Full of impatience, Rico stood at the station long before the appointed
time, and could scarcely be quiet while waiting for the train. Again he
took his seat in the carriage, as he had done three years before, but
not now crouched timidly in a corner with his violin in his hand. He
took a whole seat for himself this time; for he placed his portmanteau
and his basket next him, and they took up a deal of room. He met the
horse-dealer in Bergamo without difficulty, and they travelled along in
the same carriage together, and then across the lake. When they left the
boat they went towards the inn, where the big post-wagon stood with the
horses already harnessed. It all came back to Rico's memory with great
distinctness,--how he had stood there in the night, quite alone, after
the students had all gone their ways; and opposite he espied the
stable-door where he had seen the lantern hanging, and had found the
friendly sheep-dealer again. It was evening now; and they took their
places at once in the coach, and went towards the mountain. Rico sat
within, this time, with his companion, and had scarcely settled himself
comfortably in his corner when his eyes closed and he slept; for he had
not slept an hour on the preceding night, so great had been his
excitement. Now he made it up, without once awakening, until the sun
stood high in the heavens, and the coach moved very slowly; and when he
stuck his head out of the window, he saw, to his utter astonishment,
that they were ascending the zigzag road up the Maloja, that was so
familiar to him from his childhood.
He could not see much from the window,--only a turning in the road now
and then; but now he did want to see everything that lay about them. At
last the coach stopped: they had reached the summit. There was the inn,
there the spot where he had sat and talked with the driver. All the
passengers got out for a moment, and the horses were fed. Rico also
descended, and asked very humbly of the driver if he might be allowed to
take a seat on the box with him.
"Will you let me climb up there, and ride as far as Sils?" he asked.
"Up with you!" said the coachman. They all took their places, and
merrily rolled the coach down the smooth road and along the level way.
Now they reached the lake. Yonder lay the wooded peninsula, and there
the white houses of Sils, and beyond was Sils Maria. The little church
shone in the morning sunshine, and over towards the mountain were two
cottages. Rico's heart began to beat wildly. Where was Stineli? A few
steps farther, and the coach stood still in Sils.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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