The stock dealer did not fail to join Rico at Bergamo, and they both enjoyed the lovely daylight sail on Lake Como. The boy recognized the place where they landed and also the inn where they took the stage. He looked especially for the door of the stable, where the lantern had shown him the way to the coachman on his former trip. He had not at that time been able to see his surroundings very clearly.
The sun had set when the stage left the inn, so Rico entered the coach with his companion. He fell asleep almost immediately and did not wake until morning, when the sun was shining over the mountain tops. To his great surprise and joy he found that they were going up the zigzag road of the Maloja, so familiar to him. He could, however, see nothing but the sharp angles in the road, until they arrived at the summit, where they alighted for breakfast and to give the horses a rest. After breakfast Rico looked for the place where he sat years ago, when he was a tired and hungry little boy. He remembered distinctly how he had watched the stage which later picked him up and took him down the valley. Everything about him was of interest now, and he said to the coachman, "Will it trouble you if I sit up there with you so that I can see better?"
"Certainly not," said the man; "come up if you want to."
The passengers had already taken their places in the coach, and it was but a moment later when they started at a lively pace down the long, sloping grade. Rico presently saw the lake, the island with its pine trees, and beyond, the white houses of Sils. Across the fields was Sils-Maria. The little church showed up most distinctly at that distance, but Rico's eyes were searching for something farther down the hill; soon he saw, as he had hoped, the two familiar houses.
Rico's heart began to beat wildly. Where and how would he find the little girl he had not seen for years? Suppose she should not be there any longer? Suppose she had forgotten him? It seemed but a moment before the stage stopped in Sils, and Rico alighted with his luggage.
Stineli had seen many hard days since Rico's disappearance. The children had grown older, so that they were less care, but the work, especially since the grandmother had died, had fallen more than ever upon her. The children were wont to say, "Stineli is the oldest, so she can do that," and the parents often said, "Stineli is young and strong, so she can do that"; thus the willing hands were kept busy. She sorely missed Rico and the grandmother, the only ones who had ever regarded her comfort, but she tried hard to keep her cheerful nature uppermost, although she often thought, "The world is not the same now that they are gone."
On this sunny Saturday morning Stineli came out of the granary with a bundle of straw which she intended to braid into a broom. As she reached the path leading to Sils, she let her eyes follow along the dry, smooth way until her glance was arrested by the appearance of a strange young man coming in her direction. She knew from his dress that he was not a Silsan. He came more rapidly as soon as he noticed her and when quite close, stopped and looked at her. She glanced inquiringly at his face and immediately recognized her long-lost friend. Dropping her bundle, she ran to him, exclaiming: "O Rico, you are not dead after all! How glad I am to see you! How very tall you have grown! I would never have known you if it had not been for your face; nobody else has a face like yours. O Rico, how glad I am that you are here again!"
Rico was pale,—the joy seemed too great,—and he had not been able to say one word. Stineli stood blushing in her pride of him, and waited for him to speak.
"You have grown, too, Stineli," he said at length; "otherwise you are the same as ever. The nearer I got to the house the more afraid I became that you would be different, so that it would not seem the same here."
"O Rico, if only grandmother could know!" said Stineli. "But I must take you to the others; they will all be so astonished to see you."