The Apple Tree Read Online Free PDF

the whole thing sounded like an African travel tale, where a tribe of wild men pounced out of the jungle and carried off the female population into captivity.
    "I don't know what he's talking about," he said to Anna, "but I suppose they are riddled with some sort of superstition, which will appeal to you, with your Welsh blood."
    He laughed, he told me, making light of it, and then, being confoundedly sleepy, arranged their mattresses in front of the fire. Bidding the old man good evening, he and Anna settled themselves for the night.
    He slept soundly, in the profound sleep that comes after climbing, and woke suddenly, just before daybreak, to the sound of a cock crowing in the village outside.
    He turned over on his side to see if Anna was awake. The mattress was thrown back, and bare. Anna had gone...
    No one was yet astir in the house, Victor said, and the only sound was the cock crowing. He got up and put on his shoes and coat, went to the door and stepped outside.
    It was the cold, still moment that comes just before sunrise. The last few stars were paling in the sky. Clouds hid the valley, some thousands of feet below. Only here, near the summit of the mountain, was it clear.
    At first Victor felt no misgiving. He knew by this time that Anna was capable of looking after herself and was as sure-footed as he—more so, possibly. She would take no foolish risks, and anyway the old man had told them that the climb was not dangerous. He felt hurt, though, that she had not waited for him. It was breaking the promise that they should always climb together. And he had no idea how much of a start she had in front of him. The only thing he could do was to follow her as swiftly as he could.
    He went back into the room to collect their rations for the day—she had not thought of that. Their packs they could fetch later, for the descent, and they would probably have to accept hospitality here for another night.
    His movements must have roused his host, for suddenly the old man appeared from the inner room and stood beside him. His eye fell on Anna's empty mattress, then he searched Victor's eyes, almost in accusation.
    "My wife has gone on ahead," Victor said. "I am going to follow her."
    The old man looked very grave. He went to the open door and stood there, staring away from the village, up the mountain.
    "It was wrong to let her go," he said, "you should not have permitted it." He appeared very distressed, Victor said, and shook his head to and fro, murmuring to himself.
    "It's all right," said Victor. "I shall soon catch her up, and we shall probably be back again, soon after midday."
    He put his hand on the old fellow's arm, to reassure him.
    "I fear very much that it will be too late," said the old man. "She will go to them, and once she is with them she will not come back."
    Once again he used the word 'sacerdotesse', the power of the 'sacerdotesse', and his manner, his state of apprehension, now communicated itself to Victor, so that he too felt a sense of urgency, and of fear.
    "Do you mean that there are living people at the top of Monte Verità?" he said. "People who may attack her, and harm her bodily?"
    The old man began to talk rapidly, and it was difficult to make any sense out of the torrent of words that now sprang from him. No, he said, the 'sacerdotesse' would not hurt her, they hurt no one; it was that they would take her to become one of them. Anna would go to them, she could not help herself, the power was so strong. Twenty, thirty years ago, the old man said, his daughter had gone to them: he had never seen her again. Other young women from the village, and from down below, in the valley, were called by the 'sacerdotesse'. Once they were called they had to go, no one could keep them back. No one saw them again. Never, never. It had been so for many years, in his father's time, his father's father's time, before that, even.
    It was not known now when the 'sacerdotesse' first came to Monte Verità. No man