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Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. ’ ‘No, for that would have had to be in Melusine’s possession to start with. ” Anna was bewildered. There was no railway beyond Frutigen in those days; they sent their baggage by post to Kandersteg, and walked along the mule path to the left of the stream to that queer hollow among the precipices, Blau See, where the petrifying branches of trees lie in the blue deeps of an icy lake, and pine-trees clamber among gigantic boulders. “I’ll be here at one in the morning. Fly! fly!" "Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself," cried Jack, in an agony of tears. .
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