We left the glacier, and ascending again to the hospice of Montanvert, I sat down by the side of Franz upon a block of granite, and looked again upon a scene the equal of which I never expect to see again. There was a far away look in Franz's eyes. Was he thinking of the little cottage far up the mountain, and of Annette watching by the bedside of his sick father? Perhaps so; in any case I was glad that we had taken him. His could not be an everyday story, there must be some particular motive why he should want so earnestly to come. I would not question him then; but I determined to stop at the little cottage and learn for myself. With all the untold glory above and beneath me, I felt oppressed with the littleness, as well as the greatness of my nature. How insignificant I appeared amid these gigantic forms; and still I exulted in the consciousness that "My Father made them all, that Father with whom I could commune, and whose Son I was privileged to love." "And this God is our God," I was constrained to say aloud. Franz turned his speaking eye upon me. "If it was not for this, how could we endure it?" he said, while there was a grave, calm look on his face, so little to be expected in a guide. "How could we endure this grandeur, or our own littleness?" I asked. "To know that God rules, giving each his place, to the mountains theirs, and to us ours. Insignificant we may be, and still we are each of us of more value than all the mountains in the universe. Jesus created mountains; but he died for us." "Where did you learn this, Franz?" "From the Bible, sir." I saw it all; the Bible was the textbook he had studied. It was this which had given him that rare expression of face, and the words so far above the condition of life indicated by the little hamlet where he lived. There was no more time, for the sun was going down, and we must go with it; and rising, we began to make the descent. The moon was full orbed before we reached the cottage. I was weary beyond the power of utterance. "If you would prefer to stop here, we can give you a comfortable bed," said Franz, "and Annette will have something to eat. I told her that there was a possibility that you would like to remain." It was the very thing I wanted, and placing my pole by the side of Franz's in the little shed from which Annette had brought it in the morning, I entered the cottage. All was still and quiet. It seemed Annette had not heard us; for as the door was opened, she rose from the bedside, where she had been kneeling, and springing lightly to Franz hid her little tear-wet face in his bosom. She did not perceive me, and for a moment there was nothing to be heard but the heavy breathing of the sick man. "How has he been, Annette?" and Franz unclasped his sister's arm. "He did not say much till the sun was nearly down, then he began to ask for you, and at last I read him to sleep." "Can you give us something to eat, Annette? you see I have brought the stranger with me."