Being now in a part of the country but thinly inhabited, they could no longer meet with the hospitality which had lightened the trials of the first part of their journey.
The evening of the ninth day, when the snow was falling fast around them, and the hearts of the poor wanderers sank within them at the prospect of passing the night without food or shelter, a peasant overtook them as he was going to call in his goats from the hills. Too thankful were they to accept the good man's ready offer of shelter for the night in his humble cottage.
Help was thus once again sent at their utmost need, and fervently did they return thanks for it ere they retired to rest that night. To poor Katherine it was most welcome. Their spirits were still further revived by learning from their kind host, who had not only afforded them shelter, but such food as he was able to supply, that they were only two leagues from Sternfelden, and that the Count was at his castle there.
There was still a weary walk for the exhausted party, as they resolved to leave Pedro with the good peasant. He was too lame to be of any further use to them, and it would have been cruel to use the poor beast further. They were, therefore, glad to leave it in good hands. The peasant promised to take every care of it, which in some degree reconciled the boys to the loss of their favourite.
Cheered and encouraged by the prospect of reaching Sternfelden, they started early the following day. They were told they had a valley and mountain between them and their journey's end, but they did not now despair of reaching it.
The fatigue, however, seemed almost beyond poor Katherine's strength, and ere they had reached the summit of the mountain, by the rugged path which led over it, she sank exhausted on the ground.
"Gaspard," she said, "I can go no further. Leave me, and go on with the children."
"My poor wife!" said he, whilst tears ran down his pale, wan face, "we are near our journeys end. Rest for a while; we will then try to go on. Oh, surely our troubles will soon end!"
Katherine seemed unable to reply, but leant against her husband, who had seated himself by her, as if to support her; whilst poor little Francis put his cold hands round her neck, and kissed away the tears which now fell fast, saying as he did so, "Do not cry, dear, good mother; we shall soon get home. God will lead us there."
"Yes, yes, dear child," exclaimed Gaspard, raising his eyes to heaven, "you are right. It is six years this very day since I saved you from death. To-morrow is your poor mother's birthday. Oh let us still hope that God will be merciful to us now, as He was then."