brave
spirit which He had been pleased to give to this young man, who had
grown so dear to one who lacked a son. Only this he did in silence, nor
did he ever allude to the subject afterwards, except as a commonplace
matter-of-course event.

Notwithstanding the "jodellings" which continued outside his window to
a late hour, and the bouquet of flowers which was sent to him by the
wife of the mayor, who felt that a distinction had been conferred upon
their village that would bring them many visitors in future seasons,
and ought to be suitably acknowledged, Godfrey soon dropped into a deep
sleep. But in the middle of the night it passed from him, and he awoke
full of terrors. Now, for the first time, he understood what he had
escaped, and how near he had been to lying, not in a comfortable bed,
but a heap of splintered bones and mangled flesh at the foot of a
precipice, whence, perhaps, it would have been impossible ever to
recover his remains. In short, his nerves re-acted, and he felt
anything but a hero, rather indeed, a coward among cowards. Nor did he
wish ever to climb another Alp; the taste had quite departed from him.
To tell the truth, a full month went by before he was himself again,
and during that month he was as timid as a kitten, and as careful of
his personal safety as a well-to-do old lady unaccustomed to travel.

CHAPTER XI

JULIETTE'S FAREWELL

When Godfrey returned to the Maison Blanche, wearing a handsome gold
watch, which had been presented to him with an effusive letter of
thanks by the gentleman whom he had rescued and his relatives, he found
himself quite a celebrity. Most of the Pasteur's congregation met him
when he descended from the diligence, and waved their hats, but as he
thanked heaven, did not "jodel."

Leaving the Pasteur to make some acknowledgment, he fled to the house,
only to find Madame, Juliette, a number of friends, to say nothing of
Jean, the cook and the servant girl, awaiting him there. Madame beamed,
and looked as though she were about to kiss him; the fresh and charming
Juliette shook his hand, and murmured into his ear that she had no idea
he was so brave, also that every night she thanked the _Bon Dieu_ for
his escape; while the others said something appropriate--or the reverse.

Once more he fled, this time to his bedroom. There upon his
dressing-table lay two letters, one from his father and one addressed
in a curious pointed hand-writing, which he did not know. T