In his explorations on the southern slope he came to a deep gulch in which the tops of scrub pines showed above the snow.  Following its edge for some distance his eye at length was caught by a dark shape on the rocks.  He climbed slowly and painfully down to it and saw the body of a man, clothed like a German forester.  His neck and many of his bones were broken, and his body was bruised frightfully.

John had no doubt that it was the missing Muller, and it was altogether likely that in the storm he had made a misstep, and had fallen into the ravine to instant death.

“What are you going to do?” asked Julie, who saw him going out, spade on shoulder.

“I’ve found Muller at last,” he replied soberly.

“Oh!  I am sorry!” she said, shuddering as she looked at the spade.

“It’s all I can do for him now.”

“I’m glad you thought to do as much.”

When John returned he had carefully wiped all the earth from the snow shovel.  The subject of Muller was never again mentioned by either of them, and while he experienced sorrow for a man whom he had never seen and who was an official enemy, he felt that a shadow was lifted from them.

The sun grew much warmer the next day, and the snow began to melt fast.  The rivulets in the runways swelled rapidly.  The snow sank inch by inch, and warm winds blew on the slopes.  The pines were now clear and little rivers were running down every ravine and gulch.  The thunder of great masses of snow, loosened by the thaw and gathering weight as they rolled down the mountain side, came to their ears.  The sky was a brilliant blue, pouring down continuous warm beams, and it was obvious that it would not be long before the automobile road was clear.  Then the blue eyes turned a questioning gaze upon the gray.

“Yes, I’m preparing for us to go soon,” said John.

“Which way?” asked Julie.

“Toward Italy, I think.”

“Is it possible for us to get through?”

“I don’t know.  The hardships and the dangers undoubtedly will be great.”

“But one can endure them.”

“You have little to fear.  Prince Karl of Auersperg offers you morganatic marriage, and he thinks that he is honoring you.”

“But do you, John, think that he is honoring me?”

“Although you would probably be a mere countess and not a princess, your position nevertheless would be great in most continental eyes, far grander than if you were to marry some obscure republican.”

“You haven’t answered me.  Do you think the Prince of Auersperg would be honoring me?”

“I’m not a judge to make decisions.  I’m merely stating the facts on either side.”

“But suppose I should meet this simple and obscure republican and, through some singular chance, should happen to love him, would it not be better for my pride and more promising for my happiness to marry him on terms of full equality rather than to marry Prince Karl of Auersperg, a man old enough to be my father, and yet remain all my life his inferior?  As we understand it in France and as you understand it in America, republicanism means equality, does it not, sir?”