noon
The thunderstorm that had met them on the road had been raging fiercely in this mountain caldron , and was but just passing away in long , low mutterings , echoed and prolonged amid the precipitous walls of rock . Tall , trailing , spectre-like clouds slowly followed each other in solemn and stately procession up the valley , as though amid their light yet impenetrable folds of vapor they bore the invisible form of some mysterious being ; whether in triumph or in sorrow it was impossible to tell . The sun caught their gray crests and tinged them with rainbow colors ; and as they floated unhastingly along , the valley behind them seemed to spring into a new life of sunshine and mirth . It was past noon when Felicita was driven up to the hotel in the village , where , when she had last been at Engelberg , she had gone to look upon the dead face of the stranger , who was to carry away the sin of Roland Sefton , with the shame it would bring upon her , and bury it forever in his grave . It seemed but a few days ago , and she felt reluctant to enter the house again . In two or three hours when the horses were rested , she said to the driver , she would be ready to return to Stans . Then she wandered out into the village street , thinking she might come across some peasant at work alone , or some woman standing idly at her door , with whom she could fall into a casual conversation , and learn what she had come to ascertain .