"All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. To-morrow night —or rather to-night, for we are fast verging on another day—I propose to lure him out of the house by a stratagem which I am sure will prove infallible; and, then, what so easy as to knock him on the head. There was no railway beyond Frutigen in those days; they sent their baggage by post to Kandersteg, and walked along the mule path to the left of the stream to that queer hollow among the precipices, Blau See, where the petrifying branches of trees lie in the blue deeps of an icy lake, and pine-trees clamber among gigantic boulders. A cry was then raised by the leaders to attack Wild's house, and the fury of the mob was instantly directed to that quarter. The chair had extension arms over which a man might comfortably dangle his legs. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her.
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