The Silent Valley

by Jean S. MacLeod

  They pulled up at their hotel, where the doctor had ordered a meal. Jane knew that she was going to like the little professor with his bushy grey brows and eyes which gazed mildly at a hastening world. Kindly tolerance seemed to be the keynote of his personality and his smile was gentle and soothing.

  From the moment the plane had touched down on Swiss soil Della had wrapped herself in a new armour of reserve, seeming to accept each step they took warily, and once or twice Jane saw her glance round the busy dining-room as if she expected to see someone she. knew.

  'If you will accept my advice,' Doktor Frey said, including Jane in the critically professional look which he masked with his engaging smile, 'you will retire to your rooms early. The weather we have today is not suitable to see our beautiful city of Zurich, but tomorrow it may be of a happier kind. Then we will look into the shop windows, as the ladies always wish to do, before we go on to Oberzach.'

  Della stretched indifferently.

  'I've brought all I shall need with me from England,' she said, 'but there's no reason why you shouldn't go window-gazing, Jane. I've seen Zurich before.'

  The indifference had been pointed, and Jane could not shake her from her decision even when they awoke the following morning to a world bathed in the clear gold of Alpine sunlight with a backcloth of fire-flushed mountains rising behind a city that looked truly magical.

  Jane had not been prepared for Zurich, nor had she experienced anything to compare with the kind and generous spirit of the Swiss. Doktor Frey was sorry that Della' would not join their shopping expedition, but thought that she was wise to rest in her room, as she had suggested.

  He motored Jane round the town, pointing out monuments and churches with the same zest that he brought to bear on his description of the native craftsmanship which adorned the shop windows in the Bahnhofstrasse, and finally he brought her back to the Hotel Sandalp for lunch.

  Della greeted them with a tolerant smile behind which Jane could detect that same hint of wariness which she had noticed the evening before.

  'What's in the Jelmoli carrier-bag?' she asked, feigning an interest in their purchases which Jane felt was only partially sincere. 'A woolly cardigan made in Scotland?'

  'No!' Jane laughed. 'I've been completely mad and bought myself the flimsiest of hand-made blouses. I couldn't resist it, but I don't suppose I shall ever have the opportunity of wearing it.'

  'No,' Della said icily. 'Sanatoria are hardly the places for diaphanous apparel.'

  In the silence which followed Jane saw two men rise from an alcove table near the door and stride towards them. They were dressed in black vorlage trousers thrust into heavy ski boots and the deep tan of the mountains lay on their skins like smooth gold. Della sat staring at them in undisguised dismay. They were tall and young and virile, with the gleam of perfect health in their blue eyes and the vigour of a climbing race stamped clearly on their long, clean limbs.

  'Hullo!' Della's breath seemed to run out in a small gasp which was checked almost instantly. 'I didn't expect to see anyone I knew with the first snow in the mountains and a clear sky overhead!'

  Both men bowed and laughed at her sally. They were amazingly alike. The same height, the same sapphire blue eyes that, like Della's of a moment before, demolished barriers and looked towards the great peaks which were their spiritual home. Politely they turned towards Jane with almost identical movements.

  'Meet Hans and Martin Kirchhofer, Jane.' Della's introduction was mechanical, her hands clenched tightly by her side. 'They are, without doubt, the most intrepid climbers this side of St. Moritz!'

  Hans smiled, but Jane noticed that Martin's mouth did not relax. Or was it the other way round? Already she had to confess herself confused by such a close likeness and realised that the brothers must be twins.

  One of them asked Della politely how long she would stay in Zurich.

  'You are, of course, going straight to Davos?' he suggested.

  Every vestige of colour drained out of Della's face and it was Doktor Frey who answered for her.

  'First of all Miss Cortonwell will stay at Oberzach as my guest. Perhaps, later, she will come to Davos.'

  It was said with the jealous intent of someone guarding an old and valued friend, and Jane found herself thanking him inwardly for the kindly gesture.

  'Perhaps you will stay the night in Zurich?' Hans Kirchhofer asked. 'If that is so, we would be delighted for you to join our table this evening for dinner.'

  'No,' Della said, averting her frozen gaze from his friendly smile. 'We're going on—this afternoon—now, as a matter of fact. I don't wish to stay in Zurich another night.'

  The decision might have sounded petulant if Jane had not been fully aware of the strain under which Della was labouring, and she thought that she had discovered its cause. Swiftly she glanced at Doktor Frey, but the little professor rose to the occasion without prompting.

  'That is indeed so,' he agreed pleasantly. 'One night we have in Zurich, and then we go on. It is best that way. Soon there will be more snow and the roads will be difficult. We can return here some other time.'

  'But surely,' Hans protested, 'you cannot reach Oberzach now before nightfall?'

  'It is a full moon,' the professor returned unperturbed, 'and I have an excellent French car.'

  Martin Kirchhofer had barely spoken. He stood slightly aloof, looking at Della with faintly reproachful eyes.

  'We'll meet again, of course,' Della said with sudden gaiety. 'It's too early for St. Moritz, Hans, and Davos just isn't on the map before Christmas!'

  'You have changed, my friend!' Hans smiled back. 'At one time anywhere was "on the map" when the snow had fallen 1 Is it that the spell of our mountains has lost its hold upon you?'

  'It may be that.' Della's eyes were hard. 'The reason being that I am not Swiss, my friend.'

  Her voice seemed to crack on the final words and Jane's heart contracted in sudden distress. All this meant so much to Della, the free life, the conquering of mountains, a communing on the high peaks with the great forces of nature which man could never really hope to overcome.

  Yet so many attempted it—Della among them.

  The Kirchhofers took their leave and Jane found herself being spirited away from Zurich by the force of Della's determination to leave the city well and truly behind them, but she knew that the Kirchhofer brothers were also on their way into the mountains.

  Doktor Frey drove out along the silver length of Zurichsee with a slight frown between his grey brows, although he kept up for Jane's benefit, a running commentary on the places of interest which they passed, which left nothing to be desired. They drove south, and then in an easterly direction on a road clinging to the white mountain wall, with all about them the white peaks glittering in pink-flushed magnificence and here and there the ice-blue glimpse of a glacier shining like a drawn sword in the dying sun. Then they were dropping down to a little, sheltered town on the edge of a lake and Doktor Frey drew up for tea.

  'This is about our nearest link with civilisation,' he smiled. 'Oberzach we reach by the mountain road. We have a small tourist hotel there, but it is not much patronised by English people. They prefer to go farther south, to Klosters or Davos, and, of course, St. Moritz.'

  Jane heard Della draw a deep breath, which might have been relief. Oberzach and its isolation would suit her very well.

  Darkness fell swiftly as the sun sank behind the peaks, but here and there a sudden flush would appear, pink on purest white, as an isolated mountain was caught in a noose of light. The moon came up, standing poised above the mountain rim and shedding a silver radiance on the valley which opened out before them. Clustered lights on the way ahead warned Jane that they were nearing a village, but the professor passed it without slackening speed. There appeared to be a narrow main street flanked by small chalets and an occasional shop, and farther on, in the shadow of the mountain wall, the outline of a large house came into view. It was low and rambling and many-eaved, and a light
burned companionably outside the stout pine door.

  'We have arrived!' Albert Frey announced, bringing the car to a halt. 'I hope you will be very comfortable here.'

  A small, stout woman in a black dress and skin like parchment, which made her look older than she really was, greeted them at the door.

  'This is my sister, Hilde,' the professor said. 'She will show you where you are to sleep.'

  'I am pleased to welcome you,' Hilde Frey told them in her careful English. 'Any friend of Doctor Hemmingway is also a friend of my brother and myself.'

  It was said with such sincerity and natural dignity that there could be no doubting Stuart's place in their affections, the pride they felt in having known him and assisted him with his career, and Jane followed the homely, black-clad figure of Hilde Frey up the carpetless staircase with the old, familiar hammering in her heart, the old tell-tale flush in her cheeks. It was as if Stuart himself had come home with them.

  Della's room was nearest, a large, airy apartment at the top of the staircase with a balcony overlooking the white mountain wall and almost touching it, or so it seemed in the uncertain light. She stood looking about her at the austere simplicity of uncarpeted boards and light pine furniture before she tossed her travelling hat down on the bed and turned to take her dressing-case from the maid who had followed them up.

  'It's all quite normal,' she said. 'Thanks to Stuart, I suppose. He knew I could never have survived the hospital atmosphere.'

  Hilde was waiting to escort Jane to her room.

  'My brother does not believe in uniforms,' she said as they walked along the corridor. 'It is not necessary for Miss Cortonwell to consider herself a complete invalid, and she will progress better here than she would in the sanatorium, although it is not unpleasant there. She does not yet accept her trouble philosophically, I see.'

  'There's so much at stake,' Jane answered. 'She's been the virile type all her life, apparently.'

  'You do not know her well?' The blue eyes looked surprised.

  'I only met her a few weeks ago when Doctor Hemmingway employed me as her companion.'

  'But you are a nurse P'

  'Oh, yes, I think that was necessary.'

  'It will be so, perhaps.' The blue eyes were studying Jane more closely now. 'We have give you the room which Doctor Hemmingway like best. He stayed here with us for some time when he first came to work at the sanatorium.'

  The room they entered was smaller than Della's, but it was at the end of the house and had windows on two sides, looking down the valley and out to the silvered mountains. Moonlight lay whitely across the polished boards before Hilde switched on the light, and in that split second Jane could imagine Stuart standing there, tall, broad-shouldered and dominant, his mocking eyes full on hers as she took possession of his room.

  Was she never to escape from the memory of him?

  Before she changed out of her travelling suit she switched off the lights and opened the long windows leading to her balcony, stepping out into the night air with a feeling of release. All about her the world was crystal-clear and the snow made a silence that could almost be felt. Peak upon silver peak rose above her, and far beneath the gleam of water shimmered on the valley floor. She felt, suddenly, as if she had come home.

  CHAPTER SIX

  For the first few weeks at Oberzach Della continued to preserve a dismaying silence. She obeyed all the rules, but Jane was aware of tension, of the subdued spirit threatening to rise to the surface at any moment.

  They led the normal life of the village, which made it necessary for Jane to learn to go about on skis.

  The first time she saw Della smile was at her amazing contortions on the slopes above the last chalet which formed a beginner's paradise of shallow hollows and gentle, undulating ground easy enough to negotiate without a great deal of skill.

  'I'll never be able to get about on these things!' she lamented, struggling to her feet once more. 'Who invented them, anyway?'

  'The Norwegians, I believe, but that's not quite the point!' Della was still laughing. 'The thing is that they're absolutely essential if we ever want to leave the valley on foot.'

  Her eyes had gone to the mountains with a look in them that was not very hard to define. Longing and defeat struggled with the desire for mastery and the knowledge of her own physical weakness. Her activities had been confined to the nearby slopes and the village street, but her thoughts were constantly among the shining peaks.

  Jane wondered how long they would be at Oberzach before there was some sign of improvement in her condition, and then she realised that there was improvement, a slight lessening of the persistent cough, a more natural colour in Della's cheeks, the visits to Doktor Frey at the clinic fewer and farther between.

  Her heart quickened at the thought, but she had already been warned against over-optimism.

  'Such a little thing can undermine all we have achieved,' Doktor Frey had said. 'Progress is necessarily slow.'

  Christmas came, and with it a host of entertainment. A tree was set up in the hotel grounds and hung with coloured lights and the sound of sleigh bells was everywhere. Doktor Frey said that a little variety would do them the world of good.

  'Always on the eve of Christmas my sister and I dine in the hotel and watch the dancing,' he explained. 'Many people come out from Zurich for the celebrations and sometimes we have visitors from further afield.' His eyes were sparkling, as if this would be a special occasion for him, too. 'At Christmas there are so many surprises and secret packages about that I feel myself returning to my youth!'

  'Wrap up well,' Doktor Frey cautioned when he brought the sleigh round to the terrace steps on Christmas eve. 'You must not catch cold.'

  It was his only reference to Della's health, that and his advice that full evening dress would be better left for a later date.

  Jane had brought out a cocktail frock with a gold thread woven into the material which almost made her glitter, and Della had chosen the inevitable black, a wonderful, bead-embroidered dinner gown with long, wide sleeves, which had come originally from Paris.

  They put on their coats, tied fine woollen scarves about their heads, and packed into the sleigh. It was the most wonderful Christmas scene Jane had ever witnessed, with jewel-bright stars overhead and glittering snow everywhere and the sound of joyous sleigh bells echoing back from the mountains. Why was it, then, that there seemed to be something missing, the rich kernel of living, the deep, absorbing sweetness of happiness and love?

  She thrust the question aside, looking forward to the evening ahead. The hotel was very full. Guests had gathered from the surrounding towns and there was not a vacant table anywhere. They left their coats in the care of the concierge and stepped out of their snow-boots. Lights had been switched on everywhere and the little hotel looked very gay. Two of the young doctors from the sanatorium farther up the valley and some of the nurses made up their party and they were crossing the polished floor to their alcove table when the occupants of another table rose with one movement and bowed. Hans and Martin Kirchhofer had come to the mountains for Christmas.

  'We must ask your friends to join us when the dancing begins,' Doktor Frey suggested with an encouraging smile in the brothers' direction. 'They are also known to me and are nice boys. Their father held the ski-jump record for many years and Hans was unbeaten in the slalom at one time.'

  Della's eyes were stony.

  'They may be waiting for a party,' she said, giving the professor no encouragement. 'They rarely go out on their own, and they won't have come up to the mountains just to dance, even at Christmas. I had no idea the hotel would be so busy or so popular.'

  It was plain that she shrank from meeting old acquaintances of the days when she had been one of just such a party and Jane felt that she could sympathise with her feeling of inadequacy. Della was impatient; she was demanding a quick cure, an unconditional return to the life she loved.

  When the meal was over the tables were quickly cleared by a
cheerful staff who seemed indefatigable in their efforts to ensure that Christmas should go with a swing, and the guests gathered round the walls to watch a group of dancers in national costume perform in the cleared space. It was all local talent, and the lively Swiss orchestra set Jane's feet tapping on the polished floor. When they began to dance, she did not lack partners and she was whirled round to the fast new rhythm of a Continental one-step until she was flushed and breathless. Her partner was one of the young doctors from the clinic and her eyes shone as brightly as the lights on the Christmas tree outside on the moonlit terrace. There seemed to be a strange new madness in her veins, and when the Kirchhofer brothers rose from their seats and joined them she welcomed them warmly.

  Half way through the evening Doktor Frey was called to the telephone. He came back with a deepened smile and a decided twinkle in his eyes, sitting down beside Jane as she returned from the dance floor.

  'I told you that Christmas was a time for secrets and surprises !' he said. 'I have just received a very pleasant surprise which you will share with me in a few minutes!'

  'You're making me terribly curious,' Jane declared. 'What can it possibly be?'

  'Someone from home, perhaps,' Martin Kirchhofer suggested. 'Do you not expect a friend to join you for the holidays?'

  'No—no, there is no one,' Jane was saying when she looked up and saw Stuart Hemmingway standing in the larch-draped doorway.

  His eyes held hers as he came across the room and she seemed to have lost all power of movement as she stood beside the young Swiss mountaineer waiting for him to reach them.

  'Hullo, Jane!' he said. 'This looks slightly different from Norchester, even at Christmas. How is our patient?'

  His grey eyes had gone to Della and Jane saw the gleam of satisfaction in them as he noticed the signs of improvement.