‘Ha!’ uttered Captain Roding triumphantly. The smell assaulted them even before they entered the restaurant, greasy and savory. “I wanted to go to an art-student ball of which he disapproved. There was no railway beyond Frutigen in those days; they sent their baggage by post to Kandersteg, and walked along the mule path to the left of the stream to that queer hollow among the precipices, Blau See, where the petrifying branches of trees lie in the blue deeps of an icy lake, and pine-trees clamber among gigantic boulders. Gracious, there’s the gong. Why should I?” “At last,” he murmured, “at last I have found you. What was the name on those marriage lines you showed me?’ ‘M—Melusine,’ stammered the woman, her countenance yet registering shock. "Mrs.
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