1828.] A Night at Sempione. 47 
his daughter. Again and again her name was echoed from a thousand 
crags, as, in a state of almost distraction, he wandered from one height to 
another in idle pursuit. At last, something like a response was audible 
at a distance ;—he listened, and a strong gust brought the sound more 
distinctly to his ear !—it was the hated laugh of the jester. 
The snow lay thickly on the ground, and as he went onward, he knew 
not whither, his way was suddenly crossed by the huge St. Bernard dog, 
dragging by the mouth some undistinguished object. He stopped, and 
with the sagacity peculiar to his species, let fall at the Englishman’s feet 
the burthen, that proved, on inspection, to be a shawl worn in travelling 
by his beloved child!—The animal then ran off, followed by the dis- 
tracted father, until, at a short distance above the road-way, it stopped 
at a gap in the snow. ‘There lay a human creature, and the parent’s 
hopes and fears seemed about to have a common realization.— But no !— 
it was his unwearied persecutor with that eternal laughter,—ensconced 
in his cold bed, but apparently well satisfied with it, so that he might torture 
his victim by a new occasion for merriment. No word uttered he, no 
natural sound ; but deliberately raising himself from his resting place, 
all whitened with snow, and shivering with Alpine frost,—he pointed to 
a particular spot on the line of road,—still grinning with unabated zeal, 
and relaxing not one whit, until the thin tall Englishman, obeying his 
mute command, looked in the direction of his out-stretched finger.— 
Good saints !—What saw he there >—His sweet daughter, like a maniac, 
running at full speed down the descent hand in hand with the instructive 
captain, now too clearly the source of this so great calamity. Quickly 
sped the agonized father ;—though the guilty couple passed on with the 
speed of the roebuck, he failed not in his hot pursuit. It seemed that 
no mortal might keep up that rapid course, so fleetly did he follow where 
they led the way. And all the while, with a rapidity incredible in one 
so roundly shaped, did the little fat man hang on the skirts of the 
pursuer, the last, indeed, in this awful chase, but not a jot the least 
capable of sustaining it: for, ever and anon, he cheered himself with 
loud and dissonant laughter, and his lungs had lost no tittle of their 
strength or endurance.——And down they went, over the bridges of 
Lowibach and Kronbach; they heeded not the roar of the Trissinone, 
nor the foaming waters of the Diverio. They flew through the deep 
grottoes excavated in the overhanging rock ;—paused not at Gonos, at 
St. Marco, or Irella.. Onward, still onward, till they reached the bridge 
of Crevola, at the farther side of which stood the objects of pursuit ; 
who, as if at length over-wearied, seemed there to await the approach of 
the agonized old man. He was now on the centre of the bridge, and 
beside him was the fat fellow, still laughing with might and main.—Now 
will he overtake the abandoned girl,—now will his fatigues be recom- 
penced !—But no !—his foot slipped, he fell prone to the earth, and the 
jolly round man, halloing with ecstatic glee, pushed him over the verge 
of the bridge. He was borne downward by the cataract, and, as he was 
whirled along, he kicked the spray above and around him in a million 
showers. Still he heard the merry laugh of his evil genius, and it~ 
seemed a funeral dirge, for death was now at hand. A projecting 
branch bent over the cataract in its course ;—with a last violent effort 
he grasped at it ;—and in the act jerked off the red cotton night-cap of 
his neighbour in the arm-chair ! 
army he must have taken too heavy a supper, that he had such 
fearful dreams ! ; ivan 
