“What grotto?”
“The Venushoehle.”
“Is there a grotto of Venus?”
“Yes! that is its name; I don’t know why; you must not go down the mountain without seeing it.”
Uneasy and almost jealous, I wanted to know whether many strangers came to see this grotto, whose name alone had made me quiver.
The young girl sadly replied—
“No one! You see the mountain is not lofty enough to tempt climbers, and it is too high for walkers. Occasionally at very distant intervals a sportsman from Essenach comes to lunch or to spend the night here; but you are the first Frenchman I have seen since my birth.”
“Which is the way to the grotto?”
“Take the path to the left. You will get there in five minutes. Perhaps you will find at the entrance a man seated upon a stone. Pay no attention to what he says: he is mad.”