How they got there, and what they were, puzzled him; for he was no geologist; and finding a bench inside, he sat down and speculated thereon.
There was more than one doorway to the "Cheese Cellar." It stood beneath a jutting knoll, and the path ran right through; so that, as he sat, he could see up a narrow gorge to his left, roofed in with trees; and down into the main valley on his right, where the Issbach glittered clear and smooth beneath red-berried mountain-ash and yellow leaves.
There he sat, and tried to forget Marie in the tinkling of the streams, and the sighing of the autumn leaves, and the cooing of the sleepy doves; while the ice-bird, as the Germans call the water-ouzel, sat on a rock in the river below, and warbled his low sweet song, and then flitted up the grassy reach to perch and sing again on the next rock above.
And, whether, it was that he did forget Marie awhile; or whether he were tired, as he well might have been; or whether he had too rapidly consumed his bottle of red Walporzheimer, forgetful that it alone of German wines combines the delicacy of the Rhine sun with the potency of its Burgundian vinestock, transplanted to the Ahr by Charlemagne;-- whether it were any of these causes, or whether it were not, Stangrave fell fast asleep in the Kaise-kellar, and slept till it was dark, at the risk of catching a great cold.
How long he slept he knew not: but what wakened him he knew full well.
Voices of people approaching; and voices which he recognised in a moment.
Sabina?
Yes; and Marie too, laughing merrily; and among their shriller tones the voice of Thurnall.

He had not heard it for years; but, considering the circumstances under which he had last heard it, there was no fear of his forgetting it again.
They came down the side-glen; and before he could rise, they had turned the sharp corner of the rock, and were in the Kaise-kellar, close to him, almost touching him.

He felt the awkwardness of his position.

To keep still was, perhaps, to overhear, and that too much.

To discover himself was to produce a scene; and he could not trust his temper that the scene would not be an ugly one, and such as women must not witness.
He was relieved to find that they did not stop.