“I have something better than milk,” she replied, “which I will give you.
Some travellers who were here yesterday with their guide left behind them a
half a flask of wine, such as you have never tasted. They will not come back
to fetch it, I know, and I shall not drink it; so you shall have it.”
Then the maiden went to fetch the wine, poured some into a wooden cup,
and offered it to Rudy.
“How good it is!” said he; “I have never before tasted such warm,
invigorating wine.” And his eyes sparkled with new life; a glow diffused
itself over his frame; it seemed as if every sorrow, every oppression were
banished from his mind, and a fresh, free nature were stirring within him.
“You are surely Annette, the schoolmaster’s daughter,” cried he; “will you
give me a kiss?”
“Yes, if you will give me that beautiful ring which you wear on your
finger.”
“My betrothal ring?” he replied.
“Yes, just so,” said the maiden, as she poured out some more wine, and
held it to his lips. Again he drank, and a living joy streamed through every
vein.
“The whole world is mine, why therefore should I grieve?” thought he.
“Everything is created for our enjoyment and happiness. The stream of life
is a stream of happiness; let us flow on with it to joy and felicity.”
Rudy gazed on the young maiden; it was Annette, and yet it was not
Annette; still less did he suppose it was the spectral phantom, whom he had
met near Grindelwald. The maiden up here on the mountain was fresh as the
new fallen snow, blooming as an Alpine rose, and as nimble-footed as a
young kid. Still, she was one of Adam’s race, like Rudy. He flung his arms
round the beautiful being, and gazed into her wonderfully clear eyes,-only
for a moment; but in that moment words cannot express the effect of his
gaze. Was it the spirit of life or of death that overpowered him? Was he
rising higher, or sinking lower and lower into the deep, deadly abyss? He
knew not; but the walls of ice shone like blue-green glass; innumerable
