CHAPTER XXIV: OLD IRON AND NEW STEEL
The clear sunshine of early summer was becoming low on the hillsides.
Sparkling and dimpling, the clear amber-coloured stream of the
Braunwasser rippled along its stony bed, winding in and out among the
rocks so humbly that it seemed to be mocked by the wide span of the
arch that crossed it in all the might of massive bulwarks, and
dignified masonry of huge stones.
Some way above, a clearing of the wood below the mountain showed
huts, and labourers apparently constructing a mill so as to take
advantage of the leap of the water from the height above; and, on the
left bank, an enclosure was traced out, within which were rising the
walls of a small church, while the noise of the mallet and chisel
echoed back from the mountain side, and masons, white with stone-
dust, swarmed around.
Across the bridge came a pilgrim, marked out as such by hat, wallet,
and long staff, on which he leant heavily, stumbling along as if both
halting and footsore, and bending as one bowed down by past toil and
present fatigue.
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