And upward， accordingly， went the pilgrims of theGreat Carbuncle， now treading upon the tops and thicklyinterwovenbranches of dwarf pines which by the growth
of centuries， though mossy with age， had barely reachedthree feet in altitude. Next they came to masses andfragments of naked rock heaped confusedly together likea cairn reared by giants in memory of a giant chief. Inthis bleak realm of upper air nothing breathed， nothinggrew； there was no life but what was concentred in theirtwo hearts； they had climbed so high that Nature herselfseemed no longer to keep them company. She lingeredbeneath them within the verge of the forest-trees， andsent a farewell glance after her children as they strayedwhere her own green footprints had never been. But soonthey were to be hidden from her eye. Densely and darkthe mists began to gather below， casting black spots ofshadow on the vast landscape and sailing heavily to onecentre， as if the loftiest mountain-peak had summoned acouncil of its kindred clouds. Finally the vapors weldedthemselves， as it were， into a mass， presenting theappearance of a pavement over which the wanderersmight have trodden， but where they would vainly havesought an avenue to the blessed earth which they hadlost. And the lovers yearned to behold that green earthagain—more intensely， alas！ than beneath a clouded skythey had ever desired a glimpse of heaven. They even feltit a relief to their desolation when the mists， creepinggradually up the mountain， concealed its lonely peak， andthus annihilated—at least， for them—the whole region ofvisible space. But they drew closer together with a fondand melancholy gaze， dreading lest the universal cloudshould snatch them from each other’s sight. Still， perhaps，they would have been resolute to climb as far and as highbetween earth and heaven as they could find foothold ifHannah’s strength had not begun to fail， and with thather courage also. Her breath grew short. She refused toburden her husband with her weight， but often totteredagainst his side， and recovered herself each time by afeebler effort. At last she sank down on one of the rockysteps of the acclivity.
“We are lost， dear Matthew，” said she， mournfully； “weshall never find our way to the earth again. And oh howhappy we might have been in our cottage！”
“Dear heart， we will yet be happy there，” answeredMatthew. “Look！ In this direction the sunshine penetratesthe dismal mist； by its aid I can direct our course to thepassage of the Notch. Let us go back， love， and dream nomore of the Great Carbuncle.”
“The sun cannot be yonder，” said Hannah， withdespondence. “By this time it must be noon； if there couldever be any sunshine here， it would come from above ourheads.”
“But look！” repeated Matthew， in a somewhat alteredtone. “It is brightening every moment. If not sunshine，what can it be？”
Nor could the young bride any longer deny that aradiance was breaking through the mist and changingits dim hue to a dusky red， which continually grew morevivid， as if brilliant particles were interfused with thegloom. Now， also， the cloud began to roll away from themountain， while， as it heavily withdrew， one object afteranother started out of its impenetrable obscurity intosight with precisely the effect of a new creation beforethe indistinctness of the old chaos had been completelyswallowed up. As the process went on they saw thegleaming of water close at their feet， and found themselveson the very border of a mountain-lake， deep， bright， clearand calmly beautiful， spreading from brim to brim of abasin that had been scooped out of the solid rock. A rayof glory flashed across its surface. The pilgrims lookedwhence it should proceed， but closed their eyes， with athrill of awful admiration， to exclude the fervid splendorthat glowed from the brow of a cliff impending over theenchanted lake.
For the simple pair had reached that lake of mysteryand found the long-sought shrine of the Great Carbuncle.
They threw their arms around each other and trembledat their own success， for as the legends of this wondrousgem rushed thick upon their memory they felt themselvesmarked out by fate， and the consciousness was fearful.
Often from childhood upward they had seen it shining likea distant star， and now that star was throwing its intensestlustre on their hearts. They seemed changed to oneanother’s eyes in the red brilliancy that flamed upon theircheeks， while it lent the same fire to the lake， the rocksand sky， and to the mists which had rolled back before itspower. But with their next glance they beheld an objectthat drew their attention even from the mighty stone. Atthe base of the cliff， directly beneath the Great Carbuncle，appeared the figure of a man with his arms extended in theact of climbing and his face turned upward as if to drinkthe full gush of splendor. But he stirred not， no more thanif changed to marble.
“It is the Seeker，” whispered Hannah， convulsivelygrasping her husband’s arm. “Matthew， he is dead.”
“The joy of success has killed him，” replied Matthew，trembling violently. “Or perhaps the very light of theGreat Carbuncle was death.”
“‘The Great Carbuncle’！” cried a peevish voice behindthem. “The great humbug！ If you have found it， pritheepoint it out to me.”
They turned their heads， and there was the cynicwith his prodigious spectacles set carefully on his nose，staring now at the lake， now at the rocks， now at thedistant masses of vapor， now right at the Great Carbuncleitself， yet seemingly as unconscious of its light as if allthe scattered clouds were condensed about his person.
Though its radiance actually threw the shadow of theunbeliever at his own feet as he turned his back upon theglorious jewel， he would not be convinced that there wasthe least glimmer there.