“Oh, what a charming bird; but she whistles well and her pretty chin, round like a peach, is sweet to look upon.”

Mr. Zacharias was all emotion—­a rush of hot blood, which made his heart beat, as it did at twenty, coursed through his veins.  Blushing, he arose to his feet.

“Good-day, my pretty one!” he said.

The young girl stopped short—­opened her big eyes and recognized him (for who did not know the dear old Judge Zacharias in that part of the country?).

“Ah!” she said, with a bright smile, “it is Mr. Zacharias Seiler!”

The old man approached her—­he tried to speak—­but all he could do was to stammer a few unintelligible words, just like a very young man—­his embarrassment was so great that he completely disconcerted the young girl.  At last he managed to say: 

“Where are you going through the forest at this hour, my dear child?”

She stretched out her hand and showed him, way at the end of the valley, a forester’s house.

“I am returning to my father’s house, the Corporal Yeri Foerster.  You know him, without doubt, Monsieur le Juge.”

“What, are you our brave Yeri’s daughter?  Ah, do I know him?  A very worthy man.  Then you are little Charlotte of whom he has often spoken to me when he came with his official reports?”

“Yes, Monsieur; I have just come from the town and am returning home.”

“That is a very pretty bunch of Alpine berries you have,’” exclaimed the old man.

She detached the bouquet from her belt and tendered it to him.

“If it would please you, Monsieur Seiler.”

Zacharias was touched.

“Yes, indeed,” he said, “I will accept it, and I will accompany you home.  I am anxious to see this brave Foerster again.  He must be getting old by now.”

“He is about your age, Monsieur le Juge,” said Charlotte innocently, “between fifty-five and sixty years of age.”

This simple speech recalled the good man to his senses, and as he walked beside her be became pensive.

What was he thinking of?  Nobody could tell; but how many times, how many times has it happened that a brave and worthy man, thinking that he had fulfilled all his duties, finds that he has neglected the greatest, the most sacred, the most beautiful of all—­that of love.  And what it costs him to think of it when it is too late.

Soon Mr. Zacharias and Charlotte came to the turn of the valley where the path spanned a little pond by means of a rustic bridge, and led straight to the corporal’s house.  They could now see Yeri Foerster, his large felt hat decorated with a twig of heather, his calm eyes, his brown cheeks and grayish hair, seated on the stone bench near his doorway; two beautiful hunting dogs, with reddish-brown coats, lay at his feet, and the high vine arbor behind him rose to the peak of the gable roof.

The shadows on Romelstein were lengthening and the setting sun spread its purple fringe behind the high fir-trees on Alpnach.