o help him if we
find him," said Melchior, seating himself; and Saxe sank beside him, and
involuntarily leaned up against the sturdy fellow, who began to search
his wallet, and brought out the remains of some bread and cheese, the
greater part of which he offered to his companion.

"No, no, Melk: I can't eat," he said.

"You must, herr--for his sake. Try."

"A fair half, then," said Saxe; and the guide smiled, and made a fresh
division, which was slowly discussed every mouthful seeming to the boy
as if it would choke him.

And as they ate the last faint light died away, and bright points of
light began to twinkle overhead.

"It will be a bright night, thank Heaven!" said Melchior: "the storm
threats have passed away. Hah! it begins to grow cold."

"And I have made you worse," said Saxe faintly, as he glanced at the
sleeves of his companion's shirt.

"Oh, that's nothing, herr," said the guide, stretching out his hands to
feel Saxe's feet; and after bidding him sit fast, lifting the boy's feet
across his own. "Keep them there," he said: "they will be warmer while
we rest; they were getting wet, and we must not have your feet frozen."

"Does it freeze?" said Saxe drowsily.

"Yes, herr, sharply up here, as soon as the sun goes down. Now, you
must not think me heartless if I light my pipe. Then we will start on
again."

"Oh no: light it, Melk, and let us start again," said Saxe in a whisper.

The guide rapidly filled and lit his pipe, for his long experience told
him that Saxe must not sit long in the condition he was; and rising and
resuming his hold of his trusty axe, he said sharply--

"Now, herr, forward!"

Saxe looked up at him in a dazed way, but did not stir.

"I was afraid so," muttered the guide, as he picked up the boy's ice-axe
and stuck it through his belt. Then drawing the rope from beneath him,
he threw it over his shoulder and went down on his knees just in front
of his companion.

"Now, herr," he said imperatively: "put your arms round my neck."

"What for? what are you going to do?" faltered Saxe helplessly.

"Only give you a lift, my boy, till you are a bit rested."

"But--" began Saxe, protesting feebly.

"Your hands! Quick!" cried Melchior; and seizing one he drew Saxe
forward, the other hand followed, and the guide staggered to his feet,
shifted and shuffled his load into an easier position, and then getting
his hands beneath his legs, as Saxe involuntarily clasped his arms