“Sebastian, here they are!” cried the woman.

He, however, remained speechless, shaking with emotion, and then ran up to her.  Then his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he said nothing, caught the children in his embrace and held them long.  Thereupon he turned to his wife, embraced her and cried “Sanna, Sanna!”

After awhile he picked up his hat which had fallen on the snow and stepped among the men as if to speak.  But he only said:  “Neighbors and friends, I thank you!”

After waiting awhile, until the children had recovered from their excitement, he said:  “If we are all together we may start, in God’s name.”

“We are not all together yet, I believe,” said the shepherd Philip, “but those who are still missing will know from the smoke that we have found the children and will go home when they find the chalet empty.”

All got ready to depart.

The Sideralp chalet is not so very far from Gschaid, from whose windows one can, in summer time, very well see the green pasture on which stands the gray hut with its small belfry; but below it there is a perpendicular wall with a descent of many fathoms which one could climb in summer, with the help of climbing-irons, but which was not to be scaled in winter.  They were, therefore, compelled to go by way of the “neck” in order to get down to Gschaid.  On their way, they came to the Sider meadow which is still nearer to Gschaid so that from it one could see the windows in the village.

As they were crossing these meadows, the bell of the Gschaid church sounded up to them bright and clear, announcing the Holy Transubstantiation.

[Illustration:  THE BARBER SHOP BENJAMIN VAUTIER]

On account of the general commotion that obtained in Gschaid that morning, the celebration of the High-mass had been deferred, as the priest thought the children would soon be found.  Finally, however, as still no news came, the holy mass had to be celebrated.

When they heard the bell announcing the Holy Transsubstantiation, all those crossing the Sider meadow sank upon their knees in the snow and prayed.  When the tolling had ceased they arose and marched on.

The shoemaker was carrying his little girl for the most part and made her tell him all.

When they were descending toward the forest of the “neck” they saw tracks which, he declared, came not from shoes of his make.

The explanation came soon.  Attracted probably by the many voices they heard, another body of men joined them.  It was the dyer—­ash-gray in the face from fright—­descending at the head of his workmen, apprentices, and several men of Millsdorf.

“They climbed over the glacier and the crevasses without knowing it,” the shoemaker shouted to his father-in-law.