“Yes, yes!” urged Beret, half distracted.  But first they would have to go to the next soeter, and ask their neighbours to send some one to attend to the cows for them.  While they were still talking about this, and at the same time following the dog, they saw him stop and look back, wagging his tail.  They ran to him, and there lay Mildrid!

She was lying with her head on her arm, her face half buried in the heather.  They stepped up gently; the dog licked her hands and cheek, and she stretched herself and changed her position, but slept on.  “Let her sleep!” whispered Hans; “and you go and put in the cows.  I hear the bells.”  As Beret was running off he went after her.  “Bring some food with you when you come back,” he whispered.  Then he sat down a little way from Mildrid, made the dog lie down beside him, and sat and held him to keep him from barking.

It was a cloudy evening.  The near heights and the mountain-tops were grey; it was very quiet; there was not even a bird to be seen.  He sat or lay, with his hand on the dog.  He had soon settled what to arrange with Mildrid when she awoke.  There was no cloud in their future; he lay quietly looking up into the sky.  He knew that their meeting was a miracle.  God Himself had told him that they were to go through life together.

He fell to working away at the Bridal March again, and the words that came to him now expressed the quiet happiness of the hour.

It was about eight o’clock when Beret came back, bringing food with her.  Mildrid was still sleeping.  Beret set down what she was carrying, looked at them both for a minute, and then went and sat down a little way from them.  Nearly an hour passed, Beret getting up from time to time to keep herself from falling asleep.  Soon after nine Mildrid awoke.  She turned several times, at last opened her eyes, saw where she was lying, sat up, and noticed the others.  She was still bewildered with sleep, so that she did not take in rightly where she was or what she saw, till Hans rose and came smiling towards her.  Then she held out her hands to him.

He sat down beside her: 

“You’ve had a sleep now, Mildrid?”

“Yes, I’ve slept now.”

“And you’re hungry?”

“Yes, I’m hungry——­” and Beret came forward with the food.  She looked at it and then at them.  “Have I slept long?” she asked.

“Well, it’s almost nine o’clock; look at the sun!”

Not till now did she begin to remember everything.

“Have you sat here long?”

“No, not very long—­but you must eat!” She began to do so.  “You were on your way down to the valley?” asked Hans gently, with his head nearer hers.  She blushed and whispered, “Yes.”

“To-morrow, when you’ve really had a good sleep and rest, we’ll go down together.”

Her eyes looked into his, first in surprise, then as if she were thanking him, but she said nothing.

After this she seemed to revive; she asked Beret where she had been, and Beret told that she had gone to fetch Hans, and he told all the rest.  Mildrid ate and listened, and yielded gradually once again to the old fascination.  She laughed when Hans told her how the dog had found her, and had licked her face without wakening her.  He was at this moment greedily watching every bite she took, and she began to share with him.