not come again.

The way was very slippery, he thought; his feet seemed to be clogged
with soft earth, and he stopped at last to breathe. Then he heard
another cry, and the sound of footsteps behind him.

Some one was following him up the dangerous ascent. And as his ears took
in the sound he heard Anna's voice some way below.

[Sidenote: "You cannot climb To-night!"]

"Father! father! stop! stop!" she cried; "there is a landslip above; you
cannot climb to-night."

George Fasch stopped. He shut his eyes and opened them again. It seemed
to him that he was dreaming. How came Anna to be at the foot of the pass
if it was not possible to climb to the top of it?

"What is it, Anna? Do you mean that I must come down again?" he said
wonderingly.

"Yes, yes; the path above is destroyed."

And once more he wondered if all this could be real.

"Father, can you come down with the pack, or will you unfasten it and
leave it behind?"

George Fasch thought a moment.

"You must go down first," he said, "and keep on one side; the distance
is short, and I think I can do it; but I may slip by the way."

There were minutes of breathless suspense while Anna stood in the
gathering darkness, and then the heavy footsteps ceased to descend, and
she found herself suddenly hugged close in her father's arms.

"My good girl," he said, "my good Anna, how did you come here?"

Anna could not speak. She trembled like a leaf, and then she began to
sob. The poor girl was completely exhausted by the terrible anxiety she
had gone through, and by fatigue.

"I thought I was too late," she sobbed; "it looked so dark. I feared you
could not see; I cried out, but you did not answer. Oh, father!"--she
caught at his arms--"if I had been really too late!"

Her head sank on his shoulder.

George Fasch patted her cheek. He was deeply moved, but he did not
speak; he would hear by-and-by how it had all happened. Presently he
said cheerfully:

"Well, my girl, we must let Gretchen wonder what has happened to us
to-night. You and I will get beds at Malans. My clever Anna has done
enough for one day."

* * * * *

Three years have passed since Anna's memorable journey. Her Aunt
Christina has married, and she has gone to live in Zurich; Anna is now
alone with her father and Gretchen. She has developed in all ways; that
hurried journey to the foot of the mountain had been a mental tonic to
the girl. She has learned to b