“I see the lad sitting in the entrance of the cavern, looking out across the valley, as though expecting some one.  He is pallid and thin, and wears a dark-colored mantle—­a large mantle—­lined with sable fur.”

St. Aubyn sprang from his seat.  “True!” he exclaimed.  “It is the mantle he was carrying on his arm when he slipped over the pass!  O, thank God for that; it may have saved his life!”

“The place in which I see your boy,” continued the mountaineer, “is fully three miles distant from the plateau on which we now stand.  But I do not know how to reach it.  I cannot discern the track.  I am at fault!” He moved his hands impatiently to and fro, and cried in tones which manifested the disappointment he felt:  “I can see no more! the vision passes from me.  I can discover nothing but confused shapes merged in ever-increasing darkness!”

We gathered round him in some dismay, and St. Aubyn urged the younger Raoul to attempt an elucidation of the difficulty.  But he too failed.  The scene in the cave appeared to him with perfect distinctness; but when he strove to trace the path which should conduct us to it, profound darkness obliterated the vision.

“It must be underground,” he said, using the groping action we had already observed on Theodor’s part.  “It is impossible to distinguish anything, save a few vague outlines of rock.  Now there is not a glimmer of light; all is profound gloom!”

Suddenly, as we stood discussing the situation, one advising this, another that, a sharp bark from one of the hounds startled us all, and immediately arrested our consultation.  It was Fritz who had thus interrupted the debate.  He was running excitedly to and fro, sniffing about the edge of the plateau, and every now and then turning himself with an abrupt jerk, as if seeking something which eluded him.  Presently Bruno joined in this mysterious quest, and the next moment, to our admiration and amazement, both dogs simultaneously lifted their heads, their eyes illumined with intelligence and delight, and uttered a prolonged and joyous cry that reverberated chorus-like from the mountain wall behind us.

“They know!  They see!  They have the clue!” cried the peasants, as the two hounds leapt from the plateau down the steep declivity leading to the valley, scattering the snowdrifts of the crevices pell-mell in their headlong career.  In frantic haste we resumed our loads, and hurried after our flying guides with what speed we could.  When the dogs had reached the next level, they paused and waited, standing with uplifted heads and dripping tongues while we clambered down the gorge to join them.  Again they took the lead; but this time the way was more intricate, and their progress slower.  Single-file we followed them along a narrow winding track of broken ground, over which every moment a tiny torrent foamed and tumbled; and as we descended the air became less keen, the snow rarer, and a few patches of gentian and hardy plants appeared on the craggy sides of the mountain.