," said Deta stubbornly. "He won't do her any
harm; and if he should, he is responsible, not I."

"I wish I knew what weighs on the old man's conscience. Why are his
eyes so fierce and why does he live up there all alone? Nobody ever
sees him and we hear many strange things about him. Didn't your sister
tell you anything, Deta?"

"Of course she did, but I shall hold my tongue. He would make me pay
for it if I didn't."

Barbara had long been anxious to know something about the old uncle
and why he lived apart from everybody. Nobody had a good word for him,
and when people talked about him, they did not speak openly but as if
they were afraid. She could not even explain to herself why he was
called the Alm-Uncle. He could not possibly be the uncle of all the
people in the village, but since everybody spoke of him so, she did
the same. Barbara, who had only lived in the village since her
marriage, was glad to get some information from her friend. Deta had
been bred there, but since her mother's death had gone away to earn
her livelihood.

She confidentially seized Deta's arm and said: "I wish you would tell
me the truth about him, Deta; you know it all--people only gossip.
Tell me, what has happened to the old man to turn everybody against
him so? Did he always hate his fellow-creatures?"

"I cannot tell you whether he always did, and that for a very good
reason. He being sixty years old, and I only twenty-six, you can't
expect me to give you an account of his early youth. But if you'll
promise to keep it to yourself and not set all the people in Praetiggan
talking, I can tell you a good deal. My mother and he both came from
Domleschg."

"How can you talk like that, Deta?" replied Barbara in an offended
tone. "People do not gossip much in Praetiggan, and I always can keep
things to myself, if I have to. You won't repent of having told me, I
assure you!"

"All right, but keep your word!" said Deta warningly. Then she looked
around to see that the child was not so close to them as to overhear
what might be said; but the little girl was nowhere to be seen. While
the two young women had talked at such a rate, they had not noticed
her absence; quite a while must have elapsed since the little girl had
given up following her companions. Deta, standing still, looked about
her everywhere, but no one was on the path, which--except for a few
curves--was visible as far down as the village.

"There she is! Can't you see her