Zrinyi let the words sink into the silence, then he raised his voice again and shouted that barrels of wine were opening in the kitchen, and the great wave turned upon itself and rolled out, but still in silence and with many a backward glance. Ranata ascended the stairs. When she returned she wore a short skirt and a long fur cloak with a hood. “I am going for a walk,” she said to the astonished company. “Mr. Abbott, will you come with me?” Then to the Princess Sarolta, who had risen, she added, “No power can prevent me. But do not be alarmed; I shall return.” “Do you give me your royal word for that?” asked the alarmed Obersthofmeisterin, “otherwise, old and lame as I am, I shall follow you.” “I give you my word. You may sleep in peace.” XXVI Fessenden and Ranata walked rapidly and in silence over the paths the mountain peasants had trodden that night. There had been neither wind nor snow for many days, and what had fallen was compact and not too smooth for impatient feet. For a time the path was straight, and, looking back, the irregular mass of the castle on its isolated rock was the one dark object in the white radiance of the Alpine world. Soon, however, a sharp turn about the foot of one of the peaks that rose straight from the brief level seemed to fling them abruptly into an eternity of ice-fields and endless chains of glittering crests so high above that their fierce teeth must surely bite new pictures into the moon that hung so close. Ranata’s arm was within his, but Fessenden’s mind reverted to his boyhood in the Adirondacks, when he had stolen forth to his balcony on winter moonlight nights to gaze upon the snowy lake and peaks, and dream of their kin in the far-off Alps. How tame that picture seemed to-night, dear as it was! That was a mild and pleasant wilderness compared with this upper firmament of ice and desolation, with its black forests below and on high its masses of rock and crag that looked as if arrested in brutal warfare with each other. In the course of an hour the path came abruptly to an end on the shore of a small lake, from three sides of which the mountains rose like the straight and jealous sides of a mighty jewel casket guarding the diamond treasure of some old god of the hills. The lake, looking smaller perhaps from the great height of the perpendicular mountains surrounding it, was oval in shape, and its frozen surface glittered and sparkled under the moon poised directly above. No light of man had ever drawn such radiance from the diamond. The air was so still that the cold was hardly noticeable. The silence was intense, oppressive, now that their feet no longer met the snow crisply. Ranata put her hand nervously to her head. “What are you thinking of?” she asked.