“No,” she added; “the bones of the dead dance there by night.”
“And that’s not all,” said the mountaineer.
All were silent, as if they dared not go on.
“Well,” asked Ordener, “what else is there that is supernatural?”
“Young man,” said the mountaineer, gravely, “you should not speak so lightly; when you see an old gray wolf like me, shudder.”
The young man answered, with a gentle smile: “Still, I should like to know all the marvels which occur in this Walderhog cave; for that is exactly where I am going.”
These words seemed to turn his three hearers into stone.
“To Walderhog! Heavens! are you going to Walderhog?”
“And he says that,” rejoined the fisherman, “just as I might say I’m going to Loevig to sell my codfish, or to Ralph’s meadow for herring. To Walderhog! Great Heavens!”
“Poor young man!” cried the wife; “were you born without a guardian angel? Have you no patron saint? Alas! it must be so; for you do not even seem to know your own name.”