We reached at last the shore of the Königs-See, a blue, deep lake at a high elevation, encircled by lofty peaks, splintered, storm-beaten, and capped by snow which never melts, far above the range of grass and trees. A group of women on the beach had ready two or three broad and rudely-built boats, and noisily clamoured for our patronage. We chose what seemed the best, and the women rowers with stout arms soon propelled us far from shore into the midst of the Alpine sublimity. A silence fell, broken only by the oar-beats. Then, where the precipices rose highest we paused. Suddenly a gun was fired. It broke upon the silence startlingly loud, and after an interval the report reverberated in a series of crashes from height after height, dying down into a dull murmur from the steep most distant. I was awed by the sight and the sound, and awed too, by my companion. He had thrown off his hat and knapsack and stood with his fine stature at the bow. His classic face was turned upward to the peaks, and with a look as if he felt their power. He waved his arms toward them as if in a salutation to things sentient. The man seemed to befit the environment, majestic though it was. We returned sooner than we desired from our excursion on the water, the boat-women being over eager for new passengers. My companion resumed his knapsack and it was time to part. To his question as to my plan I replied that I was there simply for the scenery, that I purposed to make my way back to Salzburg on foot by the paths that promised most, and should be guided by whatever I might learn. He said that he, too, was bound for Salzburg, walking for pleasure; and when I thereupon suggested that we might go on together, he readily fell in, and we trudged forward. Comradeship grew strong as the day passed, then a night in an unfrequented inn, then another day. We discussed things near and far, ancient and recent, I talking most but he was always genial and quietly responsive, and my confidence was invited. I told him of the little fresh-water college in the West with which I was associated, my functions being partly pedagogic and partly pastoral, of the embarrassments of co-education as we found them, the difficulty in the uplift of too frivolous youth to a high moral and spiritual plane, the embarrassment in curbing characters too reckless into decorum and propriety. He listened sympathetically, with no discoverable cynicism in the rather grave smile he usually wore. As to whom he might be, he remained constantly reticent, though my curiosity increased as the hours flew. We passed not far from two or three mountain resorts, where tourists were gathered. Near such my companion showed some nervousness. There might be people there who knew him, and it suited him for the time to remain by himself. This I took as some small confirmation of my suspicion that he was a great personage. Physically certainly he was superbly endowed. The roads were rough and