"No, you go," Franz urged.
"Very well."
The giant opened the stable door, braced against the wind, slipped into his skis, closed the door and was gone. Franz huddled very close to Caesar while the four cows stamped and munched. He shuddered, not in fear but with awe. This was what winter in St. Bernard Pass truly meant. The wind that sounded inside the stable as a doleful moan, was a screaming demon outside. A strong man would have to struggle just to stand against it.
Twenty minutes later, the stable door opened and Anton came back. He carried a bowl and a dish.
"I have brought your supper, little Franz, for you must remain here," he said. "There is very great trouble. Father Stephen has only now come into the refectory. He is almost spent. A traveler missing from the rest house has not arrived at the Hospice and Father Stephen has been searching for him."
"What now?" Franz asked, with some alarm.
Anton replied, "We all go, little Franz. The Fathers and the maronniers alike, all search for that traveler until he is found. That is our only reason for being here."
"I will eat quickly and be ready at once," Franz said.
Anton smiled gently. "Not you, little Franz. You stay here."
"It was Caesar and I who found Emil Gottschalk!" Franz asserted. "We've searched for lost travelers before!"