They went, and were warmly complimented by the chief magistrate and the fathers of the city upon their great discovery, following which they were invited to choose what specimens they liked.
They chose so very modestly that the selection was more than doubled, and in due time reached Old England’s shores, to add lustre to several collections and museums.
Dale kept his word about Pierre, and quietly incited Saxe to make him a present when they went away.
“Because he doesn’t deserve it,” said Saxe, who also made a point of giving the unfortunate cretin an object which set his eyes rolling with delight every time it was taken out. This was a large knife with a collection of odds and ends stored in the handle: toothpick, lancet blade, tweezers, screwdriver, horse-hoof picker, and corkscrew, the latter being, as Saxe said, so likely to prove useful.
A month later, after a warm parting from old Andregg and his wife, who made her apron quite wet with tears, and insisted upon presenting Saxe with a very nasty-smelling cheese of her own make, the little party journeyed back through the various valleys, and on to the lovely lake of deep waters, where the mountains rose up like walls on either side, and then on and on to Waldberg, whence they were to start next day for home.
And then came the parting from the guide—the brave, faithful companion of many months.
“And now, Melchior!” said Dale, “I want you to accept this, not as payment, but as a gift from one friend to another—a present to the man whose hand was always ready to save us in perilous times.”
“That, herr!” said Melchior. “No, no: you have paid me nobly, and it has not been work, but a pleasure journey with two friends.”
“Nonsense, man: take it.”
“But, herr!” cried Melchior. “That watch for a poor Swiss guide!—it is gold!”