“I fear her not,” said Rudy. “She could not keep me when I was a child; I
will not give myself up to her now I am a man.”
Darkness came on, the rain fell, and then it began to snow, and the
whiteness dazzled the eyes.
“Give me your hand,” said the maiden; “I will help you to mount.” And
he felt the touch of her icy fingers.
“You help me,” cried Rudy; “I do not yet require a woman to help me to
climb.” And he stepped quickly forwards away from her.
The drifting snow-shower fell like a veil between them, the wind
whistled, and behind him he could hear the maiden laughing and singing,
and the sound was most strange to hear.
“It certainly must be a spectre or a servant of the Ice Maiden,” thought
Rudy, who had heard such things talked about when he was a little boy, and
had stayed all night on the mountain with the guides.
The snow fell thicker than ever, the clouds lay beneath him; he looked
back, there was no one to be seen, but he heard sounds of mocking laughter,
which were not those of a human voice.
When Rudy at length reached the highest part of the mountain, where the
path led down to the valley of the Rhone, the snow had ceased, and in the
clear heavens he saw two bright stars twinkling. They reminded him of
Babette and of himself, and of his future happiness, and his heart glowed at
the thought.
VI. The Visit to the Mill
What beautiful things you have brought home!” said his old foster-
mother; and her strange-looking eagle-eyes sparkled, while she wriggled
and twisted her skinny neck more quickly and strangely than ever. “You
have brought good luck with you, Rudy. I must give you a kiss, my dear
boy.”
Rudy allowed himself to be kissed; but it could be seen by his
countenance that he only endured the infliction as a homely duty.
