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A Woman’s Courage

           ButIhadnottakenintoaccounttheProfessor’simpatience.Ifoundhimshoutingandworkinghimselfupamidstacrowdofportersandmessengerswhowerealldepositingvariousloadsinthepassage.Ouroldservantwasatherwits’end.

           "Come,Axel,come,youmiserablewretch,"myunclecriedfromasfaroffashecouldseeme."Yourboxesarenotpacked,andmypapersarenotarranged;where’sthekeyofmycarpetbag?andwhathaveyoudonewithmygaiters?"

           Istoodthunderstruck.Myvoicefailed.Scarcelycouldmylipsutterthewords:

           "Arewereallygoing?"

           "Ofcourse,youunhappyboy!CouldIhavedreamedthatyonwouldhavegoneoutforawalkinsteadofhurryingyourpreparationsforward?"

           "Arewetogo?"Iaskedagain,withsinkinghopes.

           "Yes;thedayafterto-morrow,early."

           Icouldhearnomore.Ifledforrefugeintomyownlittleroom.

           Allhopewasnowatanend.Myunclehadbeenallthemorningmakingpurchasesofapartofthetoolsandapparatusrequiredforthisdesperateundertaking.Thepassagewasencumberedwithropeladders,knottedcords,torches,flasks,grapplingirons,alpenstocks,pickaxes,ironshodsticks,enoughtoloadtenmen.

           Ispentanawfulnight.NextmorningIwascalledearly.IhadquitedecidedIwouldnotopenthedoor.ButhowwasItoresistthesweetvoicewhichwasalwaysmusictomyears,saying,"MydearAxel?"

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