The entrance, or outlet to
this hut, was an orifice that resembled a window rather than a door. They
moved cautiously to the spot, looking into the gloomy, cavern-like room,
as timidly as the hare throws his regards about him before he ventures
from his cover. Four human forms were reposing deep in the vault, with
their backs sustained against the walls. They slept profoundly too, for
the curious but startled girls gazed at them long, and retired without
causing them to awake.
"We have not been alone on the mountain in this terrible night," whispered
Adelheid, gently urging the trembling Christine away from the spot; "thou
seest that other travellers have been taking their rest near us; most
probably after perils and fatigues like our own."
Christine drew closer to the side of her more experienced friend, like the
young of the dove hovering near the mother-bird when first venturing from
the nest, and they returned to the refuge they had quitted, for the cold
was still so intense as to render its protection grateful. At the door
they were met by Pierre, the vigilant old man having awakened as soon as
the light crossed his eyes.
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