Part 32 (1/2)
The stare continued.
”Well, you are a lively one,” muttered Saxe. ”Here, I'll have another try at you. 'Wollen Sie mir.' Let's see: 'wollen Sie mir'--what's 'have the goodness to tell me which way the guide and Mr Dale went?'-- You don't understand? No more do I how you can stand there like an ugly bit of rustic carving. I say, stupid! Can you understand that? Oh, I'm as stupid as he is. Get out of the way, old wooden wisdom, and let's find your master.”
Just at that moment voices fell upon the lad's ear, evidently coming from a rough building formed of pine logs built up log-hut fas.h.i.+on.
He hurried towards it, and found old Andregg standing at the door looking in, but ready to turn and salute him with a pleasant smile and the friendly ”good morning” of the Swiss people.
”Ah, Saxe! that you?” said Dale, who was busy with Melchior repacking some of the things which had been brought up the valley by Pierre during their absence. ”Had a good night's rest?”
”Yes. But why didn't you call me when you got up?”
”I did, and so did Melchior; but you were so sound that I thought I'd let you sleep. Well, all the traps are right, and I've been packing up what we want to take.”
”Where?”
”Into the heart of the mountains.”
”And when do you start?”
”As soon as ever we have done breakfast and put together a good supply of food. Had your bath?”
”No. I meant to go with you.”
”Go and have it, and by that time we shall be ready for breakfast.”
Saxe went off rather dissatisfied, towel in hand, to pa.s.s their landlord's wife and receive a nod and smile. Then he went on towards the place which he had visited before; and now, one by one, the cold-looking peaks began to turn rosy and brighten, the scene changing so rapidly to orange and gold that Saxe forgot his dissatisfied feelings, and at last stopped to look round in admiration, then in dismay, and at last in something approaching rage; for not a dozen yards behind him was the heavy, stolid face of Pierre, his mouth looking as if it had not been shut since he spoke to him.
The man had stopped when Saxe stopped, and he continued his heavy stare.
”Oh! I do wish I had paid more attention to my jolly old French and German at school,” muttered Saxe, as the man's stare quite worried him.
”I wonder what 'be off' is? Allez-vous en he would not understand.
'Gehen!' That's 'to go.' But you can't say 'to go' to a fellow, when you want him to be off. And you can't say 'go to,' because gehen's only one word. I know: 'Gehen sie Jericho!' I'll let that off at him if he follows me any farther.”
Saxe nodded at the man, said ”Morgen,” and went on.
”'Morgen!' Well, that's 'good morning.' He must understand that; but I don't believe he understands it as we do when one says 'good morning' to a fellow and means he's to go. Oh! I say, what are you following me for? I know. He is a dirty-looking beggar. He's coming for a wash.
But after me, please, mein herr. I'll have first go. Ugh! I'd rather have a bath after a pig.”
Saxe went on rapidly; but the man still followed, walking when he did, and timing his pace to keep up; stopping when he did, and provoking such a feeling of irritation in the English lad, that he suddenly faced round and fired the speech he had prepared, but with lingual additions which ornamented and certainly obscured the meaning.
”Here, I say! you, sir!” he cried: ”old what's-your-name--Pierre? 'gehen Jericho!'”
The man still stared.
”I say, 'gehen Jericho!' and if you will, 'danke schon,' and good luck to you. Oh, I say, do shut that ugly mouth of yours. What's the good of keeping it open if you're not going to speak! There's no breakfast here.”
Pierre still stared, and Saxe swung round again and went on.
”It's too bad to be bothered by a foreigner like him,” he muttered. ”I meant to have a regular natural shower-bath,”--he glanced up at the beautiful spray fall beyond him as he said this to himself--”but now I can't have it, with this fellow watching me, and it'll only mean a scrub and rub.”