The Emmett index. [volume] (Emmett, Idaho) 1893-1925, 1907-01-10
cHAPTER xxy-fcontinued.l

> sivtSc III Int pdSSdSt OulSluc. cry eau
tiously / opened my door and peeped out
bly, fathers door was the next 10 mine
rand between the two lay Reski in
great fur rug that he had. He wave'
his hand to me with little smile, as i
were a child he was bidding to be o
good courage. l slept undisturbed afte
that.
1t was as we took our place for
twelve o'clock dejeuner that we received
the second telegram. This is how i
read:
IF danger presses, communicate fully
police. We started on receipt of you
message, and will be at Thusis by three
Should be at Pontresina at one O'Clock
tonight. Order rooms.-Graden-"
called in Reski at once; for he hat
refused to have his meals with US, though
my father had invited him. He looked
very grave, indeed, when | translated tbs
message.
You sent no telegram, Fraulein|
NO, Herr Reski''
! Nor you, mein HERR"
NO Reski, no." said my father.
Then someone has sent il in your
name. | do not like it 1t would seem
trap"
/ "A trapT'
l stared at him with fear gathering
about my heart. Who had done this
thing? And why?
1T would seem, Fraulein, some scheme
of the old grey devil. What he intends,
cannot guess; nor can l think how he
discovered that we are here But there is
q thing plainly to do. l will start for
Thusis, to warn those who are hasten
Z ing to u.s."
Il will come with you, Reski," said
my father.
You know that cannot be- l have
no fear, with Reski to protect me. l
will go"
Love gives great strength to woman.
and | spoke as one who expects to be
obeyed. 1t was much trouble TO per-
sHade them; yet from the first | did not
mean to yield. Ny dear father had bare
Iy recovered from the fatigues Of his
long journey; TO let him take this drive
of forty miles would be the gravest folly.
Yet it was not right that we both should
leave our duty to a man of whom we
had no real knowledge. Mr. Harland and
his cousin had endangered their lives to
save US; now that peril seemed to be
closing round those gallant gentlemen.
we could not both sit idle. Plainly it
was l who should go.
And so at last il was agreed between
US.
1t was shortly after one o'clock when
Reski and l rumbled of in our post-car-
riage across the snOw-bound slopes of
the valley to Ponte. Then began a climb
of dreary monotoly. Up and up we drag
ged. turn after turn through forests of
larch and pine, with the Engadine grow
ing wider. and its houses sinking into
specks beneath US. At last we reached
the crest of the AIbuln Pass, and trotted
forward over the snow levels till we
plunged down the steep descent Of the
rock-strewn Devils Hall-as the noun
taineers named it of old. The sun had
set ere we ratified into Breda, and the
moon had swung out from the south ward
when Bergun was reached. Half an hour
later we had passed through the forests
into the shadows of that black and dan
gerous gorge-the Berguner Stein
Fresh snow had clogged the road on
the Albula, and We had made slow pro-
gress, TO our increasing anxiety 1t was
now impossible that we should reach
ThuSis before they started but we had
calculated that near Tiefenkasten we
might meet them. That the snow had
not fallen so deeply on the lower slopes. |
and that they had moved more quickly.
we could not know.
We had passed the last bend that turn
ed upward, leading in , long slope to
the entrance of the gorge, when we stop
ped suddenly. Reski sprang out; clam /
bering after. l found him by the driver. |
who was pointing with his whip up the /
road. The man had been warned to give 4
is notice of any approaching vehicle.
1T is a pOst-carriage," he said They /.
have stopped to breathe their team"
The road had been carved and joisted
,long the cliff side, and where we stood.
lnder the mighty wall of rock, the shad-
,ws were gathered darkly. To our left
he rugged barrier rose dimly into the
light. clear only where its battlements
,roke the pearl of the sky at some great
height above u.s. TO our right, a low stone
oping hid the grim uncertainties of the
,recipice. But fifty yards up the slope
he cliffs fell back, and the road stepped
nut into the silver moonlight, mounting
he hill, through border of stunted
rees. in a simple curve. as white and
veil defined as a chalk mark on a black
oard. On its crest l could see the patch
n the snow carpet that marked the wait
lg carriage. 1t was, perhaps, the half
f a mile away.