“Not one.  I look for the company of Melchior de Willading and his daughter—­and yet I like not the time!  There are evil signs playing about the high peaks and in the neighborhood of the Dents since the sun has set!”

“Thou art ever in a storm up in thy castle there!  The Leman was never more peaceable, and I should take it truly in evil part, were the rebellious lake to get into one of its fits of sudden anger with so precious a freight on its bosom.”

“I do not think the Genfer See will regard even a bailiff’s displeasure!” rejoined the Baron de Blonay, laughing.  “I repeat it; the signs are suspicious.  Let us consult the watermen, for it may be well to send a light-pulling boat to bring the travellers to land.”

Roger de Blonay and the bailiff walked towards the little earthen mole, that partially protects the roadstead of Vevey, and which is for ever forming and for ever washing away before the storms of winter, in order to consult some of those who were believed to be expert in detecting the symptoms that precede any important changes of the atmosphere.  The opinions were various.  Most believed there would be a gust; but, as the Winkelried was known to be a new and well-built bark, and none could tell how much beyond her powers she had been loaded by the cupidity of Baptiste, and as it was generally thought the wind would be as likely to bring her up to her haven as to be against her, there appeared no sufficient reason for sending off the boat; especially as it was believed the bark would be not only drier but safer than a smaller craft, should they be overtaken by the wind.  This indecision, so common in cases of uncertainty, was the means of exposing Adelheid and her father to all those fearful risks they had just run.

When the night came on, the people of the town began to understand that the tempest would be grave for those who were obliged to encounter it, even in the best bark on the Leman.  The darkness added to the danger, for vessels had often run against the land by miscalculating their distances; and the lights were shown along the strand, by order of the bailiff, who manifested an interest so unusual in those on board the Winkelried, as to draw about them more than the sympathy that would ordinarily be felt for travellers in distress.  Every exertion that the case admitted was made in their behalf, and, the moment the state of the lake allowed, boats were sent off, in every probable direction, to their succor.  But the Winkelried was running along the coast of Savoy, ere any ventured forth, and the search proved fruitless.  When the rumor spread, however, that a sail was to be discerned coming out from under the wide shadow of the opposite mountains, and that it was steering for La Tour de Peil, a village with a far safer harbor than that of Vevey, and but an arrow’s flight from the latter town, crowds rushed to the spot.  The instant it was known that the missing party was in her, the travellers were received with cheers of delight and cries of hearty greeting.