ad perforce of her radiant new healthfulness arrived at an exact
understanding of him. Where she was deluded was in supposing that she
would no longer dread his impetuous disposition to turn rosy visions
into facts. But she had the revived convalescent's ardour to embrace
things positive while they were not knocking at the door; dreams were
abhorrent to her, tasteless and innutritious; she cast herself on the
flood, relying on his towering strength and mastery of men and events to
bring her to some safe landing--the dream of hearts athirst for facts.

CHAPTER VI

Alvan was at his writing-table doing stout gladiator's work on paper in
a chamber of one of the gaunt hotels of the heights, which are Death's
Heads there in Winter and have the tongues in Summer, when a Swiss lad
entered with a round grin to tell him that a lady on horseback below had
asked for him--Dr. Alvan. Who could the lady be? He thought of too
many. The thought of Clotilde was dismissed in its dimness. Issuing and
beholding her, his face became illuminated as by a stroke of sunlight.

'Clotilde! by all the holiest!'

She smiled demurely, and they greeted.

She admired the look of rich pleasure shining through surprise in him.
Her heart thanked him for appearing so handsome before her friends.

'I was writing,' said he. 'Guess to whom?--I had just finished my
political stuff, and fell on a letter to the professor and another for
an immediate introduction to your father.'

'True?'

'The truth, as you shall see. So, you have come, you have found me! This
time if I let you slip, may I be stamped slack-fingered!'

'"Two wishes make a will," you say.'

He answered her with one of his bursts of brightness.

Her having sought him he read for the frank surrender which he was
ready to match with a loyal devotion to his captive. Her coming cleared
everything.

Clotilde introduced him to her friends, and he was enrolled a member
of the party. His appearance was that of a man to whom the sphinx has
whispered. They ascended to the topmost of the mountain stages, to
another caravanserai of tourists, whence the singular people emerge in
morning darkness night-capped and blanketed, and behold the great orb of
day at his birth--he them.

Walking slowly beside Clotilde on the mountain way, Alvan said: 'Two
wishes! Mine was in your breast. You wedded yours to it. At last!--and
we are one. Not a word more of time lost. My wish is almost a will in
itsel