Part 7 As they came back from that day’s climb—it was up the Mittaghorn—they had to cross a shining space of wet, steep rocks between two grass slopes that needed a little care. What our dear mother would say back home I dread to think. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. One who—who—tres. Promise me one thing before I leave you. As soon as they had got out, the vehicle was drawn up at the back of a tree near the cage. ’ A derisive snort greeted this passage. Operations then commenced.
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