Gretli laughed. “Not so, mademoiselle! Probably Atli has set his foot on a stone at the bottom of the Alp; possibly there has been no sound at all, and Tell knows because he knows, all simply. Soon you will hear the goats; they have less intelligence, you understand.”
Sure enough, a few minutes later came bleatings, at first faint and scattered, then gathering in strength and volume, till at last the whole herd, Bimbo leading, Moufflon bringing up the rear, came scampering over the rocks and formed in an eager huddle on the greensward, facing the climbing path. Again a few minutes, and an object appeared, at sight of which a perfect chorus of bleats broke out, while the barking of Tell grew louder and more eager. First the top, then the whole, of a green pointed hat; then a brown, ruddy, smiling face; then a pair of massive shoulders; finally the whole (which means a great deal) of Atli.
“Atli comes!” repeated the brother and sister in happy duet, and both hastened out, with a glance of smiling apology at the young guest who could not follow, could only gaze with all her eyes from her window, could only thrill through all her being at the really splendid vision of the young giant. It was as if one of her mountains had taken human shape and come a-visiting; only, no mountain could look so friendly or smile so kindly. She could hear the eager questions, the gay laughing answers. Had all gone well? Was the clover sufficient? Were the children content with the pasture?
“My faith, yes! they might well be. The clover is thick as—as thy hair, my Gretli! Not one of them but desired two mouths that she might eat the faster.”
“La Dumaine led the way well? But why do I ask? Surely she did!”
Atli nodded emphatically.
“She is a queen indeed! There is no such leader in these Alps. Once only that one—” a jerk of the head conveyed, somehow, one could not tell how, that “that one” was the Duchess of Montbazon—“tried to push ahead, and got a thrust in the side from our Queen’s horn that sent her back roaring, I promise you. Saperli poppette! in the home yard La Dumaine is the gentille demoiselle, see you; on the Alp she is General as well as Queen.”
“And thou hast left Jean and François in charge? Didst sleep in the hut? All was well?”
“All well, my sister! except—I have brought the appetite of a wolf! But who is that at the window? Tiens! the little mademoiselle with golden hair! How then, my sister?”
“Zitli will tell you!” cried Gretli. “I must prepare supper on the instant. Hast had nothing, I’ll warrant, for a day and a half, but bread and cheese, and I stand here chattering!”