Chapter 24
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Within they lie, a mournful company.
Rogers.
The sleep of the weary is sweet. In after-life, Adelheid, when dwelling in
a palace, reposing on down, and canopied by the rich stuffs of a more
generous climate, was often heard to say that she had never taken rest
grateful as that she found in the Refuge of St. Bernard. So easy, natural,
and refreshing, had been her slumbers, unalloyed even by those dreams of
precipices and avalanches which, long afterwards, haunted her slumbers,
that she was the first to open her eyes on the following morning, awaking
like an infant that had enjoyed a quiet and healthful repose. Her
movements aroused Christine. They threw aside the cloaks and coats that
covered them, and sat gazing about the place in the confusion that the
novelty of their situation would be likely to produce. All the rest of the
travellers still slumbered; and, arising without noise, they passed the
silent and insensible sleepers, the quiet mules which had stretched
themselves near the entrance of the place, and quitted the hut.
Without, the scene was wintry: but, as is usual in the Alps let what may
be the season, its features of grand and imposing sublimity were prominent
The day was among the peaks above them, while the shades of night still
lay upon the valleys, forming a landscape like that exquisite and poetical
picture of the lower world, which Guido has given in the celebrated
al-fresco painting of Aurora. The ravines and glens were covered with
snow, but the sides of the rugged rocks were bare in their eternal hue of
ferruginous brown. The little knoll on which the Refuge stood was also
nearly naked, the wind having driven the light particles of the snow into
the ravine of the path. The air of the morning is keen at that great
height even in midsummer, and the shivering girls drew their mantles about
them, though they breathed the clear, elastic, inspiring element with
pleasure. The storm was entirely past, and the pure sapphire-colored sky
was in lovely contrast with the shadows beneath, raising their thoughts
naturally to that heaven which shone in a peace and glory so much in
harmony with the ordinary images we shadow forth of the abode of the
blessed. Adelheid pressed the hand of Christine, and they knelt together,
bowing their heads to a rock. As fervent, pure, and sincere orisons
ascended to God, from these pious and innocent spirits, as it belongs to
poor mortality to offer.
This general, and in their peculiar situation especial, duty performed,
the gentle girls felt more assured. Relieved of a heavy and imperative
obligation, they ventured to look about them with greater confidence.
Another building, similar in form and material to that in which their
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