The executioner shook his head. “No, not that I know of,” Michelle replied, her still eyes not meeting Lucy’s. 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. ‘The man’s gone,’ her old nurse told her, when she had recovered a little. “You did a great job on my concerto today. His bodily suffering, however, was nothing compared with his mental anguish. And the opportunity to share in your exciting adventures was just too tempting to be put aside. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass.
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