The fog and thick clouds hid the mountains, and all the valleys lay forlorn and cold under clinging veils of mist, through which the few brown leaves left upon the trees hung limp and dying on the bare branches.

The villagers were settling down to their winter life; and though along the frequented routes a few travellers were still passing to and fro, the less known were deserted.

It was safe now to go down to Engelberg, where, if ever again except as a prisoner in the hands of justice, he would see Felicita.
Impatient to anticipate the day on which he might again see her, he reached Engelberg a week before the appointed time.

The green meadows and the forests of the little valley were hidden in mist and rain, and the towering dome of the Titlis was folded from sight in dense clouds, with only a cold gleam now and then as its snowy summit glanced through them for a minute.

The innumerable waterfalls were swollen, and fell with a restless roar through the black depths of the forests.