SEELCHEN. All the beds are full--it is a pity. I will call Mother. LAMOND. I've come to go up the Great Horn at sunrise. SEELCHEN. [Awed] The Great Horn! But he is impossible. LAMOND. I am going to try that. SEELCHEN. There is the Wine Horn, and the Cow Horn. LAMOND. I have climbed them. SEELCHEN. But he is so dangerous--it is perhaps--death. LAMOND. Oh! that's all right! One must take one's chance. SEELCHEN. And father has hurt his foot. For guide, there is only Mans Felsman. LAMOND. The celebrated Felsman? SEELCHEN. [Nodding; then looking at him with admiration] Are you that Herr Lamond who has climbed all our little mountains this year? LAMOND. All but that big fellow. SEELCHEN. We have heard of you. Will you not wait a day for father's foot? LAMOND. Ah! no. I must go back home to-morrow. SEELCHEN. The gracious Sir is in a hurry. LAMOND. [Looking at her intently] Alas! SEELCHEN. Are you from London? Is it very big? LAMOND. Six million souls. SEELCHEN. Oh! [After a little pause] I have seen Cortina twice. LAMOND. Do you live here all the year? SEELCHEN. In winter in the valley. LAMOND. And don't you want to see the world? SEELCHEN. Sometimes. [Going to a door, she calls softly] Hans! [Then pointing to another door] There are seven German gentlemen asleep in there! LAMOND. Oh God! SEELCHEN. Please? They are here to see the sunrise. [She picks up a little book that has dropped from LAMOND'S pocket] I have read several books. LAMOND. This is by the great English poet. Do you never make poetry here, and dream dreams, among your mountains? SEELCHEN. [Slowly shaking her head] See! It is the full moon. While they stand at the window looking at the moon, there enters a lean, well-built, taciturn young man dressed in Loden. SEELCHEN. Hans! FELSMAN. [In a deep voice] The gentleman wishes me? SEELCHEN. [Awed] The Great Horn for to-morrow! [Whispering to him] It is the celebrated London one. FELSMAN. The Great Horn is not possible. LAMOND. You say that? And you're the famous Felsman? FELSMAN. [Grimly] We start at dawn. SEELCHEN. It is the first time for years! LAMOND. [Placing his plaid and rucksack on the window bench] Can I sleep here? SEELCHEN. I will see; perhaps-- [She runs out up some stairs] FELSMAN. [Taking blankets from the cupboard and spreading them on the window seat] So! As he goes out into the air. SEELCHEN comes slipping in again with a lighted candle. SEELCHEN. There is still one bed. This is too hard for you. LAMOND. Oh! thanks; but that's all right. SEELCHEN. To please me! LAMOND. May I ask your name? SEELCHEN. Seelchen. LAMOND. Little soul, that means--doesn't it? To please you I would sleep with seven German gentlemen. SEELCHEN. Oh! no; it is not necessary. CHEN. Yes. yes! I want him. H LAMOND. [With a grave bow] At your service, then. [He prepares to go]