During the whole afternoon M. Filbert talked incessantly with his new-found interpreter, and Alaric seemed almost as excited as he. At length the former, casting a dubious glance at the lads, asked, with an apologetic manner, if they were well provided with clothing.
"Only what you see, monsieur," answered Alaric. "Everything else we have lost."
"Ah! is it so? Then must you be provided with the habiliments necessary. If you will kindly give the instructions?"
So the carriage was ordered to a shoe-shop and an outfitting establishment, where both lads, to Bonny's further bewilderment, were provided with complete suits of rough but warm and serviceable clothing, including two pairs of walking-boots, one of which was very heavy and had hob-nailed soles.
These last purchases were not concluded until after sunset, and with them the business of the day was ended. With many parting injunctions to Alaric, and a polite bon nuit to both lads, M. Filbert was driven back to the hotel, leaving his newly engaged assistants to their own devices for the time being.
"Now," said Bonny, "if you haven't forgotten how to talk United States, perhaps you will explain what all this means—what we are engaged to do, what our wages are to be, and where we are bound? Are we to turn gold-hunters or Indian-fighters, or is it something in the exploring line?"
"I expect," laughed Alaric, "it is to be more in the climbing line."
"Climbing?"
"Yes. Do you see that mountain over there?" Here Alaric pointed to the lofty snow-capped peak of Mount Rainier, still rose-tinted with sunlight, and rising in awful grandeur high above all other summits of the Cascade range, nearly fifty miles from where they stood.
"Certainly. I can't help seeing it."