Her tears were gradually replaced by a quiet, even solemnly smiling expression of knowing. For did not something deeper than life or death abide in the quiet chambers of her heart—that greatest of all things which Saint Paul said would stand above even faith and hope in the gallery of eternity?

In the depths of her being she cherished the memory of his sparkling, radiant eyes, and the last sight of his lips calling her his “little darling,” with his assurance that he would see her again.

Jakob continued to plod through the darkness, wondering if this tomblike tunnel would ever end. They had been three weeks getting here, and now it seemed the tunnel of their final darkness would last three days!

All at once, far in the distance, he thought he descried a faint glimmer.

He quickened his pace, though he could not go too fast, for the stoney ground beneath their feet was uneven.

There could be no doubt now… yes—the light was becoming larger. They were coming to the end of the tunnel!

Behind him he could hear some of the younger ones exclaim ing for joy. The light grew, and in a minute or two they would not need his lantern.

They were running now!

There were people at the other end! Six or eight, he couldn’t tell. Now it looked like a whole crowd, half a village, was gathered outside the door of the tunnel!

What were they… why were they all shouting and waving their arms… what was the commotion! They were all yelling… were they being warned to go back?

Jakob emerged through the mouth of the tunnel, squinting in the sunlight, shielding his eyes, amid shouts and cheers and great boisterous outpourings of happiness.

Opening his eyes after a moment, he finally found his voice.

“But what is all the excitement?”

“You have made it!” cried a man in peasant garb, running up to shake his hand. “You have arrived… you are safe!”

“You mean—”

“Yes—yes, my friend. You are in Switzerland!”

At the word, all the rest of his nine comrades burst into tearful exclamations. Jakob found himself in Ulrike’s, then Heziah’s, then Sabina’s, then Ursula’s, then Marion’s arms, and before the handshaking and hugging celebrations were through, all ten found themselves in a huge, wide, unifying embrace, quietly weeping and praying.

“We thank you, our God,” prayed Heziah, and all the others joined him in expressions of gratefulness to God.

They became aware again of the throng of villagers from the high alpine region who had come to welcome them and were clamoring in what sounded like a hundred voices all about them. Their initial astonishment now turned to bewilderment.

“But who are you all?” exclaimed Ulrike Kropf, laughing at the seeming absurdity of her question.