The Heir of Redclyffe HTML version

Chapter 30
She's a winsome wee thing,
She's a handsome wee thing,
She's a bonnie wee thing,
This sweet wee wifie of mine.--BURNS
'Look here, Amy,' said Guy, pointing to a name in the traveller's book at Altdorf.
'Captain Morville!' she exclaimed, 'July 14th. That was only the day before yesterday.'
'I wonder whether we shall overtake him! Do you know what was this gentleman's route?'
inquired Guy, in French that was daily becoming more producible.
The gentleman having come on foot, with nothing but his knapsack, had not made much
sensation. There was a vague idea that he had gone on to the St. Gothard; but the guide
who was likely to know, was not forthcoming, and all Guy's inquiries only resulted in, 'I
dare say we shall hear of him elsewhere.'
To tell the truth, Amabel was not much disappointed, and she could see, though he said
nothing, that Guy was not very sorry. These two months had been so very happy, there
had been such full enjoyment, such freedom from care and vexation, or aught that could
for a moment ruffle the stream of delight. Scenery, cathedrals music, paintings, historical
association, had in turn given unceasing interest and pleasure; and, above all, Amabel had
been growing more and more into the depths of her husband's mind, and entering into the
grave, noble thoughts inspired by the scenes they were visiting. It had been a sort of ideal
happiness, so exquisite, that she could hardly believe it real. A taste of society, which
they had at Munich, though very pleasant, had only made them more glad to be alone
together again; any companion would have been an interruption, and Philip, so intimate,
yet with his carping, persecuting spirit towards Guy, was one of the last persons she
could wish to meet; but knowing that this was by no means a disposition Guy wished to
encourage, she held her peace.
For the present, no more was said about Philip; and they proceeded to Interlachen, where
they spent a day or two, while Arnaud was with his relations; and they visited the two
beautiful lakes of Thun and Brientz. On first coming among mountains, Amabel had been
greatly afraid of the precipices, and had been very much alarmed at the way in which
Guy clambered about, with a sureness of foot and steadiness of head acquired long ago
on the crags of Redclyffe, and on which the guides were always complimenting him; but
from seeing him always come down safe, and from having been enticed by him to several
heights, which had at first seemed to her most dizzy and dangerous, she had gradually
laid aside her fears, and even become slightly, very slightly, adventurous herself.
One beautiful evening, they were wandering on the side of the Beatenberg, in the little
narrow paths traced by the tread of the goats and their herdsmen. Amabel sat down to try