There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. This was not exactly what the woollen-draper desired. "Mercy on us!" cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his frame. . The stranger started at the touch, and spoke. ’ ‘Do you take me for a fool, Hilary?’ demanded his betrothed. “One day,” he resumed, “we will start off early and come down into Kandersteg and up these zigzags and here and here, and so past this Daubensee to a tiny inn—it won’t be busy yet, though; we may get it all to ourselves—on the brim of the steepest zigzag you can imagine, thousands of feet of zigzag; and you will sit and eat lunch with me and look out across the Rhone Valley and over blue distances beyond blue distances to the Matterhorn and Monte Rosa and a long regiment of sunny, snowy mountains. "You know this is a pet project. ’ Hilary eyed him. ‘Tell me the truth, Melusine.
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