the bare face of that mountain on the other side of the glacier.”
“The Bergstock,” said Melchior. “Yes, it is one of the places I mean to take you to, herr; for the gletscher winds round behind it, and I hope you will find what you want there.”
“I’m not half so eager to find crystals now, Melk,” said Saxe that evening, as he sat beside the guide, glad that the day of inaction was at an end.
“Why so?” asked Melchior.
“Because we don’t find any, I suppose.”