"We are in none. Your step-brother Gerald, ardently desiring to gather with his own hands some edelweiss for his lady love, is informed by my unfortunate patient that he knows where the flower is to be found. Unwilling that they shall go alone, we express our intention to accompany them. Off we start with merry hearts. But we have not gone far before the young gentlemen beg to be allowed to enjoy their excursion without our society, and we, two fond and indulgent guardians, yield to their implorings, and leave them to themselves. Lured by the balmy weather, we stroll up the mountains, scarcely noting in which direction we are wandering. We stop and dilate upon the sublime beauty of the scenery, our souls exalted by the thoughts it inspires, when our ecstatic musings are rudely interrupted by screams of anguish. We hasten to the spot from which they proceed, and see--nothing. But our ears, ever open to the calls of humanity, cannot have deceived us. No, that is impossible. So we hunt and look about, calling out all the while to the poor souls who may be in peril to give us some indication how we can assist them. At length our attention is attracted by signs of a disturbance at the edge of this precipice, and kneeling"--he suited the action to the word, and Leonard knelt by his side--"we observe marks in the soil which engender the suspicion that a human creature has fallen over. We call out loudly, and are answered by a groan and scarcely distinguishable but undeniably pathetic appeals for help." "I do not hear them," interrupted Leonard. "Then you ought to. Are you quite devoid of imagination? Our hearts are rent by these appeals. We are not practised mountaineers, and are unable to render assistance. Therefore we hasten to the nearest village, and return with men and ropes to the rescue. But by that time it is too late." "By that time," said Leonard, in a questioning tone, "they are dead?" "By that time," repeated Dr. Peterssen, "they are dead. And"--with a steady look at Leonard--"of this fact we must convince ourselves before the introduction of other characters into the melancholy scene." "How is that to be done?" Dr. Peterssen rose to his feet, and cast sharp glances around. "We are quite alone, I think." "Not a person is in sight," said Leonard, watching his ruthless companion with curious eyes. "Be silent a minute or two." They stood perfectly still, all their senses on the alert. "There is no doubt," said Dr. Peterssen, "that we are the only witnesses of the unhappy occurrence, and, thus far, safe. Now to make sure." He divested himself of coat and waistcoat, and unwound a rope which he had adjusted round his waist. "It is not very thick," he said, "nor very long, but it will help to steady us. See, I wind and fasten it about this slim trunk which providence has grown here to further our ends. Try it; you will find it quite secure." "Yes, it can hardly get loosened of itself."