A sarcastic smile overspread Anthony Sieberer's face, but it disappeared quickly when he happened to turn his eyes to the neighboring mountains. He looked keenly and searchingly toward the mountain-path leading to Mittewald. He saw there a small black speck which was advancing with great rapidity. Was it a bird? No, the speck had already become larger; he saw it was a human being—a woman speeding along the mountain-path. Now she was so close to them that he could distinguish her face; it was that of a young girl; her cheeks flushed, her eyes radiant; bold and intrepid as a chamois, she hastened forward; her long, black tresses were waving round her head, and her bosom heaved violently under the folds of her white corset.
Now, she stood still for a moment, and seemed to listen; then she bent far over the precipice, on the brink of which she was standing, and below which the Tyrolese were encamped. No sooner had she perceived them than she uttered a loud cry of exultation, and bounding forward, she exclaimed joyously: "There are the men of the Passeyr valley! Now I shall find their leader, Andreas Hofer, too!— Andreas Hofer where are you, Andreas Hofer?"
"Here I am!" shouted Andreas Hofer, starting up from his fervent prayer, and advancing a few steps.
The young girl gave a start on discovering the two men, who had hitherto been concealed from her by a large rock; but she looked at them searchingly, and did not seem to be frightened or anxious.
"Are you really Andreas Hofer" she asked, breathlessly.
"Ask him if I am," said Hofer, smiling and pointing to Sieberer.
"That is unnecessary," she replied calmly; "I see that you are Andreas Hofer. You look precisely as my father described you to me. There is the long beard, the crucifix, the saint's image on your breast; and there are the kind eyes, and the whole dear face. God bless you, Andreas Hofer! I bring you many cordial greetings from my father, Anthony Wallner-Aichberger."
"God bless you, maiden," exclaimed Andreas Hofer, holding out both his hands to her. Eliza took them, bent over Hofer's right hand, and imprinted a glowing kiss on it.
"Girl, what are you doing?" asked Hofer, blushing with confusion.
"I kiss the dear hand which the Lord has chosen to deliver the Tyrol," she said; "the dear hand which holds the rosary so piously and the sword so bravely; the hand into which my father laid his hand, as if on an altar, when he swore to God that he would assist in delivering the Tyrol from the enemy and restoring it to the emperor." "Look at this girl, Sieberer; how well she knows how to flatter me," exclaimed Andreas, smilingly patting her flushed cheek. "And you say your father sent you to me?"