cried he. "A visit to the mill, to say goodevening to the miller, and good evening to little Babette, can do noharm. No one ever fails who has confidence in himself. If I am to beBabette's husband, I must see her some time or other."
  Then Rudy laughed joyously, and took courage to go to the mill. Heknew what he wanted; he wanted to marry Babette. The clear water ofthe river rolled over its yellow bed, and willows and lime-treeswere reflected in it, as Rudy stepped along the path to the miller'shouse. But, as the children sing-
  "There was no one at home in the house,
  Only a kitten at play."
  The cat standing on the steps put up its back and cried "mew." ButRudy had no inclination for this sort of conversation; he passed on,and knocked at the door. No one heard him, no one opened the door."Mew," said the cat again; and had Rudy been still a child, he wouldhave understood this language, and known that the cat wished to tellhim there was no one at home. So he was obliged to go to the milland make inquiries, and there he heard that the miller had gone on ajourney to Interlachen, and taken Babette with him, to the greatshooting festival, which began that morning, and would continue foreight days, and that people from all the German settlements would bethere.
  Poor Rudy! we may well say. It was not a fortunate day for hisvisit to Bex. He had just to return the way he came, through St.Maurice and Sion, to his home in the valley. But he did not despair.When the sun rose the next morning, his good spirits had returned;indeed he had never really lost them. "Babette is at Interlachen,"said Rudy to himself, "many days' journey from here. It is certainly along way for any one who takes the high-road, but not so far if hetakes a short cut across the mountain, and that just suits achamois-hunter. I have been that way before, for it leads to thehome of my childhood, where, as a little boy, I lived with mygrandfather. And there are shooting matches at Interlachen. I will go,and try to stand first in the match. Babette will be there, and Ishall be able to make her acquaintance."
  Carrying his light knapsack, which contained his Sunday clothes,on his back, and with his musket and his game-bag over his shoulder,Rudy started to take the shortest way across the mountain. Still itwas a great distance. The shooting matches were to commence on thatday, and to continue for a whole week. He had been told also thatthe miller and Babette would remain that time with some relatives atInterlachen. So over the Gemmi Rudy climbed bravely, and determined todescend the side of the Grindelwald. Bright and joyous were hisfeelings as he stepped lightly onwards, inhaling the invigoratingmountain air. The valley sunk as he ascended, the circle of thehorizon expanded. One snow-capped peak after another rose beforehim, till the whole of the glittering Alpine range became visible.Rudy knew each ice-clad peak, and he continued his course towardsthe Schreckhorn, with its white powdered stone finger raised high inthe air. At length he had crossed the highest ridges, and before himlay the green pasture lands sloping down towards the valley, which wasonce his home. The buoyancy of the air made his heart light. Hilland valley were blooming in luxuriant beauty, and his thoughts wereyouthful dreams, in which old age or death were out of the question.Life, power, and enjoyment were in the future, and he felt free andlight as a bird. And the swallows flew round him, as in the days ofhis childhood, singing "We and you- you and we." All was overflowingwith joy. Beneath him lay the meadows, covered with velvety green,with the murmuring river flowing through them, and dotted here andthere were small wooden houses. He could see the edges of theglaciers, looking like green glass against the soiled snow, and thedeep chasms beneath the loftiest glacier. The church bells wereringing, as if to welcome him to his home with their sweet tones.His heart beat quickly, and for a moment he seemed to haveforegotten Babette, so full were his thoughts of old recollections. Hewas, in imagination, once more wandering on the road where, when alittle boy, he, with other children, came to sell their curiouslycarved toy houses. Yonder, behind the fir-trees, still stood hisgrandfather's house, his mother's father, but strangers dwelt in itnow. Children came running to him, as he had once done, and wishedto sell their wares. One of them offered him an Alpine rose. Rudy tookthe rose as a good omen, and thought of Babette. He quickly crossedthe bridge where the two rivers flow into each other. Here he founda walk over-shadowed with large walnut-trees, and their thickfoliage formed a pleasant shade. Very soon he perceived in thedistance, waving flags, on which glittered a white cross on a redground- the standard of the Danes as well as of the Swiss- andbefore him lay Interlachen.
  "It is really a splendid town, like none other that I have everseen," said Rudy to himself. It was indeed a Swiss town in its holidaydress. Not like the many other towns, crowded with heavy stone houses,stiff and foreign looking. No; here it seemed as if the woodenhouses on the hills had run into the valley, and placed themselvesin rows and ranks by the side of the clear river, which rushes like anarrow in its course. The streets were rather irregular, it is true,but still this added to their picturesque appearance. There was onestreet which Rudy thought the prettiest of them all; it had been builtsince he had visited the town when a little boy. It seemed to him asif all the neatest and most curiously carved toy houses which hisgrandfather once kept in the large cupboard at home, had beenbrought out and placed in this spot, and that they had increased insize since then, as the old chestnut trees had done. The houses werecalled hotels; the woodwork on the windows and balconies was curiouslycarved. The roofs were gayly painted, and before each house was aflower garden, which separated it from the macadamized high-road.These houses all stood on the same side of the road, so that thefresh, green meadows, in which were cows grazing, with bells ontheir necks, were not hidden. The sound of these bells is oftenheard amidst Alpine scenery. These meadows were encircled by loftyhills, which receded a little in the centre, so that the mostbeautifully formed of Swiss mountains- the snow-crowned Jungfrau-could be distinctly seen glittering in the distance. A number ofelegantly dressed gentlemen and ladies from foreign lands, andcrowds of country people from the neighboring cantons, wereassembled in the town. Each marksman wore the number of hits he hadmade twisted in a garland round his hat. Here were music and singingof all descriptions: hand-organs, trumpets, shouting, and noise. Thehouses and bridges were adorned with verses and inscriptions. Flagsand banners were waving. Shot after shot was fired, which was the bestmusic to Rudy's ears. And amidst all this excitement he quite forgotBabette, on whose account only he had come. The shooters werethronging round the target, and Rudy was soon amongst them. But whenhe took his turn to fire, he proved himself the best shot, for healways struck the bull's-eye.
  "Who may that young stranger be?"