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diff --git a/14740-h/14740-h.htm b/14740-h/14740-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f7565af --- /dev/null +++ b/14740-h/14740-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10311 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Princess Passes, by Alice Muriel Williamson and Charles Norris Williamson</title> +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: 1.0em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: 1.0em; + line-height: 125%; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 8%; + margin-right: 8%; + } + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .heading {text-align: center; font-size: 125%;} + .bigheading {text-align: center; font-size: 160%;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i3 {display: block; margin-left: 3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em;} + hr.full { width: 100%; } + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + pre {font-size: 8pt;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14740 ***</div> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Princess Passes, by Alice Muriel +Williamson and Charles Norris Williamson</h1> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 558px;"><a name="ifp" id= +"ifp"></a> <img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="558" height="800" +alt= +""FOOD FOR THE GODS, AND ONLY A BOY TO EAT IT."—Page 102" + title= + ""FOOD FOR THE GODS, AND ONLY A BOY TO EAT IT"—Page 102" /> +</div> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h3>THE</h3> +<h1>PRINCESS PASSES</h1> +<p> </p> +<h4><i>A ROMANCE OF A MOTOR-CAR</i></h4> +<p> </p> +<h5>BY</h5> +<h2>C. N. and A. M. WILLIAMSON</h2> +<h4>Authors of <i>The Lightning Conductor</i></h4> +<p> </p> +<h4>ILLUSTRATED</h4> +<p> </p> +<h6>New York<br /> +Henry Holt and Company</h6> +<p> </p> +<h4>1905</h4> +<p> </p> +<hr /> +<p> </p> +<p class="center">TO</p> +<p class="heading">THE DEAR PRINCESS</p> +<p class="center">WHO, EACH YEAR, MAKES THE RIVIERA<br /> +SUNNIER FOR HER PRESENCE</p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<p>CHAPTER<br /> +<br /> +I. <a href="#CHAPTER_I">WOMAN DISPOSES</a><br /> +<br /> +II. <a href="#CHAPTER_II">MERCÉDÈS TO THE +RESCUE</a><br /> +<br /> +III. <a href="#CHAPTER_III">MY LESSON</a><br /> +<br /> +IV. <a href="#CHAPTER_IV">POTS, KETTLES, AND OTHER THINGS</a><br /> +<br /> +V. <a href="#CHAPTER_V">IN SEARCH OF A MULE</a><br /> +<br /> +VI. <a href="#CHAPTER_VI">THE WINGS OF THE WIND</a><br /> +<br /> +VII. <a href="#CHAPTER_VII">AT LAST!</a><br /> +<br /> +VIII. <a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">THE MAKING OF A MYSTERY</a><br /> +<br /> +IX. <a href="#CHAPTER_IX">THE BRAT</a><br /> +<br /> +X. <a href="#CHAPTER_X">THE SCRAPING OF ACQUAINTANCE</a><br /> +<br /> +XI. <a href="#CHAPTER_XI">A SHADOW OF NIGHT</a><br /> +<br /> +XII. <a href="#CHAPTER_XII">THE PRINCESS</a><br /> +<br /> +XIII. <a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">AFTERNOON CALLS</a><br /> +<br /> +XIV. <a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">THE PATH OF THE MOON</a><br /> +<br /> +XV. <a href="#CHAPTER_XV">ENTER THE CONTESSA</a><br /> +<br /> +XVI. <a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">A MAN FROM THE DARK</a><br /> +<br /> +XVII. <a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">THE LITTLE GAME OF +FLIRTATION</a><br /> +<br /> +XVIII. <a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">RANK TYRANNY</a><br /> +<br /> +XIX. <a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">THE LITTLE RIFT WITHIN THE +LUTE</a><br /> +<br /> +XX. <a href="#CHAPTER_XX">THE GREAT PAOLO</a><br /> +<br /> +XXI. <a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">THE CHALLENGE</a><br /> +<br /> +XXII. <a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">AN AMERICAN CUSTOM</a><br /> +<br /> +XXIII. <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">THERE IS NO SUCH GIRL</a><br /> +<br /> +XXIV. <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">THE REVENGE OF THE MOUNTAIN</a><br /> +<br /> +XXV. <a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">THE AMERICANS</a><br /> +<br /> +XXVI. <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">THE VANISHING OF THE PRINCE</a><br /> +<br /> +XXVII. <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">THE STRANGE MUSHROOM</a><br /> +<br /> +XXVIII. <a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">THE WORLD WITHOUT THE +BOY</a><br /> +<br /> +XXIX. <a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">THE FAIRY PRINCE'S RING</a><br /> +<br /> +XXX. <a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">THE DAY OF SUSPENSE</a><br /> +<br /> +XXXI. <a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">THE BOY'S SISTER</a></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> +<p> <br /> +<a href="#ifp">"FOOD FOR THE GODS, AND ONLY A BOY TO EAT IT"</a> +<i>Frontispiece</i><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#i14">"WE REALLY WANT YOU, SAID MOLLY"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#i40">"SOMETIMES JACK DROVE, WITH MOLLY BESIDE +HIM"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#i80">"THE BLUE FLAME OF THE CHAFING-DISH"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#i94">"I WAS SUDDENLY CLAPPED UPON THE SHOULDER"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#i100">"TREADING THE ROAD BUILT BY +NAPOLÉON"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#i114">"THERE WAS A PANG WHEN I TURNED MY BACK"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#i122">"THAT IS THE DÉJEUNER OF +NAPOLÉON"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#i148">"DOWN, TURK!" "BE QUIET, JUPITER!"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#i158">"ON THE GROUND CROUCHED THE BOY"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#i166">"'DO YOU KNOW,' SAID I, 'YOU ARE A VERY QUEER +BOY'"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#i202">"LOOKING OUT OF THE WINDOW I SAW HIM IN +CONVERSATION"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#i240">"SITTING WITH MY BACK TO THE HORSES"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#i262">"HERE WE WERE AT ANNECY"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#i348">"VOILÀ MONSIEUR!"</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href="#i390">"THE ROCK OF MONACO"</a></p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p> </p> +<p class="bigheading">THE PRINCESS PASSES</p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER +I</p> +<h4>Woman Disposes</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Away, away, from men and +towns,<br /></span> <span> To the wild wood and the +downs,<br /></span> <span class="i2">To the silent +wilderness."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 7em">—Percy Bysshe Shelley.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>"To your happiness," I said, lifting my glass, and looking the +girl in the eyes. She had the grace to blush, which was the least +that she could do, for a moment ago she had jilted me.</p> +<p>The way of it was this.</p> +<p>I had met her and her mother the winter before at Davos, where I +had been sent after South Africa, and a spell of playing fast and +loose with my health—a possession usually treated as we treat +the poor, whom we expect to have always with us. Helen Blantock had +been the success of her season in London, had paid for her triumphs +with a breakdown, and we had stopped at the same hotel.</p> +<p>The girl's reputation as a beauty had marched before her, +blowing trumpets. She was the prettiest girl in Davos, as she had +been the prettiest in London; and I shared with other normal, +self-respecting men the amiable weakness of wishing to monopolise +the woman most wanted by others. During the process I fell in love, +and Helen was kind.</p> +<p>Lady Blantock, a matron of comfortable rotundity of figure and a +placid way of folding plump, white hands, had, however, a +contradictorily cold and watchful eye, which I had feared at first; +but it had softened for me, and I accepted the omen. In the spring, +when my London tyrant had pronounced me "sound as a bell," I had +proposed to Helen. The girl said neither yes nor no, but she had +eyes and a smile which needed no translation, so I kissed her (it +was in a conservatory at a dance) and was happy—for a +fortnight.</p> +<p>Then came this bidding to dinner. Lady Blantock wrote the +invitation, of course, but it was natural to suppose that she did +it to please her daughter. It happened to be my birthday, and I +fancied that Helen had kept the date in mind. Besides, the +selection of the guests had apparently been made with an eye to my +pleasure.</p> +<p>There was Jack Winston, who had lately married an American +heiress, not because she was an heiress, but because she was +adorable; there was the heiress herself, <i>née</i> Molly +Randolph, whom I had known through Winston's letters before I saw +her lovely, laughing face; there was Sir Horace Jerveyson, the +richest grocer in the world, whom I suspected Lady Blantock of +actually regarding as a human being, and a suitable successor to +the late Sir James. Besides these, there was only myself, Montagu +Lane; and I believed that the dinner had been arranged with a view +to my claims as leading man in the love drama of which Helen +Blantock was leading lady, the other characters in the scene merely +being "on" as our "support." If this idea argued conceit, I was +punished.</p> +<p>It was with the <i>entrée</i> that the blow fell, and I +had a curious, impersonal sort of feeling that on every night to +come, should I live for a hundred years, each future +<i>entrée</i> of each future dinner would recall the +sensation of this moment. Something inside me, that was myself yet +not myself, chuckled at the thought, and made a note to avoid +<i>entrées</i>.</p> +<p>We had been asking each others' plans for August. Molly and Jack +had said that they were going to Switzerland to try the new +Mercédès, which had been given as a wedding present +to the girl by a school friend of that name, and of many +dollars.</p> +<p>Then, solely to be civil, not because I wanted to know, I asked +Sir Horace Jerveyson what he meant to do. Hardly did I even expect +to hear his answer, for I was looking at Helen, and she was in +great beauty. But the man's words jumped to my ears.</p> +<p>"Miss Blantock and I are going to Scotland," answered the +grocer, in his fat voice, which might have been oiled with his own +bacon. I stared incredulously. "Together," he informatively +added.</p> +<p>Lady Blantock laughed nervously. "I suppose we might as well let +this pass for an announcement?" she twittered. "Nell and Sir Horace +have been engaged a whole day. It will be in the <i>Morning +Post</i> to-morrow. Really, it has been so sudden that I feel quite +dazed."</p> +<p>It was at this point that I drank to the girl's happiness, +looking straight into her eyes.</p> +<p>I have a dim impression that the grocer, who no doubt mistook +her blush for maiden pride of conquest, essayed to make a speech, +and was tactfully suppressed by the future mother-in-law. I am +sure, though, that it was Helen who presently asked, in +pink-and-white confusion, if I, too, were bound for Scotland. "But, +of course you are," she added.</p> +<p>"No," I said. "I've been planning to take a walking tour as soon +as this tiresome season is over. I shall run across to France and +wander for a while. Eventually, I shall end up at Monte Carlo. A +friend whom I rather want to meet, will arrive there, at her villa, +in October."</p> +<p>I knew that Jack Winston would understand, for he had not been +the only one last winter who had written letters. But Jack was of +no importance to me at the instant. I was talking at Helen, and +she, too, would understand. I hoped that, in understanding, she +would suffer a pang, a small, insignificant, poor relation of the +pang inflicted upon me.</p> +<p>It is a thing unexplained by science why the miserable hours of +our lives should he fifty times the length of happy hours, though +stupid clocks, seeing nothing beyond their own hands, record both +with the same measurement. If we had sat at this prettily decorated +dinner table in the Carlton restaurant (I had thought it pretty at +first, so I give it the benefit of the doubt) through the night +into the next day, while other people ate breakfast and even +luncheon, the moments could not have dragged more heavily. But when +it appeared that we must have reached a ripe old age—those of +us who had been young with the evening—Lady Blantock thought +we might have coffee in the "palm court." We had it, and by rising +at last, sweet Molly Winston saved me from doing the musicians a +mischief. "Lord Lane, you promised to let us drop you, in the car," +she said to me. "Oh, I don't mean to 'drop you' literally. Our auto +has no naughty ways. I hope we are not carrying you off too +soon."</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a name="i14" id= +"i14"><img src="images/014.gif" width="700" height="471" alt= +""WE REALLY WANT YOU, SAID MOLLY"." title= +""WE REALLY WANT YOU, SAID MOLLY"." /></a></div> +<p>Too soon! I could have kissed her. "Angel," I murmured, when we +were out of the hotel, for in reality there had been no engagement. +"Thank you—and good-bye." I wrung her hand, and she gave a +funny little squeak, for I had forgotten her rings.</p> +<p>"What! Aren't you coming?" asked Jack.</p> +<p>"We really want you," said Molly. "Please let us take you home +with us—to supper."</p> +<p>"We've just finished dinner," I objected weakly.</p> +<p>"That makes no difference. Eating is only an incident of supper. +It's a meal which consists of conversation. Look, here's the car. +Isn't she a beauty? Can you resist her? Such a dear darling of a +girl gave her to me, a girl you would love. Can you resist +Mercédès?"</p> +<p>"I could resist anything if I could resist you. But seriously, +though you're very good, I think I'll walk to the Albany, +and—and go to bed."</p> +<p>"What nonsense! As if you would. You're quite a clever actor, +Lord Lane, and might deceive a man, but—I'm a woman. Jack and +I want to talk to you about—about that walking tour."</p> +<p>It would have been ungracious to refuse, since she had set her +heart upon a rescue. The chauffeur who had brought round the motor +surrendered his place to Molly, whom Jack had taught to drive the +new car, and I was given the seat of honour beside her. By this +time the streets were comparatively clear of traffic, and we shot +away as if we had been propelled from a catapult, Molly contriving +to combine a rippling flow of words with intricate tricks of +steering, in an extraordinary fashion which I would defy any male +expert to imitate without committing suicide and murder.</p> +<p>I was a determined enemy of motor cars, as Jack knew, and thus +far had avoided treachery to my favourite animal by never setting +foot in one. But to-night I was past nice distinctions, and +besides, I rather hoped that Molly and her Mercédès +would kill me. My nerves were too numb to tell my brain of any +remarkable sensations in the new experience, but I remember feeling +cheated out of what I had been led to expect, when without any +tragic event Molly stopped the car before their house in Park +Lane—another and bigger wedding present.</p> +<p>It was a brand-new toy bestowed by millionaire Chauncey Randolph +on his one fair daughter. Jack and Molly Winston had been married +in New York in June (when I would have been best man had it not +been for Helen), had spent their honeymoon somewhere in the bride's +native country, and had come "home" to England only a little more +than a fortnight ago. Jack's father, Lord Brighthelmston, had +furnished the house as his gift to the bride, and as he is a famous +connoisseur and collector, his taste, combined with Lady +Brighthelmston's management, had resulted in perfection. Already I +had been taken from cellar to attic and shown everything, so that +to-night there was no need to admire.</p> +<p>We went into the dining-room; why, I do not know, unless that +sitting round a table in the company of friends opens the heart and +loosens the tongue. I have reason to believe that on the table +there were things to eat, and especially to drink, but we gave them +the cut direct, though I recall vaguely the fizz of soda shooting +from the syphon, and afterwards holding a glass in my hand.</p> +<p>"Do you mind my saying what I think of Lady Blantock and her +daughter?" inquired Molly, with the meek sweetness of a coaxing +child. "Perhaps I oughtn't, but it would be a relief to my +feelings."</p> +<p>"I wonder if it would to mine?" I remarked impersonally, +addressing the ancient tapestry on an opposite wall.</p> +<p>"Let's try, and see," persisted Molly. "Calculating Cats! There, +it's out. I wouldn't have eaten their old dinner, except to please +you. I've known them only thirteen days, but I could have said the +same thing when I'd known them thirteen minutes. Indeed, I'm not +sure I didn't say it to Jack. Did I, or did I not. Lightning +Conductor?"</p> +<p>"You did," replied the person addressed, answering with a smile +to the name which he had earned in playing the part of Molly +Randolph's chauffeur, in the making of their love story.</p> +<p>"Women always know things about each other—the sort of +things the others don't want them to know," Molly went on; "but +there's no use in our warning men who think they are in love with +Calculating Cats, because they would be certain we were jealous. Of +course I shouldn't say this to you, Lord Lane, if you hadn't taken +me into your confidence a little—that night of my first +London ball."</p> +<p>"It was the night I proposed to Nell," I said, half to +myself.</p> +<p>"Sir Horace Jerveyson was at the ball, too."</p> +<p>"Talking to Lady Blantock."</p> +<p>"And looking at Miss Blantock. I noticed, and—I put things +together."</p> +<p>"Who would ever have thought of putting those two together?"</p> +<p>"I did. I said to myself and afterwards to Jack—may I tell +you what I said?"</p> +<p>"Please do. If it hurts, it will be a counter-irritant."</p> +<p>"Well, Jack had told me such heaps about you, you know, and he'd +hinted that, while we were having our great romance on a motor car, +you were having one on toboggans and skates at Davos, so I was +interested. Then I saw her at the ball, and we were introduced. She +was pretty, but—a prize white Persian kitten is pretty; also +it has little claws. She liked you, of course, because you're young +and good-looking. Besides, her father was knighted only because he +discovered a new microbe or something, while you're a 'hearl,' as +my new maid says."</p> +<p>"A penniless 'hearl,'" I laughed.</p> +<p>"You must have plenty of pennies, for you seem to have +everything a man can want; but that is different from what a woman +can want. I'm sure Helen Blantock and her mother had an +understanding. I can hear Lady Blantock saying, 'Nell, dear, you +may give Lord Lane encouragement up to a certain point, for it +would be nice to be a countess; but don't let him propose yet. Who +knows what may happen?' Then what did happen was Sir Horace +Jerveyson, who has more pounds than you have pennies. Helen would +console herself with the thought that the wife of a knight is as +much 'Lady So-and-So' as a countess. I hate that grocerman, and as +for Helen, you ought to thank heaven fasting for your escape."</p> +<p>"Perhaps I shall some day, but that day is not yet," I answered. +"However, there is still Monte Carlo."</p> +<p>"Shall you drown your sorrows in roulette?" asked Molly, looking +horrified.</p> +<p>"Who knows?"</p> +<p>"Don't let her misjudge you," cut in Jack. "Have you forgotten +what I told you about the Italian Countess, Molly?"</p> +<p>"Oh, the Countess with whom Lord Lane used to flirt at Davos +before he met Miss Blantock? Now I see. You said that you were +going to Monte Carlo, on purpose to make Helen Blantock +jealous."</p> +<p>"I'm afraid some spiteful idea of the sort was in my mind," I +admitted. "But the Countess is fascinating, and if she would be +kind, Monte Carlo might effect a cure of the heart, as Davos did of +the lungs."</p> +<p>"I believe you're capable of marrying for pique. Oh, if I could +prove to you that you aren't, and never have been, in love with +Helen!"</p> +<p>"It would be difficult."</p> +<p>"I'll engage to do it, if you'll take my prescription."</p> +<p>"What is that?"</p> +<p>"Cheerful society and amusement. In other words, Jack's and my +society, and a tour on our motor car."</p> +<p>"What, make a discord in the music of your duet?"</p> +<p>"Dear old boy, we want you," said Jack.</p> +<p>I was grateful. "I can't tell how much I thank you," I answered. +"But I'm in no mood for companionship. The fact is, I'm stunned for +the moment, but I fancy that presently I shall find out I'm rather +hard hit."</p> +<p>"No, you won't, unless you mope," broke in Molly. "On the +contrary, you'll feel it less every day."</p> +<p>"Time will show," said I. "Anyhow, I must dree my own +weird—whatever that means. I don't know, and never heard of +anyone who did, but it sounds appropriate. I should like to do a +walking tour alone in the desert, if it were not for the annoying +necessity to eat and drink. I want to get away from all the people +I ever knew or heard of—with the exceptions named."</p> +<p>"One would think you were the only person disappointed in love!" +exclaimed Molly. "Why, I have a friend who has really suffered. +Dear little Mercédès––"</p> +<p>Mrs. Winston stopped suddenly, drawing in her breath. She looked +startled, as if she had been on the point of betraying a state +secret; then her eyes brightened; she began abstractedly to trace a +leaf on the damask tablecloth. "I have thought of just the thing +for you," she said, apparently apropos of nothing. "Why don't you +buy or hire a mule to carry your luggage, and walk from Switzerland +down into Italy, not over the high roads, but do a pass or two, and +for the rest, keep to the footpaths among the mountains, which +would suit your mood?"</p> +<p>"The mule isn't a bad scheme," I replied. "A dirty man is an +independent animal, but a clean man, or one whose aim is to be +clean, is more or less helpless. If he has a weakness for a sponge +bag, a clean shirt or two, and evening things to change into after +a long tramp, he must go hampered by a caravan of beasts."</p> +<p>"One beast would do," said Molly practically, "unless you count +the muleteer, and that depends upon his disposition."</p> +<p>"I suppose muleteers have dispositions," I reflected aloud.</p> +<p>"Mules have. I've met them in America. But if you think my idea +a bright one, reward it by going with Jack and me as far as +Lucerne. There you can pick up your mule and your mule-man."</p> +<p>"'A picker-up of unconsidered trifles,'" I quoted dreamily. +"Well, if you and Jack are willing to tool me out on your motor car +as far as Lucerne, I should be an ungrateful brute to refuse. But +the difficulty is, I want to turn a sulky back on my kind at once, +while you two––"</p> +<p>"We're starting on the first," said Jack.</p> +<p>"What! No Cowes?"</p> +<p>"We wouldn't give a day on the car for a cycle of Cowes."</p> +<p>And so the plan of my consolation tour was settled, in the +supreme court beyond which there is no appeal. But man can do no +more than propose; and woman—even American woman—cannot +invariably "dispose" to the extent of remaking the whole world of +mules and men according to her whim.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"><img src= +"images/022.gif" width="300" height="208" alt="illustration" title= +"illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER +II</p> +<h4>Mercédès to the Rescue</h4> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"What is more intellectually exhilarating to the mind, and even +to the senses, than ... looking down the vista of some great road +... and to wonder through what strange places, by what towns and +castles, by what rivers and streams, by what mountains and valleys +it will take him ere he reaches his destination?"—<i>The +Spectator</i>.<br /> + </p> +</div> +<p>That Locker should have come in at the moment when I was trying +on my new automobile get-up was more than a pin-prick to my already +ruffled sensibilities—it was a knife-thrust.</p> +<p>"What on earth are you laughing at, man?" I demanded, whipping +off the goggles that made me look like a senile owl, and facing him +angrily, as he had a sudden need to cover his mouth with a decorous +palm.</p> +<p>"I beg pardon, me lord," he said. "It was coming on you sudden +in them things. I never thought to see you, me lord, in hotomobeel +clothes—you who always was so down on the 'orrid +machines."</p> +<p>"Well, help me out of them," I answered, feeling the justice of +Locker's implied rebuke. I twisted my wrists free of the elastic +wind-cuffs, and shed the unpleasantly heavy coat that Winston had +insisted I should buy.</p> +<p>"And you such a friend of the 'orse too, me lord," added Locker, +aware that he had me at a disadvantage.</p> +<p>I winced, and felt the need of self-justification. "You're +right," I said. "I never thought I should come to it. But all men +fall sooner or later, and I have held out longer than most. Don't +be afraid, though, that I am going to have a machine of my own: I +haven't quite sunk to that; if everybody else I know has. I'm only +going across France on Mr. Winston's car. He has a new +one—the latest make. He tells me that when he 'lets her out' +she does seventy an hour."</p> +<p>"Wot—miles, me lord?" Locker almost dropped the coat of +which he had disencumbered me.</p> +<p>"Kilometres. It's the speed of a good quick train."</p> +<p>It was strange; but until the night of that hateful dinner at +the Carlton, I had never been in a motor car. Half my friends had +them, or meant to have them; but in a kind of lofty obstinacy I had +refused to be a "tooled down" to Brighton or elsewhere. Fancying +myself considerably as a whip, and being an enthusiastic lover of +horses, I had taken up an attitude of hostility to their mechanical +rivals, and chuckled with malice whenever I saw in the papers that +any acquaintance had been hauled up for going beyond the "legal +limit."</p> +<p>But on the night of the Carlton dinner, when Molly Winston +whirled me from Pall Mall to Park Lane, that part of me which was +not frozen by the grocer (the part the psychologists call the +"unconscious secondary self") told me that I was having another +startling experience apart from being jilted.</p> +<p>Winston is my oldest friend, and when his letters were mere +pæans in praise of automobilism, I looked upon his fad with +compassionate indulgence. Then we met in London after his marriage, +and between the confidences which we had exchanged, he managed to +sandwich in something about motor cars. But I ruthlessly swept +aside the interpolation as unworthy of notice. When he suggested a +drive in the new car, I called up all my tact to evade the +invitation. If the active part of me had not been stunned on the +night when Helen threw me over, I believe I should have kept bright +the jewel of consistency. But the kindness of Molly in +circumstances the opposite of kind, had undone me. Here I was, +pledged to get myself up like a figure of Fun, and sit glued for +days to the seat of a noisy, jolting, ill-smelling machine which I +hated, feeling (and looking), in my goggles and hairy coat, like a +circus monkey or a circus dragon.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, I could confess the motor car to my man with +comparative calmness. That I should fall was no doubt a +disappointment to him. As a conscientious snob and a cherisher of +conservative ideals, he could mention it to other valets without a +blush. The mules however, towards which the motor was to lead, was +a different thing; and while poor Locker excavated me from the +motor coat, my mind was busily devising means to keep the horrid +secret of the mule hidden from him forever.</p> +<p>There was but one way to do this.</p> +<p>"I suppose, me lord, I'm to travel with the 'eavy luggage, and +take rooms at the end of the journey," he suggested.</p> +<p>The crucial moment had come. If a man can support existence +without the girl he loves, thought I, surely it must be possible +for him to live without a valet. "No, Locker," I said firmly. "I am +to be Mr. and Mrs. Winston's guest, and we—er—shall +have no fixed destination. I shall be obliged to leave you +behind."</p> +<p>"Very good, me lord," returned Locker in a meek voice. "Very +good, me lord; <i>has</i> you will. I do 'ope you won't suffer from +dust, with no one to keep you in proper repair, as you might say. +But no doubt it will be only for a short time."</p> +<p>Knowing that days, weeks, and even months might pass while I +consorted with motors and mules, far from valets and civilisation, +I was nevertheless toward enough to hint that Locker must be +prepared for a wire at any time. I had often derived a quaint +pleasure from the consciousness that he despised my bookish habits +and certain unconventionalities not suited to a 'hearl'; but one +must draw the line somewhere, and I drew it at the mule. I would +give a good deal rather than Locker should suspect me of the +mule.</p> +<p>It was arranged that we should leave from Jack's house in Park +Lane, and as we wanted to reach Southampton early, our start was to +be at nine o'clock. "In France," Jack had said to me, "we could +reel off the distance almost as quickly as the train; but in our +blessed land, with its twenty miles an hour speed limit, its narrow +winding roads, chiefly used in country places as children's +playgrounds, and its police traps, motoring isn't the undiluted joy +it ought to be. The thing to prepare for is the unexpected."</p> +<p>At half-past eight at Jack's door, I bade an almost affectionate +farewell to the last cabhorse with which for many wild weeks I +should have business dealings. The untrammelled life before me +seemed to be signalised by the lonely suit case which was the one +article of luggage I was allowed to carry on the motor. A +portmanteau was to follow me vaguely about the Continent, and I had +visions of a pack to supersede the suit case, when my means of +transport should be a mule. Sufficient for the motor was the +luggage thereof, however, and when my neat leather case was +deposited in Jack's hall, I was rewarded with Molly's approving +comment that it would "make a lovely footstool."</p> +<p>We had breakfast together, as though nothing dreadful were about +to happen, and I heartened myself up with strong coffee. By the +time we had finished, and Molly had changed herself from a radiant +girl into a cream-coloured mushroom, with a thick, straight, +pale-brown stem, the Thing was at the door—Molly's idol, the +new goddess, with its votive priest pouring incense out of a +long-nosed oil can and waving a polishing rag for some other mystic +rite.</p> +<p>This servant of the car answered to the name of Gotteland, and +having learned from Jack that he had started life as a jockey in +Hungary, I thought evil of him for abandoning the horse for the +machine. He evidently belonged to that mysterious race of beings +called suddenly into existence by a vast new industry; mysterious, +because how or why a man drifts or jumps into the occupation of +chauffeur is never explained to those who see only the finished +article. Jack praised him as a model of chauffeury accomplishments, +among which were a knowledge of seventeen languages more or less, +to say nothing of dialects, and a temper warranted to stand a burst +tyre, a disordered silencer, an uncertain ignition, and +(incidentally) a broken heart—all occurring at the same time. +Despite these alleged perfections, I distrusted the cosmopolitan +apostate on principle, and was about to turn upon his leather-clad +form a disapproving gaze, when I dimly realised that it would be a +case of the pot calling the kettle black. Instead, I smiled +hypocritically as we "took a look" at the car before lending it our +lives.</p> +<p>"I hope the brute isn't vicious; doesn't blow up or explode, or +shed its safety valve, or anything," I remarked with a +facetiousness which in the circumstances did me credit.</p> +<p>Gotteland answered with the pitying air of the professional for +the amateur. "The <i>one</i> thing an automobile can't do, sir, is +to blow up."</p> +<p>I was glad to hear this, in spite of the strong coffee lately +swallowed, but on the other hand there were doubtless a great many +other equally disagreeable things which it could do. Of course, if +it were satisfied with merely killing me, neatly and thoroughly, I +still felt that I should not mind; indeed, would be rather grateful +than otherwise. But there were objections, even for a jilted lover, +to being smeared along the ground, and picked up, perhaps, without +a nose, or the proper complement of legs, or vertebræ.</p> +<p>"Anyhow, the beast has a certain meretricious beauty," I +admitted. "Those red cushions and all that bright metal work give +an effect of luxury."</p> +<p>Gotteland revenged his idol with another smile. "Amateurs +<i>do</i> notice such things, sir," said he. "Professionals don't +care much about the body; it's the motor that interests them." He +lifted a sort of lattice which muzzled the dragon's mouth, +disclosing some bulbous cylinders and a tangle of pipes and wires. +"It's the <i>dernier cri</i>. That engine will work as long as +there's a drop of essence in the carburetter, and will carry you at +forty miles an hour, without feeling a hill which would set many +cars groaning and puffing. It will do the work of twenty horses, +and more––"</p> +<p>"Yet I shouldn't be <i>really</i> surprised if one horse had to +tow it some day," I murmured more to myself than to him, but Molly +heard me, through her mushroom.</p> +<p>"You'll soon apologise to Mercédès for your doubts +of her, for motors are their own missionaries," she said, her eyes +laughing through a triangular talc window. "You will have learned +to love her before you know what has happened, just as you would +the real Mercédès, if you could see her."</p> +<p>Curious, I thought, that Molly, knowing my state of mind, should +be constantly weaving into our conversation some allusion to the +namesake and giver of her car. I had never in my life been less +interested in the subject of extraneous girls, and with all Molly's +tact, it seemed strange that she should not recognise this. +However, she did not appear to expect an answer, and we were soon +settled in the car, Molly, as I have said, looking like a graceful +fungus growth, Jack and I like haggard goblins.</p> +<p>Molly was to drive, and Jack insisted that I should sit in one +of the two absurdly comfortable armchair arrangements in front. The +chauffeur was presently to curl like a tendril round a little +crimson toadstool at our feet, and Jack took the tonneau in lonely +state. This was, no doubt, an act of fine self-abnegation on his +part, nevertheless I could have envied him his safe retirement, +from my place of honour, with no noble horses in front to save +Molly and me from swift destruction.</p> +<p>Physically, we were very snug, however. The luggage was fitted +into spaces especially made for it; long baskets on the mudguards +at the side were stowed with maps and guide-books for the tour, and +(as Molly remarked in the language of her childhood) a "few nice +little 'eaties' to make us independent on the way."</p> +<p>There was also a sort of glorified tea basket, containing, Molly +said, a chafing-dish, without which no self-respecting American +woman ever travelled, and by whose aid wonderful dishes could be +turned out at five minutes' notice in a shipwreck, on a desert +island, or while a tyre was being mended.</p> +<p>As I mentally finished my last will and testament, Gotteland +gave a short twist to the dragon's tail, which happened to be in +front. Instantly a heart began to throb, throb. The chauffeur +sprang to his toadstool. Molly moved a lever which said +"R-r-r-tch," pressed one of her small but determined American feet +on something, and the car gave a kind of a smooth, gliding leap +forward, as if sent spinning from an unseen giant's hand.</p> +<p>Though it was but just after nine, the early omnibus had +gathered its tribute of toiling or shopping worms, and was too +prevalent in Park Lane for my peace of mind. There were also +enormous drays, which looked, as our frail bark passed under their +bows, like huge Atlantic liners. The hansoms were fierce black +sharks skimming viciously round us, and there were other monsters +whose forms I had no time to analyse: but into the midst of this +seething ocean Molly pitilessly hurled us. How we slipped into +spaces half our own width and came out scatheless, Providence alone +knew, but it seemed that kindly Fate must soon tire of sparing us, +we tempted it so often.</p> +<p>"Here's a smash!" I said to myself grimly, at the corner of +Hamilton Place, and it flashed through my brain, with a mixture of +self-contempt and pity, that my last thought before the end would +be one of sordid satisfaction because a fortnight ago I had +reluctantly paid an accident assurance premium.</p> +<p>My fingers yearned with magnetic attraction toward the arms of +the seat, but with all that was manly in me I resisted. I wreathed +my face with a smile which, though stiff as a plaster mask, was a +useful screen; and as South African tan is warranted not to wear +off during a lifetime, I could feel as pale as I pleased without +visible disgrace.</p> +<p>"How do you like it?" asked Molly.</p> +<p>"Glorious," I breezily returned.</p> +<p>"Ah, I <i>thought</i> you would enjoy it, when—as they say +of babies—you 'began to take notice.' The other night, of +course, you were a little absent-minded. Besides, it was dark, and +the streets were dull and empty. A motor <i>is</i> just as nice as +a horse, isn't it? Do say so, if only to please me."</p> +<p>Now I knew why the victims of the Inquisition told any lie which +happened to come handy. I said that it was marvellous how soon the +thing got hold of one; and Molly's mushroom reared itself proudly. +"That is because you are so brave," said the poor, deceived girl. +"Of course it's having been a soldier, and all that. People who've +been in battle wouldn't think anything of a first motor experience +("Oh, wouldn't they?" I inwardly chortled). But, do you know, Lord +Lane, I've actually seen men who were quite brave in other ways, +feel a little <i>queer</i> the first time they drove in an +automobile through traffic, or even in quiet country roads? I don't +suppose you can understand it."</p> +<p>"I couldn't," I replied valiantly, "were not imagination the +first ingredient of sympathy. But—er—don't you think +that omnibus in front is rather large—near, I mean? You +mustn't exert yourself to talk, you know, for my sake, if you need +to give your whole attention to driving."</p> +<p>"I like to talk. It's no exertion at all," said Molly, and I +fancy I responded with some base flattery, though by this time that +smile of mine was so hard you could have knocked it off with a +hammer.</p> +<p>"The first day I went through traffic," she continued, "my toes +had the funniest sensation, as if they were turning up in my shoes. +One seemed to come so awfully <i>near</i> everything, without any +horses in front."</p> +<p>At this very moment my own toes happened to feel as if they were +pasted back on my insteps; yet I laughed heartily at the +suggestion, and to my critical ear there was only a slight +hollowness in the ring, although before us now loomed a huge +railway van. It was loaded with iron bars, their rusty ends hanging +far out and sagging towards the roadway, enough to frighten the +gentlest automobile. Ours seemed far from gentle, and besides, we +could not possibly stop in time to avoid impalement on the iron +spikes. Molly and I, if not Jack and the chauffeur, must surely die +a peculiarly unpleasant and unnecessary death, in the morning of +our lives, just as other more fortunate people were starting out, +safe and happy in exquisitely beautiful omnibuses, to begin their +day's pleasure. And Molly believed, because I had been in a few +battles, with nothing worse than a bee-like buzzing of some +innocent bullets in my ears, that I should be callous in a motor +car.</p> +<p>However, the bravest soldiers are those who feel fear, and fight +despite it. I maintain that I deserved a Victoria Cross for the +grim smile which did not leave my lips as I braced myself for the +death-dealing blow. But, as in a dream one finds without surprise +that the precipice, over which one is hanging by an eyebrow, +obligingly transforms itself into a bank of violets, so did the +dragon which had been whirling us to destruction magically change +into a swan-like creature skimming just out of harm's way.</p> +<p>I now reflected, with a vague sense of self-disgust, that, +instead of being glad to leave the world which had denied me Helen, +I had felt distinctly annoyed at the necessity, had not given a +thought to my lost love, and had been thankful for the mere gift of +life without her.</p> +<p>"I'm so glad you don't think I'm reckless," said Molly, as +quietly as though we had not passed through a crisis; and indeed to +this day I do not believe she would admit that we had.</p> +<p>"I'm really very careful; Jack says I am. He takes tremendous +risks sometimes, or at least it seems so when you're not driving. +You'll see the difference when <i>he's</i> in front."</p> +<p>I refrained from comment, but I had never valued Jack's +friendship less, and I was in the act of concocting a telegram from +Locker which might recall me to London, when from the speed of the +Scotch express we slowed down to a pace which would have been mean +even for a donkey. We continued this rate of progression for a +peaceful but all too brief interval; then in the line of traffic +opened a narrow canal which I hoped might escape Molly's eye. But +there was no such luck. She saw; we leaped into it, raced down it, +and before I could have said "knife," or any other equally +irrelevant word of one syllable, we had left everything else +behind.</p> +<p>I expected to be (to put it mildly) as uncomfortable as I had +been before my short respite, yet strange to say, this was not the +case. I did not know what was the matter with me, but suddenly I +seemed to be enjoying myself. The tension of muscles relaxed, as if +a string which had held them tight—like the limbs of a +Jumping Jack—had been let go. I leaned back against the +crimson cushions of my seat with a new and singular sense of +well-being. Once, as a volunteer in South Africa, I had felt the +same when, after having a splinter of bone taken out, under +chloroform, I had waked up to be told it was all over. This wasn't +over, but somehow, I didn't want it to be.</p> +<p>We took Putney Bridge at a gulp, and swallowed the long hill to +Wimbledon Common in the fashion of a hungry anaconda; but before we +arrived at this stage a thing happened which unexpectedly raised my +opinion of motor cars. It was in the Fullham Road that we glided +close behind a hansom bowling along at a rattling pace. Traffic on +our right prevented us from passing, and Molly had just remarked +how vexing it was to be kept back by a mere hansom, when plunk! +down went the little nag on his nose. It was one of those tumbles +in which the horse collapses in a limp heap without any sliding, +though he had been going fast downhill, and of course the hansom +stopped dead. The whole scene was as quick as the flashing of a +biograph. The driver struggled to keep his seat, clawing at the +shiny roof of the cab; his fare, in a silk hat and pathetic frock +coat, shot from the vehicle like a flying Mercury, and this time it +seemed that nothing could keep us from telescoping the vehicle thus +suddenly arrested a few feet ahead.</p> +<p>But I reckoned without Molly. Her little gloved hand, and the +high-heeled American toys she had for feet, moved like lightning. +Without any violent wrench, the car stopped apparently in less than +its own length, and as, even thus, we were too close upon the cab, +Molly threw a quick glance behind, then bade Mercédès +glide gently backward.</p> +<p>With the fall of the horse, Jack rose in the tonneau, with the +instinct of protection over Molly. But he said not a word till she +had guided the car to safety, when he gave her a little +congratulatory pat on the shoulder. "Good girl; that was perfect. +Couldn't have been better," he murmured. We waited until we had +seen that neither man nor horse was badly hurt, and then sped on +again, with a certain respect for the motor rankling in my +reluctant heart. Comparing its behaviour with that of an +automobile, Hansom's ironically named "Patent Safety" had not a +wheel to stand upon.</p> +<p>When we were clear of Kingston, and winging lightly along the +familiar Portsmouth Road, with its dark pines and purple gleams of +heather, I began to feel an exhilaration scarcely short of +treacherous to my principles. We were now putting on speed, and +running as fast as most trains on the South-Western, yet the +sensation was far removed from any I had experienced in travelling +by rail, even on famous lines, which give glorious views if one +does not mind cinders in the eye or the chance of having one's head +knocked off like a ripe apple. I seemed to be floating in a great +opaline sea of pure, fresh air; for such dust as we raised was +beaten down from the tonneau by the screen, and it did not trouble +us. Our speed appeared to turn the country into a panorama flying +by for our amusement; and yet, fast as we went, to my surprise I +was able to appreciate every feature, every incident of the road. +Each separate beauty of the way was threaded like a bead on a +rosary.</p> +<p>Here was Sandown Park, which I had regarded as the goal of a +respectable drive from town, with horses; but we were taking it, so +to speak, in our first stride. Esher was no sooner left behind than +quaint old sleepy Cobham came to view; between there and Ripley was +but a gliding step over a road which slipped like velvet under our +wheels. Then a fringe of trees netted across a blue, distant sea of +billowing hills, and a few minutes later we were sailing under +Guildford's suspended clock.</p> +<p>It was somewhere near the hour of one when Molly brought the car +gently to a standstill by the roadside, and announced that she +would not go a yard further without lunch. The chauffeur +successfully took up the part of butler at a moment's notice, +busying himself with the baskets, spreading a picnic cloth under a +shady tree, and putting a bottle of Graves to cool in a +neighbouring brook. Meanwhile Molly was doing mysterious things +with her chafing-dish and several little china jars. By the time +Jack and I had with awkward alacrity bestowed plates, glasses, +knives, and forks on the most hummocky portions of the cloth, white +and rosy flakes of lobster <i>à la</i> Newburg were +simmering appetisingly in a creamy froth.</p> +<p>I was deeply interested in this cult of the chafing-dish, which +could, in an incredibly short time, serve up by the wayside a +little feast fit for a king—who had not got dyspepsia.</p> +<p>"Can't you imagine the programme if we had gone to an inn?" +asked Jack, proud of his bride's handiwork. "We should have walked +into a dingy dining-room, with brown wallpaper and four steel +engravings of bloodthirsty scenes from the Old Testament. A sleepy +head waiter would have looked at me with a polite but puzzled +expression, as if at a loss to know why on earth we had come. I +should have enquired deprecatingly: 'What can you give us for +lunch?' What would he have replied?"</p> +<p>"There's only one possible answer to that conundrum, and it +doesn't take any guessing," said I. "The reply would have been: +'Cold 'am or beef, sir; chops, if you choose to wait.' Those words +are probably now being spoken to some hundreds of sad travellers +less fortunate than our favoured and sylvan selves."</p> +<p>"If you would like to have a chafing-dish in your family," +remarked Jack, "you'll have to marry an American girl."</p> +<p>"I'm no Duke," said I.</p> +<p>"Earls aren't to be despised, if there are no Dukes handy," said +Molly. "Besides, it's getting a little obvious to marry a +Duke."</p> +<p>"Which is the reason you took up with a chauffeur," retorted +Jack.</p> +<p>"You call yourself a 'penniless hearl,'" went on Molly, "and I +suppose, of course, you are 'belted.' All earls are, in poetry and +serials, which must be convenient when you're <i>really</i> very +poor, because if you're hungry, you can always take a reef in your +belt, while mere plain men have no such resource. Have you got +yours on now?"</p> +<p>"It's in pawn," said I. "It's no joke about being penniless. +Jack will tell you I'm obliged to let my dear old house in +Oxfordshire, and the only luxuries I can afford are a few horses +and a few books. I prefer them to necessities—since I can't +have both."</p> +<p>I thought that Molly might laugh, but instead she looked +abnormally grave. "Jack told me," she said, "how, when you and he +came over to America, six or seven years ago, to shoot big game, +you avoided girls, for fear people might suppose your alleged bear +hunt was really an heiress hunt. I forgive Jack, because that was +in the dark ages, before he knew there was a Me. But why should a +girl be shunned by nice men solely because she's an heiress? Can't +she be as pretty and lovable in herself as a poor girl?"</p> +<p>"She can," I replied, emphasising my words with a look in +Molly's face. "No doubt she often is. But I do wish some American +girls who marry men from our side of the water wouldn't let the +papers advertise their weddings as 'functions' (sounds like obscure +workings of physical organs), attended by the families of their +exclusive acquaintance, worth, when lumped together, a billion of +dollars or so."</p> +<p>"I know. It's as if they were prize pigs at a fair, and were of +no importance except for their dollars," sighed Molly. "And then, +the detectives to watch the presents! It's disgusting. But some of +our newspapers are like Mr. Hyde. Poor Dr. Jekyll can't do anything +with him; and anyhow, you needn't think we're all like that. I have +a friend who is one of the greatest heiresses in America, but she +hates her money. It has made her very unhappy, though she's only +twenty-one years old. If you could see Mercédès, with +her lovely, strange sad face, and big, wistful +eyes––"</p> +<p>"I can think of Mercédès only with a shiny grey +body, upholstered crimson; and for eyes, huge acetylene lamps," I +was rude enough to break in; for I fancied that I saw what Mistress +Molly would fain be up to, and my heart was not of the rubber-ball +description, to be caught in the rebound. If Molly cherished a +secret intention of springing her peerless friend +Mercédès upon me, during this tour which she had +organised, it seemed better for everyone concerned that the hope +should be nipped in the bud. It was with unwonted meekness that she +yielded to being suppressed, and I suffered immediate pangs of +remorse. To atone, I did my best to be agreeable. All the way to +Southampton I praised automobiles in general and hers in +particular; admitted that in half a day I had become half a +convert; and soon I had the pleasure of believing that the divine +Molly had forgotten my sin.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;"><img src= +"images/039.gif" width="320" height="146" alt="illustration" title= +"illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a name="i40" id= +"i40"><img src="images/040.gif" width="700" height="556" alt= +""SOMETIMES JACK DROVE, WITH MOLLY BESIDE HIM"." title= +""SOMETIMES JACK DROVE, WITH MOLLY BESIDE HIM"." /></a></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_III" id= +"CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</p> +<h4>My Lesson</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"The broad road that +stretches."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 8em">—R.L. Stevenson.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>Forty-eight hours later we drove out of Havre, bound for Paris +and Lucerne, where I was to "pick up" that mule, and become a lone +wanderer on the face of the earth. Gotteland had seen to the +shipping of the car from Southampton, while we spent a day on the +crowded sands of Trouville, where I was so lucky as to meet no one +I knew.</p> +<p>It was only now, Winston said, that I should realise to the full +the joys of motoring, impossible to taste under present conditions +in England. Our way was to lie along the Seine to Paris, and Jack +recalled to us Napoleon's saying that "Paris, Rouen, and Havre form +only one city, of which the Seine is the highway."</p> +<p>Last year, these two had seen the country of the Loire together, +under curious and romantic conditions, and now Molly was to be +shown another great river in France. We changed places in the car, +like players in the old game of "stage coach." Sometimes Molly had +the reins, and I the seat of honour by her side. Sometimes Jack +drove, with Molly beside him, I in the tonneau; then I knew that +they were perfectly happy, though Gotteland and I could hear every +word they said, and their talk was generally of what we passed by +the way, occasionally interspersed by a "Do you remember?"</p> +<p>Now, if there is an insufferable companion under the sun, it is +the average "well-informed person" who continually dins into your +ears things you were born knowing. This I resent, for I flatter +myself that I was born knowing a good many exceptionally +interesting and exciting things which can't be learned by studying +history, geography, or even <i>Tit-Bits</i>. Jack Winston, however, +though he has actually taken the trouble to house in his memory an +enormous number of facts,—"those brute beasts of the +language,"—has so tamed and idealised the creatures as to +make them not only tolerable but attractive. I can even hear him +tell things which I myself don't know or have forgotten, without +instantly wishing to throw a jug of water at his good-looking head; +indeed, I egg him on and have been tempted to jot down an item of +information on my shirt cuff, with a view of fixing it in my mind, +and eventually getting it off as my own.</p> +<p>Whenever Molly or I admired any object, natural or artificial, +it seemed that Jack knew all about it. She showed a flattering +interest in everything he said, and, fired by her compliments, he +suddenly exclaimed: "Look here, Molly, suppose we don't hurry on, +the way we've been planning to do? Last year we had that wonderful +chain of feudal châteaux in Touraine, to show us what kingly +and noble life was in dim old days. Now, all along the Seine and +near it, we shall have some splendid churches instead of castles. +We can hold a revel, almost an orgie, of magnificent ecclesiastical +architecture if we like to spend the time. I've got Ferguson's book +and Parker's, anyhow, and why shouldn't we run off the beaten +track––"</p> +<p>"No, dearest," said his wife gently, but firmly, and I could +have hugged her. My bump of reverence for the Gothic in all its +developments is creditably large, but in my present "lowness of +mind," as Molly would say, a long procession of cold, majestic +cathedrals would have reduced me to a limp pulp. "No," Molly went +on, "I can't help thinking that the churches would be a sort of +anticlimax after our beloved, warm-blooded châteaux. It would +be like being taken to see your great-grandmother's grave when +you'd been promised a matinée. You know we engaged to get +Lord Lane into his lonely fastnesses as soon as +possible––"</p> +<p>"I don't believe Monty's in any hurry for them," said Jack, +crestfallen. "You ask him if––"</p> +<p>"He'd be too polite to be truthful. No, I'm sure that edelweiss +will do him more good than rose windows, and mountain air than +incense."</p> +<p>As she thus prescribed for my symptoms, she gazed through her +talc window with marked particularity into her "Lightning +Conductor's" un-goggled face. It wore a puzzled expression at +first, which suddenly brightened into comprehension. "Do they +repent having brought me along, and want to get rid of me?" I asked +myself. I could scarcely believe this. They were too kind and +cordial; still, something in that look exchanged between them +hinted at a secret which concerned me, and my curiosity was +pricked. Nevertheless, I was grateful to Molly, whatever her motive +might be for hurrying on to Paris. Fond as I was of the two, their +happy love, constantly though inadvertently displayed before my +eyes, was not a panacea for the wound which they were trying to +cure, and I still longed for high Alpine solitudes.</p> +<p>I had let myself drift into a gloomy thought-land, when it +occurred to Jack that I had better learn to drive. No doubt the +clear fellow fancied that I "wanted rousing" and certainly I got +it. Luckily, as a small boy, I had taken an interest in mechanics, +to the extent of various experiments actively disapproved of by my +family, and the old fire was easily relit. I listened to his +harangue in mere civility at first, then with a certain eagerness. +Molly sat in the tonneau, Jack driving, full-petrol ahead, and I +beside him. We talked motor talk, and he forgot the churches, +except when they seemed actually to come out of their way to get in +ours. I listened, and at the same time gathered impressions of +roads—long, strange, curiously individual roads.</p> +<p>Someone has written of the "long, long Indian day." I should +like to write of the long, long roads of France. They had never +before had any place in my thoughts. Paris and the Riviera had been +France for me till now. I had never been intimate, never even got +on terms of real friendship with any country save my own; and I had +sometimes been narrow enough to take a kind of pride in this. The +sweet English country had yielded up her secrets to me; I knew her +spring whimsies, her soft summer moods, her autumn dreams, her +wintry tempers, and I had vaunted my faithfulness and love. But +here was France in prime of summer, giving me of her best. My heart +warmed to her loveliness, and I sniffed the perfume of her breath, +mysteriously characteristic as the chosen perfume of some loved +woman's laces. It was glorious to spin on, on, between the rows of +sentinel poplars, bound for the horizon, yet never reaching it, and +regarding crowded haunts of men more as interruptions than as +halting places.</p> +<p>Harfleur was a mere mirage to me, a vision of a gently decaying +town left stranded by the stream of civilisation, flowing past to +busy Havre. Some lines from "Henry the Fifth" made elusive music in +my brain, mixed with a discussion of carburetters, explosion +chambers, and sparking-plugs. At Lillebonne, Winston deigned to +break short his string of motor technicalities and point out the +position of the Roman theatre, almost the sole treasure of the sort +possessed by Northern Europe. I stared through my goggles at the +castle where the Conqueror unfolded to the assembled barons his +scheme for invading England; and I begged for a slackening of speed +at ancient Caudebec, which, with its quay and terrace overhanging +the Seine, and its primly pruned elms, had such an air of happy +peace that I wished to stamp it firmly in my memory. Such mental +photographs are convenient when one courts sleep at night, and has +grown weary of counting uncountable sheep jumping over a stile.</p> +<p>Beyond Caudebec we sailed along a road running high on the +shoulder of the hill, with wide views over the serpentine writhings +of the Seine. Here, Jack urged a turning aside for St. Wandeville +or, at least, for the abbey of Jumièges, poetic with +memories of Agnes Sorel, whose heart lies in the keeping of the +monks, though her body sleeps at Loches. But Molly would +countenance no loitering. <i>Her</i> body, she said, should sleep +at Paris that night.</p> +<p>We held straight on, therefore, keeping to a road at the foot of +white cliffs, sometimes near the river, sometimes leaving it. +Quickly enough to please even this unaccountably impatient Molly, +we had measured off the fifty miles separating Havre from Rouen, +and slowed down for the venerable streets of the Norman +capital.</p> +<p>"I suppose even you will want to give half an hour to the +cathedral which I love best in France?" Jack inquired, looking back +at Molly as he turned from the quay up the Rue Grand Port, and +stopped in the mellow shade of an incomparable pile which towered +above us.</p> +<p>Molly's mushroom, however, was agitated in dissent. She has an +American chin, and an American chin spells determination. We could +not see it, but we knew that it meant business. "You and I will +spend hours in the cathedral another time," she said. "But +now—" She did not finish her sentence, nevertheless a look of +comprehension again lighted up Jack's face, which for the moment +was innocent of goggles.</p> +<p>"Molly's so keen on the Maid," said he, "that she can't forgive +Rouen for not really being the scene of the trial and burning. But +never mind, since she wills it, we'll shake the dust off our +Michelins, and when we're outside, you will have got far enough in +your motoring lesson, I think, to try driving."</p> +<p>What the last hour had not taught me (thanks to him) in theory +of coils and accumulators, electromagnets and other things, was +scarcely worth learning. I seemed to have looked through glass +walls into the cylinders, at the fussy little pistons working under +control of the "governor,"—a tyrant, I felt sure. I had +already formed a mature opinion on the question of mechanically +operated inlet valves (which sounded disagreeably surgical), and +was able to judge what their advantage ought to be over those of +the old type worked by the suction of the piston. I could imagine +that more than half the fun of owning a motor car would lie in +understanding the thing inside and out; and I said so.</p> +<p>"It's a little like controlling the elements," Jack answered. +"Think of the difference in this machine, when it's +asleep—cold and quiet, an engine mounted on a frame, a tank +of water, a reservoir of cheap spirit, a pump, a radiator, a +magnet, some geared wheels fitting together, a lever or two. My man +twists a handle. On the instant the machine leaps into frenzied +life. The carburetter sprays its vapour into the explosion chamber, +the magnet flashes its sparks to ignite it, the cooling water +bathes the hot walls of the cylinders—a thing of nerves, and +ganglions, and tireless muscles is panting eagerly at your service. +You move this lever, you press your foot lightly on this pedal; the +engine transfers its power to the wheels; you move. The carriage +with you and your friends is borne at railway speed across +continents. You can hurl yourself at sixty miles an hour along the +great highroads, you can crawl like a worm through the traffic of +cities."</p> +<p>By the time Jack had finished this harangue we had climbed the +hill out of Rouen and were on the fine but <i>accidenté</i> +highroad that leads past Boos and Pont St. Pierre. Soon we would +reach Les Andelys and Château Gaillard. Still Jack was not +quite ready to let me put my newly acquired knowledge into +practice. There was a hill of some consequence before Mantes, which +we had to reach by way of La Roche Guyon and Limay. After that +there would be only what the route book calls "<i>fortes +ondulations</i>"; and under the stronghold of Lion Heart himself +(an appropriate spot, forsooth!), I was to try my hand at +dragon-driving.</p> +<p>Winston brought the car to a standstill at the foot of the +mouldering ruins of Richard's "Saucy Castle," and as we looked up +at the towering battlements, the huge flanking towers, and the +ponderous citadel, the dark mass on its lofty rock set in the sunny +landscape like a bloodstone in a gold ring, seemed to be an epitome +in stone of life in the Middle Ages.</p> +<p>I uttered every idea that came into my mind concerning the ruin, +and squeezed my brain for more, till my head felt like a drained +orange; not that I enjoyed hearing myself talk, or thought that +Jack and Molly would do so, but because they could not well +interrupt the flow of my eloquence to remind me of the reason for +our stop.</p> +<p>At last, however, silence fell upon us. It was a shock to me +when Molly broke it. "Oh, Lord Lane, have you forgotten that this +is where you're to begin driving? The road is nice and broad +here."</p> +<p>I put on a brave air, as does one at the dentist's. "I hope that +you're not afraid I shall run you into a ditch?" I asked, laughing. +"I don't believe, after all, it can be any worse than steering a +toboggan down a good run, or driving a four-in-hand with one's eyes +shut, as I did once for a wager on a road I knew as I knew my own +hat."</p> +<p>"Perhaps it isn't exactly <i>worse</i>," said Molly, +"still—I think you'll find it <i>different</i>."</p> +<p>I did.</p> +<p>Meanwhile, however, Winston was cheering me on. "You'll find +steering the simplest thing in the world, really," he assured me. +"There's no car so sensitive as this. The faster you go, the easier +it is––"</p> +<p>"But, perhaps he'd better not try to prove <i>that</i>, just at +first!" cried Molly, with an affected little gasp.</p> +<p>"No, no; certainly he won't, my child. He won't go beyond a walk +until he's sure of himself and the car. You needn't be frightened. +I know my man, or I shouldn't trust him with you and your +Mercédès. Now, then, Monty, are you ready?"</p> +<p>I had never before sufficiently realised the solemnity of that +word "now." It sounded in my ears like a knell, but I swallowed +hard, and echoed it. To do myself justice, though, I don't think I +was afraid. I was only in a funk that I should do something stupid, +and be disgraced forever in the eyes of Molly Winston. However, I +reflected, it couldn't be so very bad. Molly herself, and even +Jack, had to learn. Winston had explained to me several times the +purpose of all the different levers, and, at least, I shouldn't +touch the brake handle when I wanted to change the speed.</p> +<p>"No need to grip the wheel so tightly," said Jack, and I became +aware that I had been clinging to it as if it were a forlorn hope. +"A light touch is best, you know; it's rather like steering a boat. +A very slight movement does it, and in half an hour it has got to +be automatic. Of course, always start on the lowest, that is, the +first speed, and with the throttle nearly shut."</p> +<p>Mine was in much the same condition, but I managed to mutter +something as I moved the lever, and touched the clutch-pedal with a +caress timid as a falling snowflake. Almost apologetically, I slid +the lever into position, and let in the clutch. Somehow, I had not +expected it to answer so soon; but, as if it disliked being patted +by a stranger, the dragon took the bit between its teeth and +bolted. I hung on and did things more by instinct than by skill, +for the beast was hideously lithe and strong, a thousand times +stronger and wilder than I had dreamed.</p> +<p>Every faculty of body and brain was concentrated on first +keeping the monster out of the ditch on the off side, then the +ditch on the near. My eyes expanded until they must have filled my +goggles. We waltzed, we wavered, we shied, until we outdid the +Seine in the windings of its channel.</p> +<p>I fully expected that Winston would pluck me like a noxious weed +from the driver's seat where I had taken root, and snatch the helm +himself; but strange to relate, I remained unmolested. Jack +confined his interference to an occasional "Whoa," or "Steady, old +boy"; while in the tonneau so profound a silence reigned that, if I +had had time to think of anything, I should have supposed Molly to +be swooning.</p> +<p>"Why don't you curse me, and put me out of my misery?" I gasped, +when I had by a miracle avoided a tree as large as a house, which I +had seen deliberately step out of its proper place to get in my +way.</p> +<p>"'Curse you,' my dear fellow? You're doing splendidly," said +Jack. "You deserve praise, not blows. I did a lot worse when I +began."</p> +<p>Thus encouraged, I gained confidence in myself and the machine. +Almost at once, I was conscious of improvement in mastering the +touch of the wheel. Soon, I was imitating a straight line with fair +success, subject to a few graceful deviations. I realised that, +after all, we were not going very fast, though my sensation at +starting had been that of hanging on to a streak of greased +lightning.</p> +<p>I began to sigh for more worlds to conquer, and when Jack +reminded me that we were on the first speed, I pronounced myself +equal to an experiment with the second. He made me practice taking +one hand from the wheel, looking about me a little, and trying to +keep the car straight by feeling rather than sight. When I had +accomplished these feats, and had not brought the car to grief +(even though we passed several vehicles, and I was drawn by a +demoniac influence to swerve towards each one as if it had been the +loadstone to my magnet, or the candle to my moth), Jack finally +consented to grant my request. He told me clearly what to do, and I +did it, or some inward servant of myself did, whenever the master +was within an ace of losing his head. I pressed down the +clutch-pedal, pulled the lever affectionately towards me, and very +gradually opened the throttle, so as not to startle it. In spite of +my caution, however, I thought for an instant we were really going +to get on the other side of the horizon, which had been avoiding us +for so long. We shot ahead alarmingly, but to my intense relief, as +well as surprise, I found that Jack had not exaggerated. It was +easier to steer on the second speed than on the first. I had merely +to tickle the wheel with my finger, to send us gliding, swanlike, +this way or that. To be sure, I did well-nigh run over a chicken, +but I would be prepared to argue with it till it was black in the +face (or resort to litigation, if necessary) that the proper place +for its blood would be on its own silly head, not mine.</p> +<p>Elated by my triumphs, I scarcely listened further to Jack's +directions; how, if I thought there was danger, all I had to do was +to unclutch, and put on the brake, whereupon the car would stop as +if by magic, as it had for Molly in the Fulham Road; how I must not +forget that the foot brakes had a way of obeying fiercely, and must +not be applied with violence; how I must remember to pull the brake +lever by my hand, towards me if I wanted to stop; how it acted on +expanding rings on the inside faces of drums, which were on the +back wheels (I pitied those poor, concealed faces, for the +description was neuralgic, somehow), and I could lock them at +almost any speed.</p> +<p>"I want to get on the third, and then I'll try the fourth, thank +you," I interpolated impatiently. "More-more! Faster, faster! Whew, +this knocks spots out of the Ice Run!"</p> +<p>"Let him have his way, Jack," cried Molly, speaking for the +first time. "Hurrah, the motor microbe is in his blood, and never, +never will he get it out again."</p> +<p>"Full speed ahead, then!" said Jack.</p> +<p>I took him at his word. I could have shouted for joy. +Mercédès was mine, and I was +Mercédès'.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"><img src= +"images/053.gif" width="300" height="250" alt="illustration" title= +"illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER +IV</p> +<h4>Pots, Kettles, and Other Things</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Seared is, of course, my heart—but +unsubdued<br /></span> <span> Is, and shall be, my appetite +for food."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 16em">—C.S. Calverley.<br /></span></div> +</div> +<hr /> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"></div> +<div class="stanza"><span>"A little buttery, and +therein<br /></span> <span class="i2">A little bin,<br /></span> +<span> Which keeps my little loaf of bread<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Unchipt, unflead;<br /></span> <span> Some +little sticks of thorn or brier<br /></span> <span class="i2">Make +me a fire."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 10em">—Robert Herrick.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>If any man had told me before I started, that in two days I +should find it a genuine sacrifice to stop driving a motor car, I +should have looked upon him as a polite lunatic. It was only +because Jack could drive faster than he dared to let me, and +because I was ashamed to tell Molly that after all I was not in a +desperate hurry to reach Paris or anywhere else, that I finally +tore myself from the driver's seat of the Mercédès. +Afterwards, though I had not reached the stage when confession is +good for the soul, I sat wondering what there was expensive and at +the same time disagreeable which I could give up for the sake of +possessing a motor of my own. In various phases of my mental and +spiritual development, I had framed different conceptions of a +future state beyond this life. Never, even in my earliest years, +had I sincerely wished to be an angel with an undeserved crown +weighing down my forehead, and a harp, which I should be totally +incompetent to play, within my hand; but now it struck me that +there might be a worse sort of Nirvana than driving a 10,000 +horsepower car along a broad, straight road free from dogs, +chickens, or any other animals (except, perhaps, rich, knighted +grocers), and reaching all round Saturn's ring.</p> +<p>Dogs had been the one "little speck in garnered fruit" for me +when driving, for I love dogs and would not willingly injure so +much as the end hair of the most moth-eaten mongrel's tail; +therefore my brain searched a remedy against their onslaught, as I +sat mute, inglorious, in the tonneau, after my late triumphs.</p> +<p>We flashed on, passing the kilometre stones in quick succession. +At pretty little Mantes we crossed the Seine, and presently came +into the France I knew in my old, conventional way; for we passed +St. Germain, and so on to Paris by Le Pecq, Reuil, the long descent +to the Pont de Suresnes (which seemed to hold laughable memories +for Jack and Molly), through the Bois down the Champs +Elysées, and to our hotel in the Place Vendôme, where +Jack announced that we had had a run of 130 miles. Winston and I +flattered ourselves that Paris had few secrets from us (though I +don't doubt that five minutes' wrestling with Baedeker might have +made us feel small), and we had no wish to linger at this season. +But, if we were deaf to the sirens who sing in the Rue de la Paix, +Molly was not. She had discovered that there were some "little +things she wanted, which she really thought she had better buy." I +fancy that the little things were shoes; anyhow, it was to be +Jack's blissful privilege to help her choose them, and he was of +opinion (probably founded on experience) that it would take nearly +all day. I decided to call on a man at the Embassy, ask him out to +lunch, and do him very well. I had not seen him for years, and he +had bored me to extinction the last time we met; but it had come to +my ears that he had been in love with Helen Blantock, and proposed +to her, so I felt that there would be a certain charm in his +society. Later, there was a "little thing" which I, too, wished to +buy (though I did not intend to seek it in the Rue de la Paix), and +then I was to meet Molly and Jack about tea time at our hotel, in +time to arrange for dining out somewhere.</p> +<p>After all, the man was more boring than ever, as he had got +himself engaged to another girl, and insisted upon talking of her, +instead of Helen. My one pleasure in the day, therefore, lay in +purchasing the article of which I had fixed my mind after driving +yesterday. This was a water pistol, warranted to keep dogs at bay, +in motoring. I had some difficulty in obtaining it, and when I did, +it was expensive, but I was rewarded by the thought of the pleasure +my acquisition would afford my friends. The wild dashes of dogs in +front of the wheels gave Molly such frequent starts of anguish, +that I wondered Jack had not thought of this simple preventive, and +I congratulated myself on having remembered an advertisement of the +weapon which I had seen in some magazine. It was, I thought, rather +clever of me to remember, since in those days motors had been no +affair of mine; but then, the illustration had been striking, in +every sense of the word. It had represented a lovely girl, with +hair unbound, saving from destruction the automobile in which she +sat with several companions, by shooting a fierce blast of water +into the face of a huge beast well-nigh as terrible as Cerberus. I +determined to surprise Jack and Molly, when the right time should +come; accordingly, the moment I reached our hotel, I filled the +pistol with water, and placed it, thus loaded, in the pocket of my +motoring coat ready for emergencies. Hardly had I made this +preparation for the future when I discovered on the table a note +addressed to me in Winston's handwriting.</p> +<p>"Dear Monty," I read, "Molly and I have a bet on. She has bet me +a dinner that you will drive her car out to Madrid, and meet us at +half-past seven, so that we can have the dinner by daylight. I have +bet her the same dinner that you won't. Which of us must +pay?—Yours, Jack."</p> +<p>I whistled. What, drive the car through the traffic of Paris? It +must be a joke. Of course it was a joke, but––</p> +<p>When I had dressed for dinner, I strolled over to the garage not +far away where the creature lurked. Anyhow, I would have a look at +her, and see what orders Gotteland had received. Yes, of course it +was a joke. Or else my poor friends had gone mad. Still, there was +a kind of madness with method in it. Diabolical wretches, with +their bets, and their dinners! Did they dream I would try to do it, +and smash the car? "Nothing like driving a motor through traffic, +to give one self-confidence afterwards," Jack had said yesterday, +after praising me for refraining from killing a small boy in a +village street. "Once a man has been thrown on his own resources, +and has got through the ordeal all right, it is as good as a +certificate," he had added.</p> +<p>Gotteland was in the shrine of his goddess, talking to other +cosmopolitan-looking persons in leather. There was a nice smell of +petrol in the place. I snuffed at it as a war-horse scents the +battle, and promptly decided that the joke should become deadly +earnest, no matter what the consequence to the cart the chauffeur, +or myself.</p> +<p>"Everything is ready, my lord," said one of the sacrifices about +to be offered up. He had now discovered that there was a sort of +starting-handle to my name, and seemed as fond of using it as he +was of the equivalent on his beloved motor.</p> +<p>"Did Mr. Winston—er—say anything about my driving?" +I humbly inquired.</p> +<p>"Well, my lord, his orders were that it should be as you +pleased. But perhaps I had better mention that driving is careless +in Paris, with cabs and automobiles all over the road, to say +nothing of the trams; and then there's the keeping to the right +instead of the left. If you should happen to get a little confused, +my lord, not being accustomed to drive in France––"</p> +<p>"I wish I had a <i>mille</i> note for every time I've driven a +four-in-hand through this blessed town," said I. "I'm not afraid if +you're not."</p> +<p>"Oh, my lord, I've been in so many accidents, one or two more +can't matter," he replied, as Hercules might have replied if asked +whether he were equal to a Thirteenth Labour in odd moments. "When +I was jockey in Count Tokai's racing stables, a horse went mad and +kicked me nearly to death. Then I was a racer in old bicycling +days, and had several bad spills. This scar on my face I got in a +smash with one of the first Benz cars made. My master thought it a +fine thing at that time to go ten miles an hour, and before he'd +driven much, my lord, he was determined to take the car through the +streets of Düsseldorf himself. There was a wagon coming one +way––"</p> +<p>"Thank you," I cut in, "I'll bear the rest of that story another +time. I'm not sure it would exhilarate me much at the moment. We'll +be off now, and I'll do my best not to adorn you with a second +scar."</p> +<p>Without another word, Gotteland started the motor. The critical +eyes of the assembled chauffeurs pierced to my marrow, but I +squared my shoulders, prayed my presence of mind to behave itself +and not get stage fright; then—<i>noblesse +oblige!</i>—we swept in a creditable curve to the door of the +garage, and out in fine style. Gotteland also tried to look +unconcerned. I think I must have seen this with my ears, as both +eyes were fully occupied in searching a way through the surging +current of street traffic, but I did see it. I was pleased to find +that I was the better actor of the two, for Gotteland's attitude +revealed a strained alertness. He was like a woman sitting beside a +driver of skittish horses, saying to herself: "No, I <i>won't</i> +scream or seize the reins till I must!"</p> +<p>A sneaking impulse pricked me to take the easiest way, by the +Rue de Rivoli, and across the Place de la Concorde, but I shook +myself free of it, and with high resolve turned the car towards the +Boulevards, determined that, if Molly won her bet, it should be +well won. A sailor steering a quivering smack towards harbour in a +North Sea hurricane; an Indian guiding a bark canoe through the +leaping rapids of a swollen river: to both of these I likened +myself as the dragon threaded in and out among the adverse streams +of traffic. The great crossing by the Opéra was a whirling +maelstrom; a policeman with a white staff, scowled when he should +have pitied; I felt alone in chaos before the creation of the +world. As for Noah and his ark, not an experience could he have had +that I might not have capped it before I reached the Bois.</p> +<p>If I have a guardian spirit, I am sure that to numberless other +good qualities he adds the skill of an accomplished motorist; for +if he did not get the car to Madrid, without a single scratch upon +her brilliant body, I do not know who did. I have no distinct +memories, after the first, yet when we arrived at our destination, +Gotteland generously complimented, and as I did not care to go into +psychological explanations, I accepted his eulogium. It was Jack, +not Molly, who paid for the dinner at Madrid, and it was a good +one.</p> +<p>Next morning early we started on our way again. Jack driving, +and I watching his prowess. I was now as anxious to meet dogs +belligerently inclined towards motors, as I had been to avoid them, +but it was not until we were well past Fontainebleau that the +chance for which I yearned, arrived. Suddenly we came upon a yard +of Dachshund wandering lizard-like across the road, accompanied by +a pert Spitz. The waddler prudently retired, but the Spitz, with +all the disproportionate courage of a knight of old attacking a +fire-breathing dragon, lanced himself in front of the car. After +all, what are dragons but strange, new things which we know nothing +about and therefore detest? This brave little knight detested us, +and with magnificent self-confidence essayed to punish us for +troubling his existence.</p> +<p>My hand flew to my pocket, but paused, even as it grasped the +water pistol. The dog was small, the weapon large. A fierce jet of +water propelled from its muzzle might blow the breath from that +tiny body, which my sole wish was to warn from under the wheels of +Juggernaut. However, he was persistent, and was in real danger, +since to avoid an approaching cart, Jack was forced to steer +perilously near the yapping beast.</p> +<p>I snatched the weapon, pulled the trigger, and—a mild, +mellifluous trickle which would have disgraced a toilet vaporiser +sprayed forth. Jack, Molly, and the peasants in the approaching +cart burst into shouts of laughter. The Spitz, undismayed by the +gentle shower, which had spattered his nose with a drop or two, +leaped at the weapon, and, irritated, I flung it at his head. It +fell innocuously in the road and our last sight of the Spitz was +when, rejoined by his lizard friend, he industriously gnawed at the +pistol, mistaking it for a bone, while the Dachs gratefully lapped +up the water I had provided. My surprise was a popular success, but +not the kind of success which I had planned. Jack said that he +could have "told me so" if I had asked him, and I vowed in future +to let dogs delight to bark and bite without interference from +me.</p> +<p>The one inept remark which Shelley seems ever to have made was +that "there is nothing to see in France." My opinion, as we spun +along the road which would lead us to Lucerne and my waiting mule, +was that there was almost too much to see, too much charm, too much +beauty for the peace of mind of an imaginative traveller; there +were so many valleys which one longed to explore, in which one felt +one could be content without going farther, so many blue glimpses +of mysterious mountains, veiled by the haze of dreamland, that one +suffered a constant succession of acute pangs in thinking that one +would probably never see them again, that one would need at least +nine long lives if one were to spend, say, even a month in each +place.</p> +<p>Molly advised me not to be a spendthrift of my emotions, at this +stage of the journey, lest I should be a worn-out wreck before the +grandest part came, but the idea of husbanding enthusiasm did not +commend itself to me. Why not enjoy this moment, instead of waiting +until the moment after next? It was too much like saving up one's +good clothes for "best," a lower-middle-class habit which I have +detested since the days when I howled for my smartest Lord +Fauntleroy frills in the morning.</p> +<p>There were sweet villages where they made cheese, and where I +could have been happy making it with Helen Blantock; there were +châteaux with turret rooms where my book shelves would have +fitted excellently; but always we fled on, on, until at last, after +two bewildering, cinematographic days, we drove into the streets of +that dignified and delightful city, Bern.</p> +<p>It had not been necessary for us to pass through Bern; it was, +in fact, a few yards more or less out of the most direct path. We +chose this route simply and solely with the view of paying a visit +to the Bears. Molly had never met them; I had neglected them since +childhood; Jack looked forward to the pleasure of introducing them +to his wife.</p> +<p>It was on our way to call upon the Bears, that destiny seduced +me to turn my head at a certain moment, and look into a shop +window. Suddenly the flame of my desire for the walking solo with a +mule accompaniment (somewhat diminished lately, I confess) leaped +up anew. There were things in that window which made a man long to +be a hermit.</p> +<p>"Mrs. Winston." I cried (Molly was driving), "for goodness' sake +stop."</p> +<p>In an instant the car slowed down. "What is the matter?" she +implored. "Are you ill? Have we run over anything?"</p> +<p>"No, but look there," I said eagerly. "What an outfit for a +camping tour! My mouth waters only at sight of it."</p> +<p>"Greedy fellow," commented Jack from the tonneau. "Drive on, +Molly. Get him past the shop. He doesn't really want any of those +things, and wouldn't use them if he had them. The sooner he forgets +the better."</p> +<p>"Never shall I forget that Instantaneous Breakfast for an +Alpiniste," I fiercely protested, "and I will have it at any cost. +I know there's no other shop on the Continent like this, and I +shall buy an outfit for myself and mule, here, if I have to come +back from Lucerne by train for it."</p> +<p>"Hang your mule!" exclaimed Jack. "I was hoping you'd forgotten +all about him by this time, and had made up your mind to go on with +us indefinitely."</p> +<p>I saw reproach blaze through the talc triangle in Molly's +mushroom. (Yet I thought she liked me, and had not, thus far, found +"three a crowd.")</p> +<p>"Lord Lane isn't a <i>chameleon</i>, Jack," said she, "that he +should change his mind every few minutes. <i>Of course</i> he's +going to have his mule trip. And as for this shop, all those dear +little pots and kettles and things in the window are too cute for +words. He <i>shall</i> have them."</p> +<p>Was I to be a bone of contention between husband and wife?</p> +<p>"Please, both of you come in and help me choose," I meekly +pleaded, in haste to restore the peace which I had broken.</p> +<p>We got out, and a small crowd collected round the car, Gotteland +standing by with his chin raised and the exact expression of the +frog footman in "Alice in Wonderland." One would have said that he +saw, afar off, the graves of his ancestors, on the summit of some +lonely mountain.</p> +<p>It was what Molly would have called a "lovely" shop, and it did +business under the strange device: "Magasin Suisse d'Equipment +Sportif." The name alone was worth the money one would spend. +Everything to cover the outer, and nourish the inner sportsman, was +to be had. I felt that I could scarcely be lonely or sad if I +possessed a stock of these friendly articles. Jack's ribald advice +to buy a pelerine, and a green-loden Gemsjäger hat with a +feather, stirred me neither to smiles nor anger, for Molly and I +were already deep in exploration.</p> +<p>The first thing I bought was a mule-pack. Being a merciful man, +I chose one of medium size, for already I could fancy myself +becoming fond of the animal which was to be my companion in many +wild and solitary places, and I did not wish to overburden him. I +then, aided and abetted by Molly, began to choose the pack's +contents.</p> +<p>An "<i>Appareil de cuisson alpin, Idéal</i>" went without +saying, like the air one breathes. It composed itself, according to +the voluble attendant who displayed it, of six parts, each part far +better than the others. There was a <i>gamelle</i>, with a +"<i>crochet pour l'enlever</i>" and a <i>couvercle</i>, which, not +to show itself proud, would lend its services also as an +<i>assiette</i> or a <i>poêle à frire</i>. There was +the burner of alcohol; there was "<i>le couvercle de celui-ci</i>," +which served equally to measure the spirit, and there was a +charming <i>appareil brise vent</i> which had the air of defying +tornadoes. When I had secured this treasure, Molly drew my +attention to a series of aluminium boxes made to fit eggs and +sandwiches. I bought these also, and, pleased with the clean white +metal, invested in plates, goblets, and water bottles of the same. +Next came a <i>couvert pliant</i>, containing knife, fork, and +spoon; and, lest I should be guilty of selfishness, I ordered a +duplicate for the man who would look after the mule. Best of all, +however, were the tinned soups, meats, vegetables, puddings, and +cocoas, which you simply set on the fire in their bright little +cans, and heated till they sent forth a steamy fragrance. Then you +ate or drank them, and were happy as a king.</p> +<p>Molly and I selected a number of these, and completed the list +with a sleeping bag and a <i>tente de touriste</i>, which she +persuaded me would be indispensable when lost in the mountains, as +I was sure to be, often.</p> +<p>When my goods and chattels came to be collected, we were shocked +to find that the mule-pack would not contain them. The question +remained, then, whether I should sacrifice these new possessions, +already dear, or whether I should doom my mule to carry a greater +burden. The attendant intimated that Swiss mules preferred heavy +loads, and had they the vocal gifts of Balaam's ass, would demand +them. Swayed by my desires and his arguments, I changed my pack for +a larger one. After more than an hour in the shop, we tore +ourselves away, leaving word that the things should be sent by post +to Lucerne. We then repaired to the Bear Pit, by way of the Clock, +and having supplied ourselves with plenty of carrots, had no cause +to complain of our reception.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"><img src= +"images/066.gif" width="300" height="367" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER +V</p> +<h4>In Search of a Mule</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Yes, we await it, but it still delays, +and then we suffer."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 21em">—Matthew Arnold.<br /></span></div> +<div class="stanza"><span>"When I arose and saw the dawn, I sighed +for thee ...<br /></span> <span class="i8">Come, +long-sought!"<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 17em">—Percy Bysshe Shelley.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>Jack no longer attempted to dissuade me from my walking tour. +Whether Molly had talked to him, or whether he had, unprompted, +seen the error of his ways, I cannot tell, but the fact remains +that, during the rest of our run to Lucerne, he showed a lively +interest in the forthcoming trip.</p> +<p>"I suppose," said he, when we had caught our first sight of +Pilatus (seen, as one might say, on his back premises), "I suppose +that anywhere in Switzerland, there ought to be no trouble about +finding a good pack-mule. Somehow one thinks of Switzerland and +mules together, just as one does of bacon and eggs, or nuts and +raisins, and yet, I can't recall ever having come across any mules +in Lucerne, can you, Monty?"</p> +<p>"No," I admitted, "but there were probably so many that one +didn't notice them—like flies, you know."</p> +<p>"Of course, the air of Switzerland is dark with mules and +donkeys," said Molly, who always seemed quick to resent any +obstacles thrown between me and my mule. "One sees them in picture +books. All that Lord Lane will have to say is, 'Let there be +mules,' and there will be mules—strings of them. He will only +have to pick and choose. The thing will be to get a good one, and a +nice, handsome, troubadour-sort of man who can cook, and jodel, and +sew, and put up tents, and keep off murderers in mountain passes at +night. It may take a day or two to find exactly what is +wanted."</p> +<p>"The best person in Switzerland to give Monty all the +information he needs," said Jack, evidently not wholly convinced, +"is Herr Widmer, who has an hotel high above Lucerne, on the +Sonnenberg. He has another in Mentone, and I've heard him tell how +he has often come up from the Riviera to Switzerland on horseback. +He would be able to advise Monty exactly how to go."</p> +<p>"Let's stop at his place on the Sonnenberg, then," said Molly, +who never took more than sixty seconds to make the most momentous +decisions, less important ones getting themselves arranged while +slow-minded English people drew breath.</p> +<p>Certainly, as we drove through the streets of Lucerne, we saw +neither mules nor donkeys, but Molly accounted for this by saying +that no doubt they were all at dinner. In any case, with the blue +lake a-glitter with silver sequins dropped from the gowns of those +sparkling White Ladies, the mountains; the shops gay and bright in +the sunshine, on one side the way, shadows lying cool and soft +under the long line of green trees on the other, who could take +thought of absent mules? Let them dine or die; it mattered not. +Lucerne was beautiful, the day divine.</p> +<p>When we were lunching on the balcony of the Winstons' private +sitting-room at the Sonnenberg, with mountains billowing round and +below us, I saw that there was something on Molly's mind for she +was <i>distraite</i>. Suddenly she said, "Before you talk to Herr +Widmer about your mule, don't you think that you had better decide +absolutely upon your route?"</p> +<p>"But, darling," objected Jack, "that is largely what he wants +advice about."</p> +<p>"He can't do better than take mine, then," said Molly. "Lord +Lane, <i>promise</i> me you'll take mine and <i>no</i> one's +else."</p> +<p>"Of course I'll promise," I answered recklessly, for her eyes +were irresistible, and any man would have been enraptured that so +exquisite a creature should interest herself in his fate. "It +doesn't much matter to me where I go, so long as I can moon about +in the mountains, and eventually, before I'm old and grey, bring up +on the Riviera."</p> +<p>"Well, then," said Molly, "since you are so accommodating, I not +only advise but <i>order</i> you to go over the Great St. Bernard +Pass, down to Aosta."</p> +<p>"Might a humble mortal ask, 'Why Aosta?'" I ventured.</p> +<p>"Because it's beautiful, and beneficent, and a great many other +things which begin with B."</p> +<p>"You've never seen it, though," said Jack.</p> +<p>"But I've always wanted to see it, and as you and I have another +programme to carry out at present, it would be nice if Lord Lane +would go, and tell us all about it. He's promised me to keep a sort +of diary, for our benefit later."</p> +<p>"I saw the Duchess of Aosta married at Kingston-on-Thames," I +reflected aloud. "She was a very pretty girl. What am I to do after +I've made my pilgrimage to her country—about which, by the +way, I know practically nothing except that there's a poster in +railway stations which represents it as having bright pink +mountains and a purply-yellow sky?"</p> +<p>"Oh, after Aosta, I've no instructions," replied Molly, as if +she washed her hands of me and of my affairs. "For the rest, let +Fate decide." As she spoke, she looked mystic, sibylline, and I +could almost fancy that before her dreamy eyes arose a vision of my +future as if floating in a magic crystal. For an instant I was +inclined to beg that she would prophesy, but the mood passed. All +that I asked or expected to get from the future was a mule, a man, +some mountains, and forgetfulness.</p> +<p>It was decided, then, that the only questions to be put to Herr +Widmer should concern the mule. I had a vague dream of presently +standing on the balcony, while various muleteers and their +well-groomed animals passed in review under my eyes, but the +landlord's first words struck at my hopes and left them maimed.</p> +<p>"There are no mules to be had in Lucerne," he said.</p> +<p>"In the country near by, then?"</p> +<p>"Nor in the country near by. The nearest place where you could +get one would be in the Valais—best at Brig."</p> +<p>"But I don't want to go to Brig," I said forlornly. "If I went +to Brig, that would mean that I should have to do a lot of walking +afterwards, to reach the parts I wish to reach, through the hot +Rhone Valley, where I should be eaten up by gnats and other +disagreeable wild beasts. I know the Rhone Valley between Brig and +Martigny already, by railway travelling, and that is more than +enough."</p> +<p>"The Rhone Valley is a misunderstood valley. Even between +Martigny and Brig, it is far more beautiful than anyone who has +seen it only from the railway can possibly judge," pleaded Herr +Widmer. "It well repays a riding or walking tour."</p> +<p>But my soul girded against the Rhone Valley, and I would not be +driven into it by persuasion. "I'd rather put up with a donkey to +carry my luggage," said I, with visions of discarding half my +Instantaneous Breakfasts, "than begin my walk in the Rhone Valley. +Surely, Lucerne can be counted on to yield me up at least a +donkey?"</p> +<p>"You must go into Italy to find an <i>âne</i>," replied +the landlord, inexorable as Destiny.</p> +<p>I suddenly understood how a woman feels when she stamps her foot +and bursts into tears. (There are advantages in being a woman.) To +be thwarted for the sake of a mere, wretched animal, which I had +always looked upon with indifference as the least of beasts! It was +too much. My features hardened. Inwardly, I swore a great oath +that, if I went to the world's end to obtain it, I would have a +pack-mule, or, if worse came to worst, a pack-donkey.</p> +<p>At this bitter moment I chanced to meet Molly's eyes and read in +them a sympathy well-nigh extravagant. But I knew why it had been +called out. If there is one thing which causes unbearable anguish +to a true American girl it is to find herself wanting something +"right away" which she cannot have. But luckily for her country's +peace, her lovers' happiness, this occurs seldom.</p> +<p>"What is the nearest place in Italy where Lord Lane could get a +donkey?" she asked.</p> +<p>"It is possible that he might be able to buy or hire one at +Airolo," said our landlord. "At one time they had them there, for +the railway works, and mules also. But now I do +not––"</p> +<p>"We can go there and see," said Molly.</p> +<p>"Airolo's on the other side of the St. Gothard, and automobiles +aren't allowed on the Swiss passes," remarked Jack.</p> +<p>This, to me, sounded final, so far as Airolo was concerned, but +not so with the Honourable Mrs. Winston!</p> +<p>"What do they do to you if you <i>do</i> go?" she asked, turning +slightly pale.</p> +<p>"They fined an American gentleman who crossed the Simplon in his +automobile last year, five thousand francs," answered Herr +Widmer.</p> +<p>"Oh!" said she. "So an American did go over one of the passes? +Well, thank you <i>so</i> much; we must decide what to do, and talk +it over with you again later. Meanwhile, we're very happy, for it's +lovely here."</p> +<p>Hardly had the door of the sitting-room closed on our host, when +Molly, with the air of having a gun-powder plot to unfold, beckoned +us both to come near. "I'll tell you what we'll do," said she, in a +half-whisper, when surrounded by her body-guard of two. "First, +we'll ask <i>everybody</i> in Lucerne whether there are any mules +or donkeys on the spot, just in case Herr Widmer might be mistaken; +if there aren't any, let's go over the St. Gothard <i>in the middle +of the night</i>."</p> +<p>"Good heavens, what a desperate character I've married!" +exclaimed Jack.</p> +<p>"Not at all. Don't you see, at night there would be nobody on +their silly old Pass that they make such a fuss about. Even in +daylight diligences don't go over the St. Gothard in our times, and +at night there'd be <i>nothing</i>, so we couldn't expose man or +beast to danger. We'd rush the <i>douanes</i>, or whatever they +call them on passes, and if we <i>were</i> caught, what are five +thousand francs?"</p> +<p>"I wouldn't dream of letting you do such a thing for me," I +broke in hurriedly. "If Airolo or the neighbourhood turns out to be +the happy hunting ground of the sedate mule or pensive +<i>âne</i>, I will simply take train––"</p> +<p>"You will take the train, if you take it, over Jack's and my +dead bodies," remarked Molly coldly.</p> +<p>"It would be rather sport to rush the Pass at night," said +Jack.</p> +<p>"Oh, you darling!" cried Molly, "I've never loved you so +much."</p> +<p>This naturally settled it.</p> +<p>We walked down to the town by an exquisite path leading through +dark, mysterious pine forests; where the slim, straight trunks of +the tall trees seemed tightly stretched, like the strings of a +great harp, and where melancholy, elusive music was played always +by the wind spirits. In Lucerne we did not, as Molly had suggested, +ask everybody to stand and deliver information, but we compromised +by visiting tourists' bureaux. At these places the verdict was an +echo of our landlord's, and I saw that Molly and Jack were glad. +Having scented powder, they would have been disappointed if the +midnight battle need not be fought.</p> +<p>Molly had never seen Lucerne, which was too beautiful for a +fleeting glance. It was arranged that, after driving me over the +Pass, for weal or woe, they should return. They would leave most of +their luggage at the Sonnenberg, and come back to spend some days, +before continuing their tour as originally mapped out.</p> +<p>We slept that night in peace (it is wonderful how well you do +sleep, even with a "mind diseased," after hours of racing through +pure, fresh air on a motor car); and next day we began stealthy +preparations for our adventure.</p> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER +VI</p> +<h4>The Wings of the Wind</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Oh, still solitude, only matched in the +skies;<br /></span> <span class="i2">Perilous in steep +places,<br /></span> <span class="i2">Soft in the level +races,<br /></span> <span> Where sweeping in phantom silence +the cloudland flies."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 23em">—R. Bridges.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>The wind howled a menace to Mercédès, as she +glided down the winding road towards the comfortable, +domestic-looking suburbs of Lucerne. Banks of cloud raced each +other across the sky, and, crossing the bridge over the Reuss, we +saw that the waters of the Lake, turquoise yesterday, were to-day a +sullen indigo. The big steamers rolled at their moorings; +white-crested waves were leaping against the quays, and thick mists +clung like rolls of wool to the lower slopes of Pilatus.</p> +<p>Molly's spirits rose as the mercury in the barometer fell. +"Would you care for people if they were always good-tempered, or +weather if it were always fair?" she asked me (we were sitting +together in the tonneau, Jack driving). "I revel in storms, and if +we have one to-night, when we are on the Pass, one of the dearest +wishes of my life will be gratified. 'A storm on the St. Gothard!' +Haven't the words a thunder-roll? Sunlight and mountain passes +don't belong together. I like to think of great Alpine roads as the +fastnesses of giants, who threaten death to puny man when he +ventures into their power."</p> +<p>It had been arranged that we should "potter" (as Winston called +it) round the arms of the star-fish lake, until we reached +Flüelen; that from there we should steal as far as we dared up +the Reussthal while daylight lasted, dine at some village inn, and +then, instead of returning to the lowlands of Lucerne, make a dash +across the mighty barrier that shut us away from Italy. Under a +lowering sky, and buffeted by short, sharp gusts of wind, which +seemed the heralds of fiercer blasts, we swung along the reedy +shores of the narrowing lake, the broken sides of the Rigi standing +finely up on our right hand. Winston was satirical about the poor +Rigi and its railway, calling it the Primrose Hill and the Devil's +Dyke of Switzerland, the paradise of trippers, a mountain whose +sides are hidden under cataracts of beer-bottles; but from our +point of view, the vulgarities of the maligned mountain were +mellowed by distance, and I neither could nor would look upon it as +contemptible.</p> +<p>Leaving the Lake of the Forest Cantons, we spun along the margin +of the tamer sheet of Zug, to pass, beyond Arth, into the great +wilderness caused by the fearful landslide of a century ago, when a +mighty mass of rock and earth split off from the main bulk of the +Rossberg and thundered down into the valley. The slow processes of +nature had done much to cover up decently all traces of the Titan's +rage, but the huge, bare scar on the side of the Rossberg still +told its tale of tragedy. By the peaceful Lowerzer See the road +undulated pleasantly, and at Schwyz (the hub of Swiss history) we +had tea, the torn and imposing pyramids of the two Myten bravely +rearing their heads above the mists that encumbered the +valleys.</p> +<p>There was no need to hurry, for we had the night before us, so +we passed slowly, halting often, along the marvellous Axenstrasse, +while Jack distilled into Molly's willing ears legends from the old +heroic days of Switzerland, before it became the happy haven of +hotel-keepers. From the car we could note the characteristics of +the Cantons which had entered into the famous bond; pastoral and +leafy Unterwalden, with green fields and orchards; Schwyz, also +green and fertile; but Uri (the cold, highland partner in this +great alliance), a country of towering mountains and savage rocks. +Molly wanted to get a boat, and row across to the Rütli to +stand on that spot where, in 1307, Walter Fürst, Arnold of +Melchthal, and Werner Stauffacher took the famous oath, and very +reluctantly she gave up the wish when Jack pointed to the rising +waves, painting in lurid colours the sudden and dangerous storms +that sweep the Lake of Uri. When he went on, however, to insinuate +doubts as to the historic accuracy of these old stories, and to +hint that even William Tell might himself be an incorporeal legend, +Molly clapped a little hand over his mouth, crying out that even if +he had tried to destroy the Maid of Orleans he must spare William +Tell. Further on, she made us confide the car to Gotteland on the +Axenstrasse, while we descended the path to Tell's chapel and did +reverence to the hero's memory. On such a day as this must it have +been that Tell leaped ashore from the boat, leaving Gessler to look +after himself; for the blasts were shrieking down the lake, and the +waves dashed their foam over the ledge where stands the chapel.</p> +<p>Jack stopped several times in the rock galleries of the +Axenstrasse before we reached Flüelen; consequently it was +evening when we slipped into little Altdorf, where Molly insisted +on making a curtsey to the statue of Tell and his agreeable little +boy. Winston predicted that we should probably not be challenged +until we got to Göschenen, as up to that point the road does +not take on a true Alpine character. The storm (which seemed rising +to a point of fury) was in our favour, too, for no one would choose +to be out on such a night, save mad English automobilists and +wilful American girls.</p> +<p>Dusk was beginning to shadow the Reussthal, as we ran past the +railway station at Erstfeld, and began at length the ascent of the +St. Gothard Road. The great railway (of which we had caught +glimpses as we came along the lake) was now our companion, while on +the other hand roared the tumbling Reuss. So hoarse and insistent +was the voice of the stream that Molly suggested it should be "had +up for brawling." It did us the service, however, of drowning the +noise of our motor, at all times a discreetly silent machine; and +as Jack had given orders that the big Bleriots should not be +lighted (two good oil lamps showing us the way), we had high hopes +that we might fly by unnoticed, on the wings of the storm. In +Amsteg no one seemed to look upon us with surprise, and here the +road turned, to worm itself into the heart of the mountains, while +the railway, often disappearing into tunnels, ran far above our +heads.</p> +<p>By the time we had reached Gurtnellen night had fallen black and +close, and Molly issued an edict that we should dine in the open +air, instead of seeking the doubtful comforts of a village inn, +where, too, we might suffer from the solicitude of some officious +policeman. The car accordingly was run under the lee of a great +rock, the ever-inspired Gotteland extemporised a shelter with the +waterproof rugs, and the blue flame of the chafing-dish presently +cheered us with its glow. The wind bellowed along the precipices, +the Reuss shouted in its rocky bed, and once an express from Italy +to the north passed high above us, streaming its lights through the +darkness like sparks from a boy's squib. Yet those plutocratic +travellers up in the <i>wagons lits</i> were not having anything +like the "good time" we enjoyed, warm in our motor coats, sitting +snug behind our rock, a lamp from the car illuminating our little +party and shining on Molly's piquant profile as she brewed savoury +messes in her magic cauldron. This was testing thoroughly the +resources of the automobile, which was playing the part of +travelling kitchen and larder as well as travelling chariot, and +could no doubt be made, with a little ingenuity, to play the parts +also of travelling bed and tent. Yet, as I said all this aloud to +Jack, my mind leaped forward to other nights which I should soon be +spending alone tinder the stars, and I thought tenderly of my +aluminium stove and tent, my sleeping-sack, and the other camping +tools I had bought in Bern.</p> +<p>From where we lay hid behind our rock to Airolo was only some +thirty-two miles, and the car ate up distance with so voracious an +appetite, that it was clear we should arrive in the little Italian +town in the dead waste and middle of the night. To travel a +forbidden road on an automobile, and then to knock up a snoring +innkeeper at one in the morning, to ask him where we could find a +donkey, seemed to be straining unduly the sense of humour; so after +consultation we decided that we should leave Airolo to its slumbers +and speed down the Pass into Italy until we ran to earth the object +of our quest.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a name="i80" id= +"i80"><img src="images/080.gif" width="700" height="590" alt= +""THE BLUE FLAME OF THE CHAFING-DISH"." title= +""THE BLUE FLAME OF THE CHAFING-DISH"." /></a></div> +<p>Molly had produced excellent coffee; the smoke of our cigarettes +mingled its perfume with the night air. Our position had in it +something unique, for while we were "in the heart of one of +nature's most savage retreats" (as said a guide-book of my +boyhood), we were at the same time enjoying the refinements of +civilisation, and I suggested to Winston that our bivouac would +form a fit subject for a picture labelled, in the manner of some +Dutch masters, "Automobilists Reposing."</p> +<p>By the time Gotteland had packed up everything, and we were +seated once more in the car, it was nearly eleven o'clock at night. +Coming out from the shelter of our rock, so fierce a blast of wind +smote us that Molly would, I think, have been carried off her feet +had I not given her a steadying arm. We had to cram our caps on our +heads, or the wind would have torn them from us, and the voice of +the motor was swallowed up in the shrieking of the tempest. Molly +was evidently destined to have her wish.</p> +<p>The car ran swiftly up the road to Wasen, and some twinkling +lights and a huge crimson eye at the entrance to the great tunnel +told us that we had done the ten miles to Göschenen. No one +stirred in the streets of the village, and, gliding cat-like past +the station, Jack put the car at the beginning of the real ascent +of the famous St. Gothard Road. The higher we went, the more wildly +roared the storm. There was something appalling in the fierce +volleyings of the wind along the stark and broken faces of the +precipice: it was like the rattle of thunder. In the sombre defile +of the Schöllenen the air rushed as through a funnel. We could +see nothing save the thread-like road illuminated by our steadfast +lanterns—the sole beacon of safety in this welter. We had a +ghostly impression of winding through a narrow gorge, the river +roaring in its depths; then, dashing through an avalanche gallery +(where the lights played strange tricks with the vaulted roof), we +came out upon the Devil's Bridge. The spray from the Reuss, which +here drops a full hundred feet into the abyss, lashed our faces as +with whips; the storm leaped at us out of the blackness like a +wolf; the car quivered, and for an instant it seemed that we should +be hurled against the parapet of the bridge. But we passed +unharmed, and a quarter of a mile further on Winston stopped in the +welcome shelter of the Urner Loch, a tunnelled passage in the +rock.</p> +<p>We gasped out broken expressions of a fearful joy; then, seeing +that Molly was well, and that the wind-wolf's teeth had torn +nothing from the car, Jack went full speed ahead again, steering +along the open Urseren Valley, where we had fleeting glimpses of +green fields instead of granite rocks. Thus we came to Andermatt, +where not the eye of a mouse seemed open to mark our quick and +stealthy passage. We were now on that great mountain highroad that +slants in a straight line across almost all Switzerland from Coire +to Martigny; but we kept on it only for a little while, to steal +through Hospenthal—as dead asleep as the other villages (for +Labour had not yet begun to waken in its hard bed), and take the +southern road that leads to Italy.</p> +<p>Thus far, audacity had been laurelled by success. It was near +one in the morning, and we were spinning fast up a valley which +showed bleakly in the flying lights of our car. Soon Jack called to +us that we had crossed the border line of the Canton Ticino, and +presently through the blackness twinkled the little lakes which +mark the summit of the Pass. We were nearly seven thousand feet +above the sea, and suddenly, as we crossed the ridge and began to +sail down the dismal Val Tremolo towards Airolo, the great wind +that had made majestic music all day and night ceased to blow. We +ran into a zone of motionless, ice-cold air, and what seemed an +unnatural silence, only the hum of the motor breaking the frozen +stillness of these high Alpine solitudes.</p> +<p>The road plunged to lower levels in interminable windings, the +car swooping in a series of bird-like flights, exhilarating to the +nerves, thrilling to the imagination; for in the blackness that +held us we could but guess at abysses which dropped away almost +from under the tyres of our wheels. Sometimes we dashed over +foaming rivers, and soon we sped through Airolo, where yet no one +moved. Now the loud-voiced Ticino was our companion, and we swept +down through an open valley to Faido, where we met the first human +being we had seen since we left Gurtnellen. It was a very old man, +with a red cap, like a stocking, pulled close upon his head. He had +a rake on his shoulder, and we were close on him before he knew; +for the car was coasting, and ran with hardly any noise save the +whir of the chains. For a flashing instant that old face shone out +of the circle of our lights, concave with astonishment; then we +lost it forever.</p> +<p>"No fear that <i>he</i> will telephone to have us stopped lower +down," said Molly. "He thinks we are supernatural, and will go home +and tell his grandchildren that he has seen witches tearing home +after a revel up among the glaciers."</p> +<p>Faster still the car flew down the road. The air that streamed +past us held the faint, elusive perfume of Italy, which softly +hints the presence of the walnut, the chestnut, and the grape. +Through village after village we swept at speed, our lamps shining +now on mulberry and fig trees, and on vines trained over trellises +held up by splintered granite slabs. Next we came suddenly upon an +Italian-looking town with bad <i>pavé</i> and dimly lighted +streets, where three or four workmen, early astir, stared at us in +bewilderment. It was Bellinzona; but passing through, we came out +presently on the margin of an immense sheet of water, and it was +only in Locarno on the edge of Lago Maggiore, when dawn was paling +the eastern sky, that Jack at last drew rein.</p> +<p>No one was tired; no one wanted to rest. On the contrary, our +rapid flight over the Alps had intoxicated us with the sense of +speed; and we were all excitedly for going on until we should reach +the frontier. As pink dawn blossomed in the sky, like a heavenly +orchard, and the mountain tops were beaten into copper, we glided +along the edge of the lake, past picturesque villages and +<i>campanili</i>, and cypress trees. At the Italian frontier there +were the usual tedious formalities of payment and sealing the car +with a leaden seal; but when all this was done by sleepy officials, +surly at our early passage, though little recking of our crimes, we +sailed on again, Molly driving now, through a landscape magically +clear in the young morning light.</p> +<p>Suddenly we all started in joyous astonishment, and Molly +brought the car to a stop. Each had seen the same thing, each had +been struck with the same thought. Here, at last, we had found what +we had come so far to seek; what Switzerland denied us, Italy +offered. Standing alone in a field by the roadside was a small, +dark grey donkey, tethered to a stone; and no other living being +was in sight. The creature was not eating; it was only thinking; +and it looked at us with an eye that seemed to speak of loneliness +and the desire for human fellowship. "The very thing for you!" +cried Molly; and the long-sought-for treasure, finding itself +observed, flicked one of its heavy ears.</p> +<p>Gotteland and I dismounted and went nearer. As we approached, +the donkey nickered; and as its family is famed for reticence, such +proof of friendliness made me yearn to possess the deserted little +beast. But its legs were very thin, its hoofs exceedingly small, +and the thought of loading so frail a structure with the great +packs that held my camping kit seemed a barbarity. Meanwhile +Gotteland, who knows something of everything, had carefully +examined the tiny animal, and just as I was growing sentimental +over its perfections, he broke the charm by pronouncing it to be +incredibly old, and unfit for work. He also drew my attention to a +disagreeable sore upon its shoulder. It was sad; but indisputably +the man was right; in any case there was no one with whom a bargain +could have been arranged, and with poignant regret I was forced to +leave my treasure-trove to its solitary thoughts. After this we did +not stop again until Molly steered the car to the door of a +beautiful hotel in Pallanza, where the shirt-sleeved concierge +hurried into his gold-laced coat, to receive in fitting style the +unusually early guests.</p> +<p>My first care, after coffee and a bath, was to examine the +landlord of the hotel on momentous question of mules and donkeys. +At Lucerne, I told him, they had assured me that the animals +"flourished" in Canton Ticino and the neighbourhood of the Italian +Lakes. But I met with no encouragement. Mules and donkeys were +rarely seen in these parts, the host declared. True, a few peasants +employed them in the fields; but those were poor things, unfit for +an excursion such as Monsieur purposed. At Piedimulera, perhaps, +Monsieur would find what he wanted; yes, at Piedimulera, or if not, +at Domodossola; or—his face brightened—in the Valais, +preferably at Brig. Yes, he was certain that mules and asses in +abundance could be found at Brig in the Rhone Valley. Brig! My +heart sank. It was the old story. Counterfeiting patience, I +explained that I had an antipathy to the Rhone Valley, and had +actually crossed the Alps to find animals in Italy rather than be +driven to seek them in Brig.</p> +<p>Crushed by a hopeless, answering gesture, I made my report to +Molly and Jack. "It will end," I said, "in my traversing the world, +and eventually arriving in Japan, still searching the <i>rara +avis</i>. By that time I shall have become a harmless lunatic, and +people will treat my babblings with indulgent forbearance, when I +go from house to house begging to be supplied with a pack-mule or a +pack-donkey."</p> +<p>At <i>déjeuner</i>, in a garden which was a successful +imitation of Eden, the situation did not, however, look so dark. +The perfume of flowers, distilled by the hot sun, was of Araby the +Blest; the Borromean Islands spread their enchantments before us, +across a glittering blue expanse of lake, and the world was after +all endurable, though empty of mules. Besides, Molly was a sweet +consoler. She dwelt on the hopeful suggestion in the name +Piedimulera. It could not be wholly deceiving, she argued. Why name +a place Foot-of-a-Mule, if there were no mules there?</p> +<p>"If there aren't," I exclaimed, "I swear to you that I will, by +fair means or foul, dispose of at Piedimulera all the things with +which I fondly thought to deck the animal my fancy had painted. +Everything I bought at Bern shall go, if I have to dig a grave by +night in which to bury them. This is a vow, and though my heart be +wrung, I'll keep it."</p> +<p>Molly listened to this outburst as gravely as if I had been +threatening to sacrifice a son, did not some incredible good +fortune supply a ram caught by his horns in the bushes.</p> +<p>For Piedimulera we left in the afternoon, somewhat buoyed up by +the omen of the name. The way led back towards the Alps, up a broad +and beautiful valley strewn with evidences of the works for the +Simplon railway: embankments, bridges, quarries, and occasional +groups of workmen hauling rhythmically on the many ropes of a +pile-driver. Presently we swerved from the main road, and crossed +the valley bed, obedient to the map, which was our only guide to +Piedimulera. We passed one or two romantically placed, ancient +villages, each of which I hoped might be our goal; but, as usual in +life, the town for which we were bound did not appear as alluring +as other towns, where we had no need to stop.</p> +<p>"I feel there will be not so much as the ghost of a +long-perished Roman mule in this hamlet," I said despondently, +hoping that Molly would contradict me. But she, too, looked +anxious, now that the great moment had come, for we were driving +into a town, at the mouth of a deep gorge already dusky with +purpling shadows, and there was no doubt that it was +Piedimulera.</p> +<p>The gloom of the twilight settled upon our spirits, dissimulate +as we might, as the car swept into the cobble-paved courtyard of an +<i>albergo</i>, a venerable grandfather of a hostelry, old, grim, +and forbidding. Out came a large, fair man to welcome us, with +calculation in his cold grey eye. He looked to me like a spider in +his web, greeting some inviting flies. We broke the ice by asking +for coffee, and when we were told that we must have it without +milk, as there were no cows within a radius of many miles, I would +have staked all my possessions (especially those acquired at Bern) +that there would be no such comparatively useless animals as mules +or donkeys.</p> +<p>Instinct is seldom wrong. If ever there was nothing in a name, +there was nothing in that of Piedimulera, which had evidently been +applied in sheer mockery, or because, untold generations ago, the +foot of that rare creature, a mule, had been preserved here in a +museum. When the landlord found that we did not intend to stop +overnight, unless mules were at once forthcoming, he visibly lost +interest in us, as inedible insects. He shrugged his shoulders at +the bare idea that Piedimulera might shelter such creatures as we +were mad enough to desire, and assured us that there was not the +least use in trying Domodossola. We had much better spend the night +with him, and to-morrow morning go on as best we might to Brig. No? +Then he washed his hands of us.</p> +<p>I did not give my treasures to this person: rather would I have +burnt all, than picture him battening on my Instantaneous +Breakfasts. Molly would have had me keep them, at least until we +knew what fate awaited us at Domodossola. The moment I had +irrevocably parted with my outfit, bought in happier days, I should +find a mule, and how annoyed would I be, she prophesied. But I was +adamant. Had I not made a vow? Besides, if I were to find a mule or +donkey the moment I had got rid of his paraphernalia, that alone +was an inducement to throw the cargo overboard.</p> +<p>On our way to Domodossola, I saw a pretty dark-eyed young woman, +with a cherubic baby in her arms, standing in the doorway of a +tumble-down cottage. Evidently she was waiting to greet her husband +when he should come home, weary with his long day's work. Quickly I +made a decision and with the same abruptness I had used in urging +Molly to draw before the too attractive shop in Bern, I begged her +now to stop. My white elephants were stowed away in separate +bundles in the tonneau, where, ever since Lucerne, they had been +the cause of cramps and "pins and needles" to the feet of any +member of the party who sat there. I ruthlessly collected the lot, +and, well-nigh swamped by the load, I carried them to the cottage +door, where I laid all at the feet of the young mother. She +suddenly became an incarnate point of admiration, and could +scarcely believe that I was sane, or that she was not dreaming when +I explained my wish to make her a present. If I had stayed an hour, +I could not have dissipated her bewilderment, so I left the things +to speak for themselves—if she did not take them for infernal +machines and throw them into the river.</p> +<p>It was evening when we arrived at Domodossola, and I felt +nothing save cold resignation when told emphatically by the +concierge of our chosen hotel that my quest was hopeless.</p> +<p>"You will have to go to Brig," he said; and though he was an +intelligent and worthy man, I could have smitten him to earth.</p> +<p>"You must abandon me to my fate," I told Jack and Molly. "<i>Il +est trop fort.</i> If I'm to walk the face of the earth, I want a +pack-mule and a man; and, 'somehow, somewhere, somewhen,' I mean to +have them. But you've more than done your duty by me. You can get +back to Lucerne from here comfortably, without daring any more +mountain passes and fines for law-breaking. Since to Brig I must +go, I'll make a virtue of necessity, and walk over the Simplon, to +see the tunnel and railway works."</p> +<p>"Walk, if you will," said Molly; "but if I know my Lightning +Conductor and myself, we'll see you through to the end, be it +bitter or sweet."</p> +<p>"Echo answers," added Jack. "If you want to see things clearly, +you must have daylight, and if we wish to escape the arm of the +law, we must fly by night, which means that we can't join forces +till the journey's end."</p> +<p>"You needn't think we're sacrificing ourselves, for we should +love it," Molly capped him. "We're having the jam of adventure +spread thick on our bread now."</p> +<p>"Well, then, everything's settled," said Jack, "except the +start."</p> +<p>Molly thought a day in Domodossola too much. It was decided, +therefore, that they should rest till eleven, and that the motor +should be ready at midnight. They could reach Brig between two and +three, and being a posting town, the hotel people were sure to be +up. I was to start early in the morning, and meet my friends at +Brig, after walking over the Pass.</p> +<p>I saw them off, and then plunged fathoms deep into sleep, +dreaming of a land flowing with mules and donkeys. At five, I was +up, and was surprised to find that the despised Domodossola was a +beautiful and interesting old town, with curiously Spanish effects +in its shadowy streets, lined with ancient, arcaded houses. I +thought to save time and fatigue by taking a carriage to the +frontier village of Iselle at the foot of the Pass, and was glad I +had done so, for the road was rough and covered inches deep with a +deposit of peculiar, grey dust. But things mended when we climbed a +hill, turned out of the main valley, and followed the course of the +river Diveria into a lateral gorge of the mountains, the real +porchway or entrance of the Simplon Pass.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 257px;"><img src= +"images/092.gif" width="257" height="300" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id= +"CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</p> +<h4>At Last!</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"A Jack-o'-lantern, a fairy +fire,<br /></span> <span> A dare, a bliss, and a +desire."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 8em">—Bliss Carman.<br /></span></div> +</div> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Here a great personal deed has +room."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 12em">—Walt Whitman.<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>The further I penetrated into the mountains, the more like a +vast engineering workshop did the long Alpine valley become. Yet, +curiously enough, instead of destroying romance, this gave a +certain majestic romance of its own; the romance of man's struggle +to conquer the stupendous forces of Nature with his science. It was +as if Vulcan's stithy had been dropped down into a profound ravine +of the Alps, and the drone of machinery mingled with the music of +the fleeting river—a strange diapason.</p> +<p>On the right of the highroad, the flat mountain face opened a +black, egg-shaped mouth at me. I got out of the carriage to +approach it, and while I stood peering down the dark throat, as if +I were a Lilliputian doctor examining the tongue of Giant Gulliver, +I was suddenly clapped upon the shoulder. It flashed into my mind +that perhaps it was forbidden to stare at the tunnel-in-making; and +turning to defend myself from a lash of red tape, with the adage +that "a cat may look at a king," I saw a man I had known years ago +smiling at me.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 538px;"><a name="i94" id= +"i94"><img src="images/094.gif" width="538" height="650" alt= +""I WAS SUDDENLY CLAPPED UPON THE SHOULDER"." title= +""I WAS SUDDENLY CLAPPED UPON THE SHOULDER"." /></a></div> +<p>I have a worldly-minded cousin who says that she is always nice +to girls, because "you never know whom they may marry." It might be +equally diplomatic to be nice to foreigners who are at Oxford with +you, because you don't know that they may not become famous +engineers, able to show you interesting things when you visit their +country. Giovanni Bolzano had been at Balliol with me, studying +English, and now it turned out that he was second engineer to the +works for the new tunnel. I recalled with poignant regret that Jack +Winston and I had once made hay of his room; but evidently he bore +no malice, for after saying that he was not surprised to see me, as +everybody came this way sooner or later, he offered to show me his +tunnel, of which this was the Italian mouth. It had another at +Brig, twelve miles away, and boasted the longest throat in the +world, but as it was marvellously ventilated, it would never choke +in its own smoke, and Bolzano was very proud of the engineering +achievement. Having discharged my carriage, I went with him into a +workshop, heard the humming of dynamos, and the buzzing of +tremendous turbines, actuated by the fall of the river Diveria, and +gazed with the fascination of a mouse for a cat at a huge and +diabolical fan, driving air into the tunnel. This fearful beast had +a house to itself, with a passage down which you could venture like +Theseus entering the labyrinth of the Minotaur; but such was the +volume of breath which it drew into its mighty lungs that you must +use all your strength not to be sucked in and hurled against the +shafting; all your self-control not to be confused by its loud, +unceasing roar.</p> +<p>Hardly had we come out from this weird place, which would have +given Edgar Allan Poe an inspiration for a creepy tale, when +Bolzano showed me a relief gang of men getting ready to enter the +tunnel, in a train consisting of wooden boxes drawn by a miniature +locomotive. This was my chance. I was hurried off to his quarters, +helped into rough, miner's clothing, with great boots up to my +knees, and given a miner's lamp. Then, joining the eight hundred +Italians,—a battalion of the soldiers of Labour,—we got +into a box, and set off to relieve eight hundred other such +soldiers who for eight hours had toiled in the schisty heart of the +mountain.</p> +<p>I felt as if suddenly, between sleeping and waking, I had +plunged deep into the dusk of dreamland. We rumbled through a lofty +egg-shaped vault, lined with masonry, lighted waveringly, with +strange play of shadow, by our many lamps. This phase of the dream +seemed to last a long time; and then the train of boxes slowed +down, for we had reached the danger-point, a part of the tunnel +where the hidden Genii of the Mountain had planned a trap to upset +all geological expectations. Having allowed the engineers to +penetrate thus far, they had suddenly flooded the tunnel with +cataracts of water from fissures in the rock, and had laughed wild, +echoing laughter because they had contrived to delay the work for a +year, and cause the spending of much extra money.</p> +<p>The dream showed me now a long iron cage, shoring up the +crumbling walls of the excavation; and through this cage we crept +like a procession of wary mice, suddenly putting on speed at the +end, till we reached the tunnel-head, and found another train +preparing to go out.</p> +<p>Here the dream flung me into a teeming Inferno of darkness and +lost spirits who (spent with eight hours' monotonous toil in this +Circle) had dropped asleep, sitting half-naked in the line of boxes +which would bear them away to a spell of rest. They had fallen into +pathetic attitudes of collapse, some lying back with their mouths +open, some resting their heads on folded arms, some drooping on +comrades' shoulders.</p> +<p>As our train-load of Activity came to a stand, this other +train-load of Exhaustion rumbled slowly away, the smoky lamps +glinting on polished, olive-coloured flesh, on hairy arms, and +swarthy faces shut to consciousness.</p> +<p>Close to the tunnel-head we alighted, and went on into the dream +on foot, the gallery contracting to a few feet in height, where a +group of black figures bent over rock-drills which creaked and +groaned. I saw the drill-holes filled with dynamite, and retired +with the others while the fuse was lighted. I heard from afar off +the thunderous detonations as the rock-face was shattered. I saw +the débris being cleared away, before the drills should +begin to grind again; and the remembrance that, in another rathole +on the Swiss side, another party of workers was patiently advancing +towards us, in precisely the same way, sent a mysterious thrill +through my blood.</p> +<p>"Suppose the two galleries don't meet end to end?" I spoke out +my thought.</p> +<p>"But they will," said Bolzano. "Our calculations are precise, +and we have allowed for an error of two inches: I do not think +there will be more. There is a great system of triangulation across +the mountains, and every few months our reckonings are verified. +By-and-bye, we shall hear the sound of each other's drills; then, +down will come the last dividing wall of rock, and Swiss and +Italians will be shaking hands."</p> +<p>I think, in coming out of the dark tunnels and windy galleries, +I felt somewhat as Jonah must have felt after he had been discarded +in distaste by the whale. The light dazzled my eyes. I could have +shouted aloud with joy at sight of the sun. I made Bolzano +breakfast with me in the little inn at Iselle, and got upon my way +again, at something past noon. The vast turmoil of the growing +railway was left behind. It was like putting down a volume of Walt +Whitman, and taking up Tennyson.</p> +<p>The Pass had the extraordinary individuality of one face as +compared with another. It had not even a family resemblance to the +St. Gothard. The air was sweet with the good smell of newly cut +wood and resinous pines. There were sudden glimpses of icy peaks, +cut diamonds in the sun, seen for a moment, then swallowed up by +stealthily creeping white clouds, or caressed by them with a +benediction in passing. Thin streaks of cascades on precipitous +rocks made silver veinings in ebony. Side valleys opened +unexpectedly, and one knew from hearsay that gold mines were hidden +there. Treading the road built by Napoleon, I was enveloped in the +gloom of the wondrous Gondo Schlucht, to come out into a broad +valley,—a green amphitheatre, above which a company of white, +mountain gods sat grouped to watch a cloud-fight.</p> +<p>If I had not been heart-broken by the cruelty of Helen Blantock, +I should have been almost minded to thank her for sending me here. +But then,—I reminded myself hastily when this thought winked +at me over my shoulder,—I was stunned still, by my heavy +disappointment. I was not conscious to the full of my suffering +now, but I should wake up to it by-and-bye, and then it would be +awful—as awful as the desolation left by a recent great +avalanche whose appalling traces I had just seen.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a name="i100" id= +"i100"><img src="images/100.jpg" width="700" height="479" alt= +""TREADING THE ROAD BUILT BY NAPOLÉON"." title= +""TREADING THE ROAD BUILT BY NAPOLÉON"." /></a></div> +<p>I refused to be interested in the old Hospice of St. Bernard, or +the newer Hospice, built by order of Napoleon, because neither +seemed to me the real thing. If I could not see the Hospice of St. +Bernard on the Pass of Great St. Bernard, I would not see any other +hospices called by his name. If possible, I would have gone by them +with my eyes shut; but at the new Hospice the yapping of a dozen +adorable puppies in a kennel opposite lured me, and I paused to +talk to them. They did not understand my language, and this was +disappointing; but if I had not stopped I should have missed a +short cut which I half saw, half suspected, dimly zigzagging down +the mountain into an extraordinarily deep valley, and tending in +the direction of Brig. It would have been a pity to pass it by, for +though I often thought myself lost, I eventually caught sight of a +town, lying far below, which could be no other than the one for +which I was bound. After three hours of fast walking down from the +Hospice, I plunged through an old archway into the main street of +Brig.</p> +<p>Coming into it, I stopped to gaze up in astonishment at an +enormous house which looked to me as big as Windsor Castle. Indeed, +to call it a house does not express its personality at all; yet it +was hardly magnificent enough for a castle. At each corner was an +immense tower, ornamented with a big bulb of copper, like a +gigantic and glorified Spanish onion. A beautiful Renaissance +gallery, flung across from one tall building to another, lent grace +to the otherwise too solid pile, and I guessed that I must have +come upon the ancient stronghold and mansion of the famous +Stockalper family, still existing and still one of the most +important in Switzerland. In the Pass I had seen the towers built +by the first Stockalper—that Gaspar who in mediæval +days was called "King of the Simplon"; who protected travellers and +controlled the caravan traffic between Italy and Switzerland; now, +to see the house which he had founded still occupied by his +descendants, fixed more pictorially in my mind the stirring legends +connected with the man.</p> +<p>The little town of Brig seemed noisy and gay after the great +silence of the Pass. Church bells were ringing, whips were +cracking; in the central place there were crowding shops, bright +with colour, and lights were beginning to shine out from the +windows of the hotels.</p> +<p>I was to meet the Winstons at the Hôtel Couronne; and as I +ventured to show my travel-stained person in the hall, I was +greeted by a vision: Molly in white muslin, dressed for dinner.</p> +<p>"What, you already!" she exclaimed. "You must have come over the +Pass by steam or electricity. We didn't expect you for an hour. +We've lots to tell you, and oh, I've bought you a sweet revolver, +which you are always to have about you, on your walking trip, +though Jack laughed at me for doing it. But now, for your +adventures."</p> +<p>In a few words I sketched them, and learned that the motor had +again pulled wool over the eyes of the law; then Molly must have +seen in mine that there was a question which I wished, but +hesitated, to ask. If a man may have a beam in his eye, why not a +mule?</p> +<p>"We've been interviewing animals of various sorts for you all +day," she said. "I've had a kind of employment agency for mules, +and have taken their characters and capacities. +But––"</p> +<p>"There's a 'but,' is there?" I cut into her ominous pause.</p> +<p>"Well, the nicest beasts are all engaged for days ahead, or else +their owners can't spare them for a long trip; or else they're too +young; or else they're too old; or else they're <i>hideous</i>. At +least, there's one who's hideous, and I'm sorry to say he's the +only one you can have."</p> +<p>"'Twas ever thus, from childhood's hour.'"</p> +<p>"But the landlord says there are dozens of mules at +Martigny."</p> +<p>"A mere mirage."</p> +<p>"No, he has telephoned. But you'll look at the one here, I +suppose, if only as a matter of form? I think he's outside +now."</p> +<p>"Let him be brought before me," I said, with the air of a tyrant +in a melodrama; and, by the way, I have always thought it would be +very pleasant being a tyrant by profession, like Him of Syracuse, +for instance. You could do all the things you wanted to do, without +consulting the convenience of anybody else, or having it on your +conscience that you hadn't.</p> +<p>At this moment Jack appeared. It seemed that he had been putting +the mule (the one available mule) through his paces, and the +wretched fellow was laughing. "It's not funny, at all," said I, +thinking it was the situation which amused him. But Jack explained +that it wasn't that. "It's the brute's tail," said he. "When you +see it, you'll know what I mean."</p> +<p>I did know, at sight. The organ—if a mule's tail can be +called an organ—had mean proportions and a hideous activity +which expressed to my mind a base and depraved nature. Had there +been no other of his kind on earth, I would still have refused to +take this beast as my companion; and after a few moments' feverish +discussion, it was arranged that after all we must go through the +Rhone Valley to-morrow to Martigny.</p> +<p>But the Rhone Valley, radiant in morning light, heaped coals of +fire upon my head. I had maligned perfection. There was all the +difference between the country between Brig and Martigny seen from +a railway-carriage window, and seen from a motor car, that there is +between the back of a woman's head when she is giving you the cut +direct, and her face when she is smiling on you.</p> +<p>The Rhone Valley tame! The Rhone Valley monotonous! It was +poetry ready for the pen of Shelley, and a scene for the brush of +Turner. The little towns sleeping on the shoulders of the +mountains, or rising turreted from hardy rocks bathed by the golden +river; the peeps up cool lateral valleys to blue glaciers; the near +green slopes and distant, waving seas of snowy splendour left a +series of pictures in the mind; and best of all was Martigny's +tower pointing a slender finger skyward from its high hill.</p> +<p>Late in the afternoon, as the car whirled us into the garden of +the Hôtel Mont Blanc, we came face to face with two mules. +They had brought back a man and a girl from some excursion. The +landlord was at the door to receive his guests. Jack, Molly, and I +flung the same question at his head, at the same moment. Was the +situation as it had been when he telephoned? Could I hire a mule +and a man, not for a day or two, but for a long journey—a +journey half across the world if I liked?</p> +<p>The answer was that I might have five mules and five men for a +journey all across the world if it were my pleasure.</p> +<p>It sounded like a problem in mental arithmetic, but I thanked my +stars that there seemed no further need for me to struggle over its +solution.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"><img src= +"images/106.gif" width="300" height="267" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id= +"CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</p> +<h4>The Making of a Mystery</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"There was the secret ...<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hid in ... grey, young eyes."<br /></span> +<span class="smcap" style="margin-left: 9em">—Alice +Meynell.<br /></span></div> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone +no more."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 19em">—Walt Whitman.<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>In my opinion it is a sign of strength rather than of weakness, +to change one's mind with a good grace. For my part, I find +pleasure in the experience, feeling refreshed by it, as if I had +had a bath, and got into clean linen after a hot walk. Changing the +mind gives also somewhat the same sensation as waking in the +morning with the consciousness that no one on earth has ever seen +this day before; or the satisfaction one has on breaking an egg, +the inside of which no human eye has beheld until that moment. A +change of mind bestows on one for the time being a new Ego; +therefore I did not grudge myself my delight in the once despised +Rhone Valley. Nevertheless, I was glad that the Mule of Brig had +been one with which I could conscientiously decline to associate. +My resolve not to take a pack-mule there had become so fixed, that +to have uprooted it would have seemed a confession of failure. +Besides, the need to go on to Martigny had given an excuse for +another day with Jack, Molly, and Mercédès.</p> +<p>I had been as happy as a man whose duty it is to be +broken-hearted, may dare to be. But the next morning came at +Martigny, and with my bath the news that the five promised men with +their five mules awaited my choice.</p> +<p>I had secretly hoped that the day might be mule-less till +evening, for in that case Jack and Molly would probably stay on, +and I should not be left alone in the world until to-morrow.</p> +<p>However, it was not to be. I gave myself the satisfaction of +keeping the mules waiting, on the principle of always doing unto +others what they have done unto you; and after a leisurely toilet, +I went down to hold the review.</p> +<p>Four men, with four mules, started forward eagerly, jostling +each other, at sight of me accompanied by the landlord. But one +held back a little, with a modest dignity, as if he were too proud +to push himself into notice, or too generous to exalt himself at +the expense of others. He was a slim, dark man of middle height, +past thirty in age, perhaps, with a look of the soldier in the +bearing of his shoulders and head. He had very short black hair; +high cheekbones, where the rich brown of his skin was touched with +russet; deep-set, thoughtful eyes, and a melancholy droop of the +moustache. His collar was incredibly tall and shiny, with turn-down +points; he wore a red tie; his thick brown clothes might have been +bought ready made in the Edgeware Road; evidently he had honoured +the occasion with his Sunday best. While his comrades jabbered +together, in patois which flung in a French word now and then, like +a sop to Cerberus, he spoke not a word; yet I saw his lips tighten, +as he laid his arm over the neck of a small but well-built mule of +a colour which matched its master's clothing. The animal rubbed a +brown velvet head against the brown waistcoat which, perhaps, +covered a fast-beating heart. From that instant I knew that this +was my man, and this my mule, as certainly as if they had been +tattooed with my family crest and truculent motto: "What I will, I +take."</p> +<p>"You've been a soldier, haven't you?" I asked the muleteer in +French.</p> +<p>He saluted as he replied that he had, and that for several years +he had served a French general, as orderly. His name was Joseph +Marcoz, and—he added—he was a Protestant.</p> +<p>"And your mule?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Finois, Monsieur."</p> +<p>"Ah, but his persuasion? He is Protestant, too?" If Joseph had +looked puzzled, I should have been disappointed, but a spark of +humour lit the gloom of his sombre eye. "Finois is Pantheist, I +think you call it, Monsieur. I am persuaded that he has a soul, for +which there will be a place in the Beyond; and if he goes there +first, I hope that he will be looking out for me."</p> +<p>It seemed a sudden drop, after this preface, to turn to +bargaining. The landlord made the break for me, however, when he +saw that I had set my mind upon Marcoz and his Finois. It then +appeared that Joseph was not his own master, but worked for the +real owner of Finois and other mules. The price he would have to +ask for such a journey as I proposed was twenty-five francs a day. +This would include the services of man and mule, food for the one, +and fodder for the other. Without any beating down, I accepted the +terms proposed, and the only part of the arrangement left in doubt +was the time of starting. It was not eight o'clock, yet already the +diligences and private carriages going over the Grand St. Bernard +had departed with a jingling of bells and sharp cracking of whips +which had first informed me that it was day. With me, it was +different, however. Speed was no longer my aim. I would not be in a +hurry about arriving anywhere, and when I learned that there were a +couple of small towns on the Pass, at either of which I could lie +for a night, there seemed no fair excuse for keeping Jack and Molly +at Martigny.</p> +<p>As I was wondering when they would wake, that I might consult +them on the details of my journey, I glanced up and saw Molly, as +fresh as if she had been born with the morning, standing on a +balcony just over my head. In her hand was a letter, and as she +waved a greeting, something came fluttering uncertainly down. I +managed to catch this something before it touched earth, and had +inadvertently seen that it was an unmounted photograph, probably +taken by an amateur correspondent, when Molly leaned over the +railing, with an excited cry. "Oh, don't look. Please, +<i>please</i> don't look at that photograph!" she exclaimed.</p> +<p>"Of course I won't," I answered, slightly hurt. "What do you +take me for?"</p> +<p>"I know you wouldn't mean to," she answered. "But you might +glance involuntarily. You <i>didn't</i> see it, did you?"</p> +<p>Suddenly I was tempted to tease her. "Would it be so very +dreadful if I did?"</p> +<p>"Yes, dreadful," she echoed solemnly. "Don't joke. Do please +tell me, one way or the other, if you saw what was in the +picture?"</p> +<p>"You may set your mind at ease. If it were to save my life, I +couldn't tell whether the photograph was of man, woman, boy, girl, +or beast; and now I'm holding it face downward."</p> +<p>Molly broke into a laugh. "Good!" she exclaimed. "I'm coming to +claim my property, and to look at your new acquisitions. I've been +criticising them from the window, and I congratulate you."</p> +<p>A moment later she was beside me, had taken her mysterious +photograph, and hidden it between the pages of a letter, covered +with writing in a pretty and singularly individual hand. She +explained that a whole budget of "mail" had been forwarded to +Martigny, in consequence of a telegram sent to Lucerne, and then, +as if forgetting the episode, she applied herself to winning the +hearts of the man Joseph and the mule Finois.</p> +<p>Presently we were joined by Winston, and I broached the subject +of the start. "The idea is," I said, "to begin as I mean to go on, +with a walk of from twenty to thirty miles a day, according to the +scenery and my inclination. Marcoz thinks that we could pass the +night comfortably enough at a place called Bourg St. Pierre, even +if we didn't get away from here for an hour or so. Then early +to-morrow we would push on for the Hospice, and reach Aosta in the +evening."</p> +<p>"It would be a mistake to leave here in the heat of the day, +don't you think so?" said Jack. "Much better if we all stopped on, +did some sightseeing, and then Molly and I bade you good speed +about half-past seven to-morrow morning."</p> +<p>"But, Lightning Conductor, you forget we can't stay. You +know—<i>the letters</i>," said Molly, with one of those deep, +meaning glances which her lovely eyes had more than once sent Jack, +when there was some question as to our ultimate parting. My heart +invariably responded to this glance with a pang, as a nerve +responds to electricity. She wished to go away with her Lightning +Conductor, and leave me at the mercy of a mule. Well, I would +accept my lonely lot without complaining, but not without silently +reflecting that happy lovers are selfish beings at best.</p> +<p>The forlorn consciousness that I was of superlative importance +to no one was heavy upon me. I wanted somebody to care a great deal +what became of me, and evidently nobody did. I was horribly +homesick at breakfast, and the Winstons' gaiety in the face of our +parting seemed the last straw in my burden. Perhaps Molly saw this +straw in my eyes, for she looked at me half wistfully for a moment, +and then said, "If we weren't sure this walking trip of yours will +do you more good than anything else, we wouldn't let you leave us, +for we have loved having you. We'll write to you at Aosta, where +you will be staying for a couple of days, and give you our +itinerary, with lots of addresses. By that time, you too will have +made up your mind about your route. You will have decided whether +to branch off among the bye-ways, or go straight on south, although +you mustn't go <i>too</i> quickly, and get there too +early––"</p> +<p>"I don't believe I shall have made up my mind to anything in +Aosta," said I gloomily. "I feel that I shall still be unequal to +that, or any other mental effort, and what is to become of me, +Heaven, Joseph, and Finois alone know."</p> +<p>"Now, isn't it funny, I feel exactly the opposite? Something +seems to tell me that at Aosta, if not before, you will, so to +speak, 'read your title clear,'" said Molly, with aggravating +cheerfulness. "As soon as you've settled what way to take, you must +write or wire; and who knows but by-and-bye we shall cross each +other's path again, on the road to the Riviera?"</p> +<p>I revived a little. "I don't think you told me that you were +going to run down there. Jack was talking about keeping mostly to +Switzerland, I thought."</p> +<p>"But Switzerland will turn a cold shoulder upon us, as the +autumn comes to spoil its disposition, and we were saying only this +morning that it would be fine to make a rush to the Riviera, for a +wind up to our trip."</p> +<p>"You see, Molly had a letter––" Jack had begun to +speak with an absent-minded air, but suddenly recovered himself. +"We don't care to get back to England till November," he hastily +went on. "I want Molly to have some hunting and a jolly round of +country houses just to see what we can do to make an English winter +tolerable. We've got four or five ripping invitations, and in +January Mistress Molly herself will have to play hostess to a big +house party, at Brighthelmston Park, which the mater and governor +have lent us till next season."</p> +<p>If he had wanted to take my mind off an inadvertence, he could +scarcely have manœuvred better, but why the inadvertence (if +it had been one) could concern me, it was difficult to imagine.</p> +<p>There was a friendly dispute as to whether Molly and jack should +see me off, or whether I should wish them good-bye before starting +on my journey; but in the end it was settled that I should be the +one to leave first. Perhaps they believed that, if left to myself, +I should never start at all; perhaps they wished to add photographs +of the mule-party to their Kodak collection, already large; or +perhaps they thought only how to make the parting pleasantest for +me, since I had no one, and they had each other.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a name="i114" id= +"i114"><img src="images/114.gif" width="700" height="562" alt= +""THERE WAS A PANG WHEN I TURNED MY BACK"." title= +"quot;THERE WAS A PANG WHEN I TURNED MY BACK"." /></a></div> +<p>In any case, at ten o'clock all that was left of my store was +placed upon the back of Finois, who had the air of ignoring its +existence, and mine as well. Had he been a horse, he would at least +have deigned to exchange glances with me, friendly or otherwise; +but being what he was, he looked everywhere except at me, as if he +had been some haughty aristocrat conscientiously snubbing an +offensive upstart. Joseph appeared to be the one human being of +more importance for Finois than the moving bough of an inedible +tree, bush, or shrub, and even Molly could win him to no change of +facial expression, though he ate her offered sugar.</p> +<p>There was a pang when I turned my back irrevocably upon my +friends, having waved my hand or my panama so often that to do so +again would he ridiculous. We were off, Joseph, Finois, and I; +there was no getting round it; and as we ambled away along the hot +white road, we seemed but small things in the scheme of a busy and +indifferent world—mere cards, shuffled by the hands of an +expert, for a game in which our destination was unknown.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"><img src= +"images/116.gif" width="450" height="188" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER +IX</p> +<h4>The Brat</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span class="i1">"Be kind and courteous to this +gentleman; hop in his walk<br /></span> <span>and gambol in his +eyes."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 20em">—Shakespeare.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>In beginning our tramp, I trudged step for step with Joseph, who +had Finois' bridle over his arm, and answered my questions +regarding the various features of the landscape. Thus I was not +long in discovering that he had a knowledge of the English language +of which he was innocently proud. I made some enquiry concerning a +fern which grew above the roadside, when we had passed through +Martigny Bourg, and Joseph answered that one did not see it often +in this country. "It is a seldom plant," said he. "It live in high +up places, where it was <i>difficile</i> to catch, for one shall +have to walk over rocks, which do not—what you say? They go +down immediately, not by-and-bye."</p> +<p>I liked this description of a precipice, and later, when we had +engaged in a desultory discussion on politics, I was delighted when +Joseph spoke solemnly of the "Great Mights." He had formed opinions +of Lord Beaconsfield and Gladstone, but had not yet had time to do +so of Mr. Chamberlain, for, said he, "these things take a long time +to think about." Fifteen or twenty years from now, he will probably +be ready with an opinion on men and matters of the present. He +asked gravely if there had not been a great difference between the +two long-dead Prime Ministers?</p> +<p>"How do you mean?" I enquired. "A difference in politics or +disposition?"</p> +<p>"They would not like the same things," he explained. "The Lord +Beaconsfield, <i>par exemple</i>, he would not have enjoyed to come +such a tour like this, that will take you high in icy mountains. He +would want the sunshine, and sitting still in a beautiful +<i>chaise</i> with people to listen while he talked, but Monsieur +Gladstone, I think he would love the mountains with the snow, as if +they were his brothers."</p> +<p>"You are right," I said. "They were his brothers. One can fancy +edelweiss growing freely on Mr. Gladstone. His nature was of the +white North. You have hit it, Joseph."</p> +<p>"But I do not see a thing that I have hit," he replied, +bewildered, glancing at the stout staff in his hand, and then at +Finois, who had evidently not been brought up on blows. It was then +my turn to explain; and so we tossed back and forth the +conversational shuttlecock, until I found myself losing straw by +straw my load of homesickness, and becoming more buoyant of spirit +in the muleteer's society.</p> +<p>After the splendours of the Simplon it seemed to rue, as the +windings of the Great St. Bernard Pass shut us farther and farther +away from Martigny, that this was in comparison but a peaceful +valley. It was a cosey cleft among the mountains, with just room +for the river to be frilled with green between its walls. There was +a look of homeliness about the sloping pastures, which slept in the +sunshine, lulled by the song of the swift-flowing Dranse.</p> +<p>The name "Great St. Bernard" had conjured up hopes of rugged +grandeur, which did not seem destined to be fulfilled, and at last +I confided my disappointment to Joseph. "If Monsieur will wait an +all little hour, perhaps he will yet be surprised," he answered, +breaking into French. "We have a long way to go, before we come to +the best."</p> +<p>We walked briskly, lunched at the dull village of +Orsières; and delaying as short a time as possible, pushed +on—indeed, we pushed on much farther than Joseph had +expected, when he suggested our sleeping at Bourg St. Pierre. "We +might go higher," said he, "before dark, but it would be late +before we could reach the Hospice, and there is no place where we +could rest for the night after St. Pierre, unless Monsieur would +care to stop at the Cantine de Proz."</p> +<p>"What is the Cantine de Proz?" I asked, trudging along the stony +road, with my eyes held by a huge snow mountain which had suddenly +loomed above the green shoulders of lesser hills, like a great +white barrier across the world.</p> +<p>"The Cantine de Proz is but a house, nothing more, Monsieur, in +the loneliest and wildest part of the Pass—how lonely, and +how wild, you cannot guess yet by what you have seen. The people +who keep the house are good folk, and they live there all the year +round, even in winter, when the snow is at the second-story +windows, and they must cut narrow paths, with tall white walls, +before they can feed their cattle. These people sell you a cup of +coffee, or a glass of beer, or of liqueur, and they have a spare +room, which is very clean. If any traveller wishes to spend a +night, they will make him as comfortable as they can. One English +gentleman came, and liked the place so well, that he stayed for +months, and wrote a book, I have been told. But it is desolate. +Perhaps Monsieur would think it too <i>triste</i> even for a night. +At St. Pierre there is at least a little life. And the hotel 'Au +Déjeuner de Napoléon,' I think it will amuse +Monsieur."</p> +<p>"That is an odd name for a hotel," said I.</p> +<p>"You see, Monsieur, it was made famous because of the +<i>déjeuner</i> which Napoléon took there on his +march with his army of 30,000 across the Pass in the month of May, +1800, and that is the reason of the name. The madame who has the +house now, is a grand-daughter of the innkeeper of that day; and +she will show you the room where Napoléon breakfasted, with +all the furniture just as it was then, and on the wall the +portraits of her grand-parents, who waited on the great man."</p> +<p>"At all events, we will rest and have something to eat there," I +said. "Then, if it be not too late, we might push on further. I +like the idea of the lonely Cantine de Proz."</p> +<p>My opinion of the Pass was changing for the better, before we +reached the straggling town of stony pavements, which could not +have a more appropriate patron than St. Pierre. True, our road was +always narrow, and poorly kept for a great mountain highway; so +far, none of the magnificent engineering which impressed one on the +Simplon. But here and there dazzling white peaks glistened like +frozen tidal waves against the blue, and the Dranse had a +particular charm of its own. Joseph said little when I patronised +the Pass with a few grudging words of commendation. He had the +secretive smile of a man who hides something up his sleeve.</p> +<p>It was five o'clock when we arrived at Bourg St. Pierre, and +having climbed a dark and hilly street, closely shut in with houses +which age had not made beautiful, Joseph pointed out a neat, white +inn, standing at the left of the road.</p> +<p>"That is the 'Déjeuner de Napoléon,'" said he, +"and near by are some Roman remains which will interest Monsieur +if––"</p> +<p>"By Jove, two donkeys!" I broke in, heedless of antiquities, in +my surprise at seeing two of those animals which experience had +taught me to look upon as more rare than Joseph's "seldom plant." +"Two donkeys in front of the inn. Where on earth can they have +sprung from? I would have given a good deal for that sight a few +days ago, but now"—and I glanced at the dignified +Finois—"I can regard them simply with curiosity."</p> +<p>"I have been over this Pass more than twenty times," said Joseph +(who was a native of Chamounix, I had learned), "yet rarely have I +met with <i>ânes</i>. And see, Monsieur, the woman who is +with them. She is not of the country, nor of that part of Italy +which we enter below the Pass, at Aosta. It is a strange costume. I +do not know from what valley it comes."</p> +<p>"Well," said I, as we drew near to the group in the road outside +the hotel, "if that girl, or at any rate her hat, did not come from +the Riviera somewhere, I will eat my panama."</p> +<p>Involuntarily I hastened my steps, and Joseph politely followed +suit, dragging after him Finois, who seemed to be walking in his +sleep. I felt it almost as a personal injury from the hand of Fate, +that after my unavailing search for donkeys in a land where I had +thought to be forced to beat them off with sticks, I should find +other persons provided with not one but two of the creatures.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 492px;"><a name="i122" id= +"i122"><img src="images/122.gif" width="492" height="720" alt= +""THAT IS THE DÉJEUNER OF NAPOLÉON"." +title=""THAT IS THE DÉJEUNER OF NAPOLÉON"." /> +</a></div> +<p>They were charming little beasts, one mouse-colour, one +dark-brown with large, grey-rimmed spectacles, and both animals +were of the texture of uncut velvet. The former carried an +excellent pack, which put mine to shame; the latter bore a boy's +saddle, and the two were being fed with great bread crusts by a +bewitching young woman of about twenty-six or -eight, wearing one +of the toad-stool hats affected by the donkey-women of Mentone. She +looked up at our approach, and having surveyed the pack and +proportions of Finois with cold scorn, her interest in our +procession incontestably focused upon Joseph. She tossed her head a +little on one side, shot at the muleteer an arrow-gleam, half +defiant, half coquettish, from a pair of big grey eyes fringed +heavily with jet. She moistened full red lips, while a faint colour +lit her cheeks, under the deep stain of tan and a tiger-lily +powdering of freckles. Then, having seen the weary Joseph visibly +rejuvenate in the brief sunshine of her glance, she turned away, +and gave her whole attention to the donkeys.</p> +<p>"Hungry, Joseph?" I asked.</p> +<p>He had to bethink himself before he could answer. Then he +replied that he had food in his pocket, bread and cheese, and that +Finois carried his own dinner. They would be ready to go on, if I +chose, or to remain, if that were my pleasure. "It is too early for +a final stop, at a place where there can no amusement for the +evening," said I. "We had better go on. If you intend to stay +outside with Finois, I'll send you a bottle of beer, and you can, +if you will, drink my health."</p> +<p>With this I went in, feeling sure that the time of my absence +would not pass heavily for Joseph.</p> +<p>This was the hour at which, in England, we would sip a cup of +tea as an excuse for talk with a pretty woman in her drawing-room; +but having tramped steadily for some hours in mountain air, I was +in a mood to understand the tastes of that class who like an egg or +a kipper for "a relish to their tea." I looked for the landlady +with the illustrious ancestors, and could not find her; but voices +on the floor above led me to the stairway. I mounted, passed a +doorway, and found myself in a room which instinct told me had been +the scene of the historic <i>déjeuner</i>.</p> +<p>It was a low-ceilinged room with wainscoted walls, and at first +glance one received an impression of the past. There was a soft +lustre of much-polished mahogany, and a glitter of old silver +candelabra; I thought that I detected a faint fragrance of lavender +lurking in the clean curtains, or perhaps it might have come from +the square of ancient damask covering the table, on which a meal +was spread.</p> +<p>That meal consisted of chicken; a salad of pale green lettuce +and coraline tomatoes; a slim-necked bottle of white wine; a +custard with a foaming crest of beaten egg and sugar; and a dish of +purple figs. Food for the gods, and with only a boy to eat +it—but a remarkable boy. I gazed, and did not know what to +make of him. He also gazed at me, but his look lacked the curiosity +with which I honoured him. It expressed frank and (in the +circumstances) impudent disapproval. Having bestowed it, he +nonchalantly continued his conversation with the plump and capped +landlady, who was evidently enraptured with him, while I was left +to stand unnoticed on the threshold.</p> +<p>Purely from the point of view of the picturesque, there was some +excuse for madame's preoccupation. The boy would have delighted an +artist, no doubt, though our first interchange of glances gave me a +strong desire to smack him.</p> +<p>His panama—a miniature copy of mine—hung over the +back of his old-fashioned chair—the one, no doubt, in which +Napoleon had sat to eat the <i>déjeuner</i>. Soft rings of +dark, chestnut hair, richly bright as Japanese bronze, had been +flattened across his forehead by the now discarded hat. This hair, +worn too long for any self-respecting, twentieth-century boy, +curled round his small head and behind the slim throat, which was +like a stem for the flower of his strange little face. "Strange" +was the first adjective which came into my mind; yet, if he had +been a girl instead of a boy, he would have been beautiful. The +delicately pencilled brows were exquisite, and out of the small +brown face looked a pair of large, brilliant eyes of an +extraordinary blue—the blue of the wild chicory. When the boy +glanced up or down, there was great play of dark lashes, long, and +amazingly thick. This would have been charming on a girl, but +seemed somehow affected in a boy, though one could hardly have +accused the little snipe of making his own eyelashes. He wore a +very loose-trousered knickerbocker suit of navy-blue; a white silk +shirt or blouse, loose also, with a turned-down Byronic collar and +a careless black bow underneath. He had extremely small hands, +tanned brown, and on the least finger of one was a seal ring. My +impression of this youthful tourist was that in age he might be +anywhere between thirteen and seventeen, and I was sure that he +would be the better for a good thrashing.</p> +<p>"Some rich, silly mother's darling," I said to myself. "Little +milksop, travelling with a muff of a tutor, I suppose. Why doesn't +the ass teach him good manners?"</p> +<p>This lesson seemed particularly necessary, because the youth +persisted in holding the attention of the landlady, who, with a +comfortable back to me, laughed at some sally of the boy's. When I +had stood for a moment or two, waiting for a pause which did not +come, although the brat saw me and knew well what I wanted, I spoke +coldly: "Pardon, madame, I desire something to eat," I said in +French.</p> +<p>The landlady turned, surprised at the voice behind her.</p> +<p>"But certainly, Monsieur. Though I regret that you have come at +an unfortunate time. We have not a great variety to offer you."</p> +<p>"Something of this sort will suit me very well," I replied, +feeling hungrily that chicken, salad, custard, and figs were the +things which of all others I would choose.</p> +<p>"It is most regrettable, Monsieur, but this young gentleman has +our only chicken, unless you could wait for another to be killed, +plucked, and made ready for the table."</p> +<p>I shuddered at the suggestion, and did not hide my repulsion. "I +must put up with an omelette, then, I suppose I can have that?"</p> +<p>"At any other time Monsieur could have had two, if he pleased, +but to-day all our eggs have gone into this custard. The young +gentleman ordered his repast by telegraph, and we did our best. As +for the figs, he brought them himself; but if Monsieur would have a +cutlet of the <i>veau</i>, or––"</p> +<p>"Give me a bottle of wine, and some bread and cheese. I do not +like the <i>veau</i>," I said, with the testiness of a hungry man +disappointed. As I spoke, my eyes were on the boy, who ate his +breast of chicken daintily. Pretty as he was, I should have liked +to kick him.</p> +<p>"Little brat," I apostrophised him once more, in my mind. "If he +were not a pig, he would ask me to accept half his meal. Not that I +would take it. I'd be shot first, so he'd be quite safe; but he +might have the decency to offer."</p> +<p>Worse was to come, however. I had not yet plumbed the black +depths of the Brat's selfishness.</p> +<p>"Certainly, Monsieur; we have very good cheese," madame assured +me soothingly. "If Monsieur would be pleased to step +downstairs."</p> +<p>"I should prefer to remain here," I replied. "This is the room, +is it not, where Napoleon had his <i>déjeuner</i>?"</p> +<p>"The same, Monsieur, in every particular. But unfortunately, it +is for the moment the private sitting-room of this young gentleman, +who has made me an extra price to keep it for himself."</p> +<p>The poor old lady suffered manifest distress in breaking this +news to me, and even in my evil mood I could not add intentionally +to her pain. As for it cause, however, he sat absolutely unmoved. I +think, indeed, from the blue light in his great eyes (which was +absolutely impish), that the situation whetted his appetite. I did +not deign another glance at the little wretch, as I went out, +discomfited, but I felt that he was grinning at my back.</p> +<p>In a room below, I had a very creditable meal, which I should +have enjoyed more, had my nerves not been jarred to viciousness. In +the midst, I heard footsteps running downstairs, and presently +outside the door of the <i>salle-à-manger</i> the boy's +voice—sweet still with childish cadences, as a boy's is +before the change to manhood first breaks, then deepens it.</p> +<p>"If he comes in here, I shall be inclined to throw a rind of +cheese at his head," I thought; but he did not beard me in my den. +The voice passed away, and presently I heard another, unmistakably +that of a woman, giving vent to strange profanities in softest +Provençal French. The speaker was apostrophising some person +or animal, who was, according to her, the most insupportable of +Heaven's creatures; and at last, with calls upon martyred saints, +and cries of "Fanny-anny, Fanny-anny," there mingled a scuffling +and trotting which soon died away in the distance, leaving +stillness.</p> +<p>Soon after, having finished my meal, and paid my bill, I went +out to Joseph. I found him alone with Finois. The donkeys and their +fair guardian had gone.</p> +<p>"Well," said I, as we got upon our way, "I trust you had an +agreeable spell of rest? The lady in the Riviera hat looked +promising. If her conversation matched her appearance, you were in +luck, and well repaid for taking your refreshment out of +doors."</p> +<p>"Monsieur," began Joseph, "have you in English a way of +expressing in one word what a man feels when he is both shocked and +astonished?"</p> +<p>"Flabbergasted might do, at a pinch," I replied, after +deliberation.</p> +<p>"Ah, the good word, 'flabbergasta'! It says much. It is that I +am flabbergasta by the young woman of the <i>ânes</i>. I was +taken, I admit it, Monsieur, by her face, as was but natural. And +then I wished to find out, for the satisfaction of Monsieur and +myself, how so strange a cavalcade came to arrive upon the St. +Bernard Pass.</p> +<p>"I made myself polite. I spoke with praise of the +<i>ânes</i>, and though my advances were coldly received at +first, at the very moment I would in discouragement have ceased my +efforts, the young woman changed her front, and seemed willing to +talk. She would not answer my questions, except to say that she was +of Mentone, and that she had escorted the young gentleman who now +employs her on several excursions, a year ago, when he was on the +Riviera. That he had sent for her and the two <i>ânes</i> to +join him by rail, though the expense was great, and that they were +travelling for the young gentleman's amusement, and his health, as +he had had an illness which has left him still thin, and a little +weak. From what place he had come, or to what place they were +bound, she would not say. Her own name she told me, when I had +asked twice over, but the young gentleman's name she would not +give, nor would she even say the country of his birth. It was when +I brought up this subject that the—the––"</p> +<p>"The flabbergasting began?"</p> +<p>"Precisely, Monsieur. She abused me for my curiosity, and, oh, +Monsieur, the words she used! The profanities! And at the same time +her face as mild as a pigeon's! She taunted me with being a +Protestant, as if it were a black crime which bred others. Her +name, if you would believe it, is Innocentina +Palumbo—<i>Innocentina!</i> But her tongue! Monsieur, I +listened as if I had been turned to stone. And it was at this time +that the young gentleman, of whom she had told me, came out of the +inn. He wished to walk, but Innocentina said that he was already +too tired, and before he knew what was happening, she had him in +the saddle on his <i>âne</i>. So they went off, and where +they will pass the night, their saints alone know, for it is all +but certain that they will never get such animals as those even as +far as the Cantine de Proz."</p> +<p>"They were going in our direction, then?" I said. "We shall pass +them on the way presently."</p> +<p>"I do not doubt it, Monsieur, though they had half an hour's +start."</p> +<p>"Were the boy and the donkey-woman alone? No tutor with +them?"</p> +<p>"Tutor, Monsieur? The poor young gentleman has a tutor and a +duenna in Innocentina. I wish him joy of her."</p> +<p>"I wish her joy of him," said I, remembering my wrongs. But soon +I forgot them and all other troubles past and present, in +surrendering my spirit to the glory of the scene. Joseph had his +triumph, for the surprise he had kept up his sleeve was out at +last. St. Bernard had me at his feet, and held me there. The wild +and gloomy splendour of the Pass struck at my heart, and fired my +imagination. Even the Simplon had nothing like this to give. The +Simplon at its finest sang a pæan to civilisation; it +glorified the science of engineering, and told you that it was a +triumph of modernity. But this strange, unkempt Pass, with its +inadequate road,—now overhanging a sheer precipice, now +dipping down steeply towards the wild bed of its sombre +river,—this Great St. Bernard, seemed a secret way back into +other centuries, savage and remote. I felt shame that I had +patronised it earlier, with condescending admiration of some +prettinesses. No wonder that Joseph had smiled and held his peace, +knowing what was to come. There was the old road, the Roman road, +along which Napoleon had led his staggering thousands. There were +his forts, scarcely yet crumbled into ruin. I saw the army, a +straggling procession of haggard ghosts, following always, and +falling as they followed, enacting again for me the passing scene +of death and anguish. I was one of the men. I struggled on, because +Napoleon needed all his soldiers. Then weakness crushed me, like a +weight of iron. A mist before my eyes shut out the opposite +precipice with its sparse pines, and flashing waterfalls, the +mountain heights beyond, and the merciless blue sky. This was +death. Who cared? The echo of thirty thousand feet was in my ears +as they passed on, leaving me to die by the roadside, as I had left +others before.</p> +<p>I started, and waked from my dream. It was a joyful shock to see +Joseph beside me, in the homely clothes which had replaced his +"Sunday best"; to see Finois and his pack full of my friendly +belongings. But I clung to the comfortable present for a few +moments only. The spell of dead centuries had me in its grip. +Farther and farther back into the land of dead days, I journeyed +with St. Bernard, and helped him found the monastery which the eyes +of my flesh had not yet seen. The eyes of my spirit saw the place, +the nerves of my spirit felt the chill of its remoteness. And even +when I waked again, I could not be sure that I was Montagu Lane, an +idle young man of the twentieth century, who had come for the +gratification of a whim to this fastness where greater men had +ventured in peril and self-sacrifice.</p> +<p>Imagination is the one possession having which no man can be +poor, or mean, or insignificant. He can walk with kings, and he can +see the high places of the world with seeing eyes, a gift which no +money can give; and yet he will have to suffer as those without +imagination never can suffer or picture others suffering.</p> +<p>I told myself this, somewhat grandiloquently, and with +self-gratulation, as I rubbed shoulders with certain of the world's +heroes who had passed along this way; and there was physical relief +after a strain, when the precipitous valley widened into billowy +pastures lying green at the rugged feet of mountains. Can any sound +be more soothing than the tinkle of cow-bells in a mountain pass, +as twilight falls softly, like the wings of a brooding bird? It is +to the ear what a cool draught of spring water is to thirsty lips. +There are verses of poetry in it, only to be reset and rearranged, +like pearls fallen from their string; there is a perfume of +primroses in it; there is the colour of early dawn, or of fading +sunset, when a young moon is rising, curved and white as a baby's +arm; there is also the same voice that speaks from the brook or the +river running over rocks.</p> +<p>Suddenly we were in the midst of a great herd of cows, which +blew out volumes of clover breath upon us, in mild surprise at our +existence. They rubbed against us, or ambled away, lowing to each +other, and I was surprised to find that, instead of each neck being +provided with a bell, as I had fancied from the multitudinous +tinklings, one cow only was thus ornamented.</p> +<p>"How was the selection made?" I asked Joseph. "Did they choose +the most popular cow, a sort of stable-yard belle, voted by her +companions a fit leader of her set; or was the choice guided by +chance?" Joseph could not tell me, and I suppose that I shall never +know.</p> +<p>The big, lumbering forms crowded so closely round us in the +twilight shadows, that now and then, to force a passage, Joseph was +obliged to pull a slowly whisking tail, resembling almost exactly +an old-fashioned bell-rope. Presently we had made our way past the +herd, which was shut from our sight by the curtain of evening, +though up on the mountain-tops it was still golden day.</p> +<p>"There," said Joseph, pointing, "is the Cantine de Proz."</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 333px;"><img src= +"images/134.gif" width="333" height="360" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER +X</p> +<h4>The Scraping of Acquaintance</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"You shall be treated to ... ironical +smiles and mockings."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 20em">—Walt Whitman.<br /></span></div> +</div> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Up the hillside yonder, through the +morning."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 15em">—Robert Browning.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>I saw, standing desolate in the basin of mountains, an old house +of grey stone, very square, very plain, very resolute and staunch +of physiognomy. The windows were still unlighted, and it looked a +gloomy home for months of winter cold and snow. Suddenly, as we +approached, rather wearily now, a yellow gleam flashed out in an +upper window.</p> +<p>"That is the spare room for strangers," said Joseph, and I +thought that there was a note of anxiety in his voice.</p> +<p>"Perhaps someone has arrived before us," I remarked. "I hadn't +thought of that, as you said so few people ever stopped at the +Cantine over night."</p> +<p>"Had you noticed, Monsieur, that after all we never passed the +party with the donkeys?" asked my muleteer.</p> +<p>"I had forgotten them."</p> +<p>"I had not, but it was Monsieur's pleasure to go slowly; to stop +for the views, to look at the ruined torts, and to trace the old +road. We gave them time to get far ahead. I was always watching, +but never saw them. The <i>ânes</i> had more endurance than I +thought, and as for that Innocentina, she is a daughter of Satan; +she would know no fatigue."</p> +<p>"It would be like that little brat to gobble up the one spare +room of the Cantine as he did the one chicken of the +'Déjeûner,'" I muttered. "But we shall see what we +shall see."</p> +<p>We went on more rapidly, and soon arrived at the bottom of a +steep flight of stone steps which led up to the door of the +Cantine. A man came forward to greet us—a fine fellow, with +the frank and lofty bearing of one whose life is passed in high +altitudes.</p> +<p>"Can we have supper and accommodation for the night at your +house?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Supper, most certainly, and with pleasure," came the courteous +answer, "though we have only plain fare to offer. But the one spare +room we have for our occasional guests, has just been taken by a +young English or American gentleman. The woman who drives the two +donkeys with which they travel, will have a bed in the room of my +sister, and we could find sleeping place of a sort for your +muleteer; but I fear we have no way of making Monsieur +comfortable."</p> +<p>I was filled with rage against the wretch who had robbed me of a +decent meal, and would now filch from me a night's rest.</p> +<p>"We have walked a long way," I said, "and are tired. We might +have stopped at St. Pierre, but preferred to come on to you. It is +now too dark to go back, or go on. Surely there are two beds in +your spare room, and as you keep an inn, and pretend to give bed +and board to travellers, you are bound to arrange for my +accommodation."</p> +<p>"The young monsieur pays for the two beds in the spare room, in +order to secure the whole for himself alone," replied the landlord. +"Not expecting any other guests, we agreed to this; but the youth +is perhaps a countryman of yours, and rather than you should go +further, or spend a night of discomfort, he will probably consent +to let you share the room."</p> +<p>"He shall consent, or I will know the reason why," I said to +myself fiercely; but aloud I merely answered that I would be glad +of a few minutes' conversation with the young gentleman.</p> +<p>My host led me to the house door, introduced me to a handsome +sister, who was my hostess, explained to her the situation, with +the view of it we had arrived at, and descended to show Joseph +where to shelter Finois.</p> +<p>My landlady said that she would put the case to the occupant of +the spare room, who was already in his new quarters, preparing for +supper, but I persuaded her that it would be well for me to be on +the spot, and add my arguments to hers. We went upstairs, and in a +dark passage plunged suddenly into a pool of yellow light, gushing +from a half-open door. I hurried forward, step for step with my +guide, lest the door should be shut in my face before I could reach +it. Over my hostess' shoulder, I saw a bare but neat interior; a +"coffin" bed, a white-washed wall, and an uncarpeted floor, +Mademoiselle Innocentina Palumbo sitting upon it, tailor-fashion, +engaged in excavating a large, dark object from a +<i>rücksack</i>. In front of her stood the Brat, deeply +interested in the operation, his curly head bent, his childish +little hands on his hips.</p> +<p>He was talking and laughing gaily; but at the sound of footsteps +in the passage he glanced up, and, seeing me, stared in haughty +surprise, which tipped the scales towards anger.</p> +<p>"Here is a monsieur who is belated on the Pass, and begs" (this +was hardly the way in which I would have put it) "that he may be +allowed to share your room," explained our landlady.</p> +<p>"<i>Share my room!</i>" repeated the Brat, so dumfounded at the +simple statement that he spoke in English. Now I knew that he was a +countryman, not of mine, but of Molly's, and I wished that she were +here to deal with him. "I have never heard anything so—so +ridiculous."</p> +<p>"Really," said I, assuming an air I had found successful with +freshers in good old days of under-grad-dom (Molly called it my +"belted hearl" manner), "really, I fail to see anything ridiculous +in the proposal. This is an inn, which professes to accommodate +travellers. I have a right to insist upon a bed."</p> +<p>To my intense irritation Innocentina giggled. The Brat did not +laugh, but he grew rosy, like a girl. Even his little ears turned +pink, under his absurd mop of chestnut curls. "You have no right to +insist upon mine," retorted he, in the honey-sweet contralto which +tried in vain to make of a pert imp, an angel.</p> +<p>"You cannot sleep in two," said I.</p> +<p>"That is my affair, since I have agreed to pay for them."</p> +<p>"I contend that you cannot pay for both, since one is legally +mine, by the laws protecting travellers," I argued truculently, +hoping to frighten the rude child, though I should have been sore +put to it to prove my point.</p> +<p>"I have always heard that possession is nine points of the law," +said he, impudent and apparently unintimidated. "This is my room, +every hole and corner of it, and if you try to intrude, I shall +simply sit up and yell all night, and throw things, so that you +will not get an instant's sleep. I swear it."</p> +<p>Then I lost my temper. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself," I +exclaimed. "I wonder where you were brought up?"</p> +<p>"Where big boys never bully little ones."</p> +<p>"Of all the selfish, impertinent brats!" I could not help +muttering.</p> +<p>"If I'm a brat, you're a brute, sir. You have only to glance at +the dictionary to see which is worse."</p> +<p>He looked so impish, defying me, like a miniature Ajax, that +with all the will in the world to box his ears, I burst out +laughing.</p> +<p>Checking my mirth as soon as I could, however, I covered its +inappropriateness with a steely frown. "I do not need to glance at +the dictionary to see that you would be a detestable room-mate," +said I, "and on second thoughts I prefer to sleep quietly in the +stable rather than press my claim here." With this, I turned on my +heel, not giving the enemy time for another volley, and stalked +downstairs, followed, I regret to say, by Innocentina's ribald +laughter.</p> +<p>Almost immediately I was rejoined by the handsome landlady, who, +profuse in her regrets, though she had understood no word of what +had passed, attempted to console me with the promise of a bed in +the <i>salle-à-manger</i>. Meanwhile, if I desired to wash, +her brother would superintend my ablutions.</p> +<p>Over those rites (which were duly performed at a pump, while the +little wretch upstairs wallowed in the luxury of a basin almost as +large as my hat), I draw a veil. By the time that they were +finished, and I was shining with yellow kitchen soap, having been +unable to make use of my own in the circumstances, supper was +ready. I walked sulkily into the room, which later would be +transformed into my bedchamber, and to my annoyance saw the Brat +already seated at the table. I had fancied that his conscience +would counsel supping privately in the room he had usurped, but +this imp seemed to have been born without a sense of shame. Thanks +to him, I had not even been able to give myself a clean collar, as +it had not been possible to open the mule-pack and improvise a +dressing-room in the neighbourhood of the pump. But he—he, +the usurper, he, the guilty one—had changed from his +low-necked shirt and blue serge jacket and knickers into a kind of +evening costume, original, I should say, to himself, or copied from +some stage child, or Christmas Annual.</p> +<p>He did not speak to me, nor I to him, though, as I sat down in +the chair placed for me at the opposite end of the table, I caught +a sapphire gleam from the brilliant eyes, which burned so vividly +in the little brown face.</p> +<p>There came an omelette. It was passed to me. Maliciously, I +selected the best bit from the middle. The boy took what was left. +Veal followed, in the form of cutlets, two in number. A glance +showed me that one was mostly composed of bone and gristle. I +helped myself to the other. Revenge was mine at last, though to +enjoy it fully I must have a peep at the enemy, to make sure that +he felt and understood his righteous punishment.</p> +<p>But life is crowded with disappointments. The foe was looking +incredibly small, and young, and meek, a puny thing for a man to +wreak his vengeance on. With long lashes cast down, making a deep +shadow on his thin cheeks, he sat wrestling with his portion, from +which the cleverest manipulation of knife and fork was powerless to +extract an inch of nourishment. As he gave up the struggle at last, +with unmoved countenance, and not even a sigh of complaint, my +heart failed me. I felt that I had snatched bread from the mouth of +starving infanthood. Had not Joseph learned from Innocentina that +the boy had lately recovered from a severe illness? Unspeakable +brat that he was, and small favour that he deserved at my hands, I +resolved that he should have the best of the next dish when it came +round.</p> +<p>This good intention, however, went to supply another stone in +that place which seems ever in need of repaving. Cheese succeeded +the veal, a well-meaning but somewhat overpowering cheese, and +neither the Brat nor I encouraged it. It was borne away, intact, +and after a short delay appeared a dish of plums, with another of +small and attractive cakes, evidently imported from a town.</p> +<p>I saw the boy's eye brighten as it fell upon the cakes. He +glanced from them to me, as I was offered my choice, and said +hastily: "There is one cake there which I want very much. I suppose +if I tell you which it is, you will eat it."</p> +<p>"There is also only one which I care for," said I. "I wonder if +it's the same?"</p> +<p>"Probably," said the boy. "If you take it, there isn't another +which I would be found dead with in my mouth, on a desert island. +And I haven't had much dinner."</p> +<p>"<i>I</i> had to wash under the pump," said I. "Still, greatness +lies in magnanimity. You shall choose your cake first; but +remember, you cannot have it, and eat it, too; so make up your mind +quickly which is better."</p> +<p>"I always thought that a stupid saying," remarked the Brat, as +he helped himself to a ginger-nut with pink icing. "I have my cake, +and when I have eaten it, I take another."</p> +<p>"Your experience in life has been fortunate," I replied, +contenting myself with the second-best cake. "But it has not been +long. When you are a man––"</p> +<p>"A man! I would rather die—young than grow up to be +one."</p> +<p>"Indeed?" I exclaimed, surprised at this outburst.</p> +<p>"I hate men."</p> +<p>"Ah, perhaps then, your experience has not been as fortunate in +men as in cakes."</p> +<p>"No, it hasn't. It has been just the opposite."</p> +<p>"One would say, 'Thereby hangs a tale.'"</p> +<p>"There does. But it is not for strangers."</p> +<p>"I'm not a lover of after-dinner stories. Here comes the coffee. +Luckily, there's plenty for us both. Will you have a +cigarette?"</p> +<p>"No, thanks."</p> +<p>"A cigar, then?"</p> +<p>"I don't smoke."</p> +<p>"Ah, some boys' heads <i>won't</i> stand it. I'm ashamed to say +that I smoked at fourteen. But perhaps you're not +yet––"</p> +<p>"I will change my mind and have a cigarette, since you are so +obliging."</p> +<p>"Sure you won't regret it?"</p> +<p>"Quite sure, thank you."</p> +<p>"They're rather strong."</p> +<p>"I'm not afraid."</p> +<p>He took a cigarette from my case, and smoked it daintily. +Whether it were my imagination, or whether a slight pallor did +really become visible under the sun-tan on the velvet-smooth face, +I am not certain: but at all events he rose when nothing was left +between his fingers save an ash clinging to a bit of gold paper, +and excused himself with belated politeness.</p> +<p>Not long after, my bed was made up on the floor, and I slept as +I fancy few kings sleep.</p> +<p>Strange; not then, or ever, did I dream of Helen.</p> +<hr /> +<p>The voice of Finois or some near relative of his roused me at +dawn. I remembered where I was, whither bound, and sleep instantly +seemed irrelevant. I scrambled up from my lonely couch, went to the +open window, which was a square of grey-green light, and looked out +at the mountain walls of the valley basin.</p> +<p>The day was not awake yet, but only half conscious that it must +awake. There was the faint thrill of mystery which comes with +earliest dawn, as though it were for you alone of all the world, +and no one else could find his way down its dim labyrinths. But +even as I looked, there came a movement near the house, and I saw +the stalwart figure of the landlord shape itself from the shadows. +Other forms were stirring too, the stolid forms of cows, and those +of two sturdy little ponies, which were being turned into a +pasture.</p> +<p>It occurred to me that I could not do better than get through my +toilet, and, if Joseph and Finois were of the same mind, make an +early start. I thought that if I could reach the Hospice before all +the gold of sunrise had boiled over night's brim, I should have a +picture to frame in memory.</p> +<p>At bedtime they had given me a wooden tub such as laundresses +use, and filled it for my morning bath. I had my own soap, and a +great, clean, coarse dish-towel of crash or some such material. +Never before was there a bath like it, with the good smell of +pinewood of which the tub was made, and the tingle of the water +from a mountain spring. I revelled in it, and as I dressed could +have sung for pure joy of life, until I remembered that I was a +jilted man, and this tour a voyage of consolation.</p> +<p>"You are miserable, you know." I informed my reflection in a +small, strange-coloured glass, which allowed me to shave my face in +greenish sections. "It is a kind of madness, this spurious gaiety +of yours."</p> +<p>In half an hour I was out of the house, and found Joseph feeding +Finois. They were both prepared to leave at ten minutes' notice, +and when the two human creatures of the party had been refreshed +with crusty bread and steaming coffee, the procession of three set +forth. As for the boy, the donkeys and their guardian, as far as I +knew they were still sleeping the sleep of the unjust.</p> +<p>If the Pass had been glorious in open day, and by falling +twilight, it was doubly wonderful in this mystic dawn-time before +the lamp of the rising sun had lit the valley. The green alps where +the cattle pasture were faintly musical, far and near, with the +ringing of unseen bells, and the air was vibrant with the rush and +whisper of waters. As the shadows melted in the crucible of dawn, +and an opaline high trembled on the dark mountain-tops that towered +round us, I saw marvels which either had not existed last night, or +I had been dull clod enough to miss them.</p> +<p>Fairy wild-flowers such as I had never seen studded the rocks +with jewels of blue and gold, and rose, and little silver stars; +and there were some wonderful, shining things of creamy grey plush, +suggesting glorified thistles.</p> +<p>We walked through the Valley of Death, where many of Napoleon's +men had perished; and the first rays of sunrise touched the tragic +rocks with the gold of hope. Up, up beyond the alps and the sparse +pine-trees we climbed, until we came to the snowline, and passed +beyond the first white ledge, carved in marble by the cold hand of +a departed winter. Down through a gap in the mountains streamed an +icy blast, and I had to remind myself, shivering, that this was +August, not December. The wind tore apart the fabric of lacy cloud +which had been looped in folds across the rock-face, like a veil +hiding the worn features of some aged nun, and showed jagged +mountain peaks, towering against a sky of mother-o'-pearl. +Suddenly, after a steep ascent, we saw before us a tall, lonely +mass of grey stone, built upon the rock. Behind it the sun had +risen, and fired to burnished gold the still lake which mirrored +the Hospice and its dark wall of mountains, seamed with snow.</p> +<p>The impression of high purity, of peace won through privation, +and of nearness to Heaven itself, was so strong upon me, that I +seemed to hear a voice speaking a benediction.</p> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER +XI</p> +<h4>A Shadow of Night</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"This villain, ... He dares—I know +not half he dares—<br /></span> <span> But remove +him—quick!"<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 18em">—Robert Browning.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>So early was it still, I feared we had come before the +brotherhood were astir to receive visitors; but as I looked up at +the great, grey, silent building, the noble head of a magnificent +St. Bernard dog appeared in the doorway, at the top of steep stone +steps. There could not have been a more appropriate welcome to this +remote dwelling of a devoted band; and when the dog, after gazing +gravely at the newcomers, vanished into darkness, I knew that he +had gone in to tell of our arrival. I was right, too, for once +within, he uttered a deep bell-note, more sonorous and more musical +than lies in the throats of common dogs, and was answered by a +distant baying. One could not say that these majestic animals +"barked." There was as indisputable a difference between an +ordinary bark, and the sound they made, as between the barrel +instrument played in the streets, and a grand cathedral organ.</p> +<p>Joseph had visited the Hospice many times, and knew the +etiquette for strangers. He bade me go in, and ring the bell at the +<i>grille</i>, unless I should meet one of the monks before +reaching it. I mounted the steps, entered the wide doorway which +had framed the dog's head, and found myself in a vast, dusky +corridor, resonant with strange echoings, and mysterious with +flitting shadows, which might be ghosts of the past, or live beings +of the present. As my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, I saw that +there were numerous persons in this great hall: tall monks in +flowing robes of black, beggars come to solicit alms or breakfast; +and dogs, many dogs, who crowded round me, with a waving of huge +tails, and a gleaming of brown jewelled eyes in the dusk. I did not +need to ring the bell of the iron gate beyond which, according to +Joseph, no woman has ever passed. One of the monks came to +me—a tall, spare young man with a grave face, soft in +expression, yet hardened in outline by a rigorous life and exposure +to extreme cold. He gave me welcome in French, with here and there +an interpellation of "Down, Turk," "Be quiet, Jupiter!" Would I +like breakfast, he asked; and then—yes, certainly—to +see the chapel, the <i>bibliothèque</i>, the monastery +museum, and the Alpine garden? There would be plenty of time for +this, and still to reach Aosta. Another monk was called, and an +introduction effected. I was taken into a handsomely decorated +refectory, where I opened my eyes in some astonishment at sight of +the Imp, drinking coffee from a shallow bowl nearly as big as his +childish head. Innocentina was no doubt at this moment shocking +Joseph by some new depravity, in the <i>salle-à-manger</i> +where humbler folk were entertained with the same hospitality as +their (so called) betters.</p> +<p>The Brat set down his bowl, and saw me, as I subsided into a +chair on the opposite side of the long, narrow table. His face +flushed, and the brilliant blue eyes clouded, but he deigned to +acknowledge our acquaintance with a slight bow.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a name="i148" id= +"i148"><img src="images/148.jpg" width="700" height="483" alt= +""DOWN, TURK!" "BE QUIET, JUPITER!"" title= +""DOWN, TURK!" "BE QUIET, JUPITER!"" /></a></div> +<p>"I didn't suppose you would have started yet," said I.</p> +<p>"I thought the same thing about you," he retorted. "We got off +very quietly from the Cantine––"</p> +<p>"Ah, you wished to steal a march on me," I broke in, "But +really, my young friend, you need not have feared that I should +impose myself upon you as a travelling companion. My one object in +making this excursion is, if not to enjoy my own society, at any +rate to experiment with it, therefore––"</p> +<p>"I have <i>two</i> objects in making mine," the boy interrupted. +"One is to avoid men; the other is to find materials for writing a +book, with no men in it—only places."</p> +<p>"It will not be owing to me, if you fail in the former," said I. +"As for the latter, naturally it will depend upon yourself. What +shall you call it—'A Chiel takkin' Notes' or 'In Search of +the Grail'?"</p> +<p>He blushed vividly. "I haven't decided on the name yet, but it +can't matter to you, as I do not expect you to buy the book when it +comes out; nor need you be afraid that you will figure in the +pages. If I were to call my book 'In Search of—anything,' it +would be, 'In Search of Peace.'"</p> +<p>With this, the strange child rose from the table, and bowing, +departed, leaving me lost in wonder at him. He was but an infant, +and an impertinent infant at that; yet suddenly I had had a glimpse +through the great sea-blue eyes, of a soul, weary after some tragic +experience. At least this was the impression which flashed into my +mind, with the one look I surprised before lashes hid its secret; +but in a moment I was laughing at myself. Ridiculous to have such a +thought in connection with a slip of a boy, seventeen at most! I +lingered over my breakfast, so that the Brat have finished his +sightseeing and got away, before my tour of the Hospice began.</p> +<p>He and I had had the table to ourselves at first, but I sat so +long that others came in, evidently persons who had spent the night +at the monastery. There was a Russian family, of so many daughters +that I wondered their parents had found names for them all; a +couple of German women in plaid blouses so terrible that they set +me speculating. Had the material been chosen by their husbands, +with the view of alienating all masculine admiration, as a Japanese +girl, when married, blackens her teeth? Or had the ladies inflicted +the frightful things upon themselves, by way of penance for some +grievous sin? I should have liked to ask, especially as one of the +wearers was very pretty, with a large, madonna loveliness. But +under my dreaming eyes, she began eating honey with her knife, and +I sprang from the table hastily. As I paused, I heard two stolid +Cockneys asking each other why the—dickens they had come to +this "beastly, cold, God-forsaken hole, with nothing but a lot of +ugly mountains to see. There was better sport in Oxford Street." I +should not have considered it murder if I had killed them where +they sat, but I refrained, rather than soil my hands. And after +all, if a primrose on a river's brim, but a yellow primrose was to +them, what did it matter to me?</p> +<p>I visited the <i>bibliothèque</i>, which was haunted by a +fragrance intoxicating to booklovers, of dead centuries, leather +bindings, and parchment. I saw the piano given by the King when he +was Prince of Wales; the fine collection of coins and early Roman +remains found in the neighbourhood of the monastery; I dropped a +louis into the box of offerings in the chapel, and then was taken +by a mild-eyed, frail-looking monk to see some of the rooms +allotted to guests at the Hospice. Seeing them, I was inclined to +wish that I had pushed on through the darkness last night, and +reached this mountain-top to sleep. I liked the wainscoted walls, +the white, canopied beds, but most of all, I liked the deep-set +windows with their view of the silent lake, asleep in the bosom of +the mountains, and dreaming of the sky. On most of the walls were +votive offerings in the shape of pictures, sent to the monks by +grateful visitors in far-off countries. One was an engraving which +had adorned the nursery in my youth, and had been a never-failing +source of curiosity to me. It was Gustave Doré's "Christian +Martyrs," and I had once been deprived of pudding at the nursery +dinner, because I had remarked (with irreverence wholly +unintentional) that one of the lions seemed ill, and anxious to +"climb up the wall and get away from the nasty martyrs." Thus it is +that children are misunderstood by their elders! and now, as I +gazed at the same picture on the monastery wall, I felt again all +the old, impotent rebellion against injustice and misplaced +power.</p> +<p>Later, I wandered through the pathetically interesting Alpine +garden, carefully kept by the monks; and then, sure that by this +time the Brat and his cavalcade must be far on their way, I +started, with Joseph and Finois, to stroll down the Pass towards +Aosta.</p> +<p>I had promised Jack and Molly to tell them in my letters, +whether it would be possible for them, with a motor, to go by some +of the routes which I chose. Over the St. Bernard from Martigny to +the Hospice they could not have ventured, even in the stealthy, +fly-by-night manner in which they had "done" the St. Gothard and +the Simplon; for on the St. Bernard the road was always narrow, +often stony and dangerous. Beyond, on the other side, even +carriages cannot yet pass, descending to Aosta, though in another +year the new road will be finished. As it is, for many a generation +pilgrims from the Hospice to Italy have been obliged to go down as +far as the mountain village of St. Rhémy either on foot or +mule-back; thus there was no hope for Mercédès +there.</p> +<p>I went swinging down the steep and winding path, my heart +chanting a psalm to the mountains. Mountains like cathedrals, with +carved, graceful spires; mountains like frozen waves left by some +great sea when the world was chaos; mountains like leaning towers +of Pisa; mountains like sentinel Titans; mountains silver-grey; +mountains dark-red. The "Pain de Sucre" was strangest of all in +form, perhaps, and Joseph distressed me much by remarking +guilelessly that it, and other white shapes at which he pointed, +looked exactly like frosted wedding-cakes. It was true; they did; +but they looked like nobler things also, and I resented having so +cheap a simile put into my head.</p> +<p>With every step the way grew more glorious. This was an +enchanted land. I could hardly believe that thousands of travellers +had seen it before, and would again. I felt as if I had fallen +Sindbad-like, into a valley undiscovered by man; and, like +Sindbad's valley, this sparkled to my dazzled eyes with countless +gems. Not all cold, white diamonds, like his, but gems of every +colour. The rocks through which our path was cut, glowed with +rainbow hues, like different precious metals blended. This effect +struck me at first (in the brilliant sunshine which alone kept me +from being nipped with cold) as puzzling, but in a moment I had +solved the "jewel mystery" of the mountains. The rocks were of +porphyry, and marble, and granite, spangled with mica; and over all +spread in patches a lichen of rose, and green, and yellow, like +chipped rubies and emeralds among gold-filings.</p> +<p>So wild and splendid was the scene, composed and painted by a +peerless Master, that I slackened my pace, reluctant to leave so +much splendour behind; but despite all delaying, we came after a +time down to tree-level. The landscape changed; the diamond spray +of miniature cataracts dashed over high cliffs, among balsamic pine +forests; the sunshine brought out the intense green of moss and +fern. We met porters struggling up the height with luggage on their +backs, and fat women riding depressed mules. It was very +mediæval, and I had the sensation of having walked into a +picture—round the corner of it, into the best part which you +know must be there, though it can't be seen by outsiders.</p> +<p>It took us an hour and a half to walk the eleven kilometres down +to St. Rhémy, where we lunched well, and drank a sparkling +wine of the country which may have been meretricious, but tasted +good. There was a <i>douane</i>, for we had now passed out of +Switzerland into Italy, and my mule-pack was examined with +curiosity; but why I should have been questioned with insistence as +to whether I were concealing sausages, I could not guess, unless a +swashbuckling German princeling who married into our family eight +generations ago, was using my eyes for windows at the time.</p> +<p>I need not have feared that the best of the journey would be +over at St. Rhémy, for the road (which broadened there, and +became "navigable" for motor cars as well as horse-drawn vehicles), +wound down still among stupendous mountains capped with snow, +jagged peaks of dark granite, and purple porphyry which glowed +crimson in contrast with the dazzling snow.</p> +<p>We did not leave St. Rhémy till long past one, and as we +descended upon lower levels the sun grew hot. More than once I +called a halt, and we had a delicious rest under a tree in some +exquisite glade a little removed from the roadside. It was during +one of these, while Finois cropped an indigestible branch, that +Joseph opened his heart, and told me his life's history. It had +been more or less adventurous, and it had held a tragedy, for +Joseph had loved, and the fair had jilted him on the eve of their +marriage, for a prosperous baker. This fellow-feeling (for had we +not both been thrown over for tradesmen?) made me wondrous kind +towards Joseph; and when I had drawn from him the fact that his +great ambition was to own three donkeys, and start in business for +himself, I secretly determined to see what could be done towards +forwarding this end.</p> +<p>We did not hurry, and while we were still far above Aosta, the +shadows lengthened and thinned, like children who have grown too +fast. We exchanged chestnuts for pines, and the pure ethereal blue +of Italy burned in the sky. Everywhere was rich abundance of +colour. The green of trees and grass was luscious; even the shadows +were of a translucent purple. Below us the valley of Aosta lay, so +dreamily lovely, so peaceful, that one could imagine there only +happiness and prosperity.</p> +<p>I remarked this to Joseph, and he smiled his melancholy smile. +"It is beautiful," he said, "and when you are down at the bottom, +you will not be disappointed in the country. But for happiness? it +is no better than elsewhere. Wait till you see the +<i>crétins</i>; there is a <i>crétin</i> in almost +every family. And not long ago there was a dreadful murder in the +neighbourhood of Aosta. The criminal has not yet been caught. He is +supposed to be hiding somewhere in the mountains, and the police +cannot find him. There is a printed notice out, warning people to +beware of the murderer—so I read in a newspaper not long ago +and I have heard that the inhabitants of all these little hamlets +we see here and there, dare not go from village to village after +dark, for fear of being attacked."</p> +<p>"Then, if we should happen to be belated, we might have an +adventure?" I said.</p> +<p>"Indeed, it is not at all unlikely, Monsieur. No doubt the man +is desperate, and if he saw a chance to get a change of clothing, a +mule, and some money, he might risk attacking even two travellers, +from behind. But we shall arrive at Aosta before dark, and I am +afraid––"</p> +<p>"I'll warrant you're not afraid of danger."</p> +<p>"That we shall get no such sport, Monsieur."</p> +<p>Even as he spoke there came, with the wind blowing up from the +valley, a loud, long-drawn shriek of fear or distress, uttered by a +woman. We looked at each other, Joseph and I, and then without a +word set off running down the hill, in the direction of the cry. +Again it came, "À moi—à moi!" We could hear the +words, now, and then a wild, inarticulate scream.</p> +<p>I bounded down the winding white road, where the evening shadows +lay, and Joseph followed, somehow dragging Finois—at least, I +am sure that he would not have left his beloved beast +behind,—and so at last we turned a sharp bend of the path, +thickly fringed with a dense wood, where suddenly Innocentina +sprang almost into my arms. She ran to me, blindly, not seeing who +it was, but knowing by instinct that help was at hand. "A +robber—a murderer!" she panted. "Oh, save—" and then, I +think, she fainted.</p> +<p>I have a vague recollection of tossing her to Joseph, and +plunging into the dim wood, where something moved, half-hidden by +the crowding trees. It was the donkeys I saw at first, and then I +came full upon a man, dressed all in the brown of the tree trunks, +so that at a distance he would not be seen among them, in the dusk. +He had the <i>rücksack</i> I had noticed at the Cantine de +Proz in one hand, and with the other he had just drawn a knife from +the belt under his coat. On the ground crouched the Boy, shielding +his bowed face with a slim, blue-serge arm.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a name="i158" id= +"i158"><img src="images/158.gif" width="700" height="492" alt= +""ON THE GROUND CROUCHED THE BOY"." title= +""ON THE GROUND CROUCHED THE BOY"." /></a></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id= +"CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</p> +<h4>The Princess</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"My little body is aweary of this great +world."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 17em">—Shakespeare.<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>This was the tableau photographed on my retina as I sprang +forward; but I drew the revolver which had occasioned Winston's +mirth when Molly gave it to me at Brig, and in an instant the +picture had dissolved. The man in brown dropped the +<i>rücksack</i>, and ran as I have never seen man run +before—ran as if he wore seven-leagued boots. My revolver was +not loaded, and all the cartridges were among my shirts and +collars, on Finois' back, therefore I could pursue him with nothing +more dangerous than anathemas, unless I had deserted the boy, who +seemed at first glance to be almost as near fainting as +Innocentina.</p> +<p>Reluctantly letting the man go free, I bent over the little +figure in blue, still on its knees. "Are you hurt?" I asked in real +anxiety, such as I had not thought it possible to feel for the +Brat.</p> +<p>"No—only my arm. He wrung it so. And perhaps I have +twisted my knee. I don't know yet. He pushed me back, and I fell +down."</p> +<p>I lifted him up and supported him for a moment, he leaning +against me, the colour drained from cheeks and lips. But suddenly +it streamed back, even to his forehead; and raising his head from +my shoulder where it had lain for a few seconds, he unwound himself +gently from my arm. "I'm all right now, thank you awfully," he +said. "I believe you have saved my life and Innocentina's. You see, +we fought with the man for our things; and when he saw that he +couldn't steal them without a struggle, he whipped out a knife +and—and then you came. Oh, he was a coward to attack +two—two people so much weaker than himself, and then to run +away when a stronger one came!"</p> +<p>I kept Joseph's story to myself, and hoped that the boy had not +heard it. Perhaps, after all, this lurking beast of prey had not +been the murderer in hiding. The place was desolate, and evening +was falling. Some tramp, or thievish peasant, taking advantage of +the murder-scare, might easily have dared this attack; and when I +glanced at the picnic array under a tree near by, I was even less +surprised than before at the thing which had happened.</p> +<p>The mouse-coloured pack-donkey had been denuded of his load, and +the most elaborate tea basket I had ever seen (finer even than +Molly's) was open on the ground. If the cups, plates and saucers, +the knives, spoons and forks, were not silver, they were +masquerading hypocrites; and I now discovered that the large, dark +object which I had seen Innocentina putting into the +<i>rücksack</i> (at this moment half on, half off) was a very +handsome travelling bag. It was gaping wide, the mouth fixed in +position with patent catches, and it lay where the disappointed +thief had flung it, tumbled on its side, with a quantity of gold +and crystal fittings scattered round about. On the gold backs of +the brushes, and the tops of the bottles, was an intricate +monogram, traced in small turquoises.</p> +<p>"By Jove!" I exclaimed. "Do you travel with these things? What +madness to spread them out in the woods by an unfrequented mountain +road! That is to offer too much temptation even to the honest +poor."</p> +<p>"I know," said the boy meekly. "It was stupid to picnic in such +a place, but we had come fast" (with this he had the grace to look +a little shame-faced, knowing that I knew <i>why</i> he had come +fast) "and we were tired. It was so beautiful here, and seemed so +peaceful that we never thought of danger, at this time of day. We +had just begun to pack up our things to move on again, when there +was a rustling behind us, the crackling of a branch under a foot, +and that wretch sprang out. I was frightened, but—I hate +being a coward, and I just made up my mind he <i>shouldn't</i> have +our things. Innocentina screamed, and I struck at the man with the +stick she uses to drive Fanny and Souris. Then he got out his +knife, and Innocentina screamed a good deal more, and—I don't +quite know what did happen after that, till you came."</p> +<p>"Well, I'm thankful I was near," I said. "And I must say that, +though it was foolhardy to make such a display of valuables, you +were a plucky little David to defend your belongings against such a +Goliath. I admire you for it."</p> +<p>The boy flushed with pleasure. "Oh, do you really think I was +plucky?" he asked. "Everything was so confused, I wasn't sure. I'd +rather be plucky than anything. Thank you for saying that, almost +as much as for saving our lives. And—and I'm dreadfully sorry +I called you a—brute, last night."</p> +<p>"It was only because I called you a brat. I fully deserved it, +and we'll cry quits, if you don't mind. Now, I'd better see how the +fainting lady is, and then I'll help you get your things together. +How are the knee and arm?"</p> +<p>"Nothing much wrong with them after all, I think," said the boy, +limping a little as he walked by my side back to the road, where I +had left Innocentina with Joseph.</p> +<p>We had taken but a few steps, when they both appeared, the young +woman white under her tan, her eyes big and frightened. She was +herself again, very thankful for so good an end to the adventure, +and volubly ashamed of the weakness to which she had given way. In +the midst of her explanations and enquiries, however, I noticed +that she took time now and then to throw a glance at my muleteer, +not scornful and defiant, as on the day before, but grateful and +mildly feminine. In conclave we agreed to say nothing in Aosta of +the grim encounter, lest our lives should be made miserable by +<i>gendarmes</i> and much red tape. But Joseph, less diplomatic +than I, had not scrupled to seize the moment of Innocentina's +recovery to pour into her ears the story of the escaped criminal, +and the excitement in which he had plunged the neighbouring +country. She was anxious to hurry on as quickly as possible, lest +night should overtake her party on the way, and, still pale and +tremulous, she sprang eagerly to the work of gathering up the +scattered belongings. While she and Joseph put the tea-basket to +rights, the boy and I rearranged the gorgeous fittings of the bag, +and discovered that not even a single bottle-top was missing.</p> +<p>"What a burden to carry on a donkey's back!" I laughed. "You are +a regular Beau Brummel."</p> +<p>"Why not?" pleaded the boy. "I like pretty things, and this is +very convenient. It is no trouble for Souris. When the bag is in +the <i>rücksack</i>, no one would suspect that it is valuable. +I have carried all this luggage so, ever since Lucerne, and never +had any bother before."</p> +<p>"What, you too started from Lucerne?"</p> +<p>"Yes. I had Innocentina and the donkeys come up from the +Riviera, to meet me there. We have been a long time on the +way—weeks: for we have stopped wherever we liked, and as long +as we liked. Until to-day we haven't had a single real adventure. I +was wishing for one, but now—well, I suppose most adventures +are disagreeable when they are happening, and only turn nice +afterwards, in memory."</p> +<p>"Like caterpillars when they become butterflies. But look here, +my young friend David, lest you meet another Goliath, I really +think you'd better put up with the proximity (I don't say society) +of that hateful animal, Man, as far as Aosta. Joseph and I will +either keep a few yards in advance, or a few yards in the rear, not +to annoy you with our detestable company, but––"</p> +<p>"Please don't be revengeful," entreated the ex-Brat. "You have +been so good to us, don't be un-good now. I suppose one may hate +men, yet be grateful to one man—anyhow, till one finds him +out? I can't very well find you out between here and Aosta, can +I?—so we may be friends, if you'll walk beside me, neither +behind nor in front. I am excited, and feel as if I <i>must</i> +have someone to talk to, but I am a little tired of conversation +with Innocentina. I know all she has ever thought about since she +was born."</p> +<p>"It's a bargain then," said I. "We're friends and +comrades—until Aosta. After that––"</p> +<p>"Each goes his own way," he finished my broken sentence; "as +ships pass in the night. But this little sailing boat won't forget +that the big bark came to its help, in a storm which it couldn't +have weathered alone."</p> +<p>"Do you know," said I, as we walked on together, the muleteer +and the donkey girl behind us, with the animals, "you are a very +odd boy. I suppose it is being American. Are all American boys like +you?"</p> +<p>"Yes," said he, twinkling, "all. I am cut on exactly the same +pattern as the rest," and he smiled a charming smile, of which I +could not resist the curious fascination. "Did you never meet any +American boys, till you met me?"</p> +<p>"I can't remember having any real conversation with one, except +once. His mother had asked me in his presence (it was in New York) +how I liked America, and I had answered that it dazzled me; that +the only yearning I felt was for something dark and quiet, and +small and uncomfortable. She was rather pleased, but the boy put a +string across the drawing-room door when I went out, and tripped me +up. Then we had a little conversation—quite a short +one—but full of repartee. That's my solitary experience."</p> +<p>"I should have wanted to trip you up for that speech, too; so +you see the likeness is proved. It is a funny thing, I know very +few Englishmen. I've met several, but, as you say, I never had any +real conversation with them."</p> +<p>"Maybe, if you had, you wouldn't be so down on your sex when it +has reached adolescence."</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a name="i166" id= +"i166"><img src="images/166.gif" width="700" height="586" alt= +""'DO YOU KNOW,' SAID I, 'YOU ARE A VERY QUEER BOY'"." +title= +""'DO YOU KNOW,' SAID I, 'YOU ARE A VERY QUEER BOY'"." /></a></div> +<p>"I'm afraid there isn't much difference in men, whatever their +country. But it's—their attitude towards women which I +hate."</p> +<p>I laughed. "What do you know about that?"</p> +<p>"I have a sister," said he, after a minute's pause. And he did +not laugh. "She and I have been—tremendous chums all our +lives. There isn't a thing she has done, or a thought she has had, +that I don't know, and the other way round, of course."</p> +<p>"Twins?" I asked.</p> +<p>"She is twenty-one."</p> +<p>"Oh, four or five years older than you."</p> +<p>The boy evidently did not take this as a question. "She is +unfortunately an heiress," he said. "Money has brought misery upon +her, and through her, on me; for if she suffers, I suffer too. She +used to believe in everybody. She thought men were even more +sincere and upright than women, because their outlook on life was +larger, and so it was easy for her to be deceived. When she came +out she wasn't quite eighteen (you see we have no father or mother, +only a lazy old guardian-uncle), and she thought everyone was +wonderfully kind to her, so she was very happy. I suppose there +never was a happier girl—for a while. But by-and-bye she +began to find out things. She discovered that the men who seemed +the nicest only cared for her money, not for her at all."</p> +<p>"How could she be sure of that?"</p> +<p>"It was proved, over and over again, in lots of ways."</p> +<p>"But if she is a pretty and charming girl––"</p> +<p>"I think she is only odd—like me. People don't understand +her, especially men. They find her strange, and men don't like +girls to be strange."</p> +<p>"Don't they? I thought they did."</p> +<p>"Think for yourself. Have you ever been at all in love? And if +you have, wasn't the girl quite, quite conventional; just a nice +sweet girl, who was pretty, and who flirted, and who was too +properly brought up ever to do or to say anything to surprise +you?"</p> +<p>"Well," I admitted, my mind reviewing this portrait of Helen, +which was really a well-sketched likeness, "now you put it in that +way, I confess the girl I've cared for most was of the type you +describe. I can see that now, though I didn't think of it +then."</p> +<p>"No, you wouldn't; men don't. My sister soon learned that she +wasn't really the sort of girl to be popular, though she had dozens +of proposals, heaps of flowers every day, had to split up each +dance several times at a ball, and all that kind of thing. It was a +shock to find out <i>why</i>. To her face, they called her +'Princess,' and she was pleased with the nickname at first, poor +thing. She took it for a compliment to herself. But she came to +know that behind her back it was different; she was the 'Manitou +Princess.' You see, the money, or most of it, came because father +owned the biggest silver mines in Colorado, and he named the +principal one 'Manitou,' after the Indian spirit. I shan't forget +the day when a man she'd just refused, told her the vulgar +nickname—and a few other things that hurt. But I don't know +why I'm talking to you like this. I wanted to get away from you +yesterday, because I—don't care to meet people. Everything +seems different though, now. I suppose it's because you saved our +lives. I feel as if you weren't exactly a new person, but as +if—I'd known you a long time."</p> +<p>"I have the same sort of feeling about you, for some queer +reason," said I. "Are we also to know each other's names?"</p> +<p>"No," he answered quickly. "That would spoil the charm: for +there is a charm, isn't there? But we won't call each other Brat +and Brute any more. That's ancient history. I'll be for +you—just Boy. I think I will call you Man."</p> +<p>"But you hate Man."</p> +<p>"I don't hate you. If I were a girl I might, but as it is, I +don't. I like you—Man."</p> +<p>"And I like you, Boy. We are pals now. Shall we shake +hands?"</p> +<p>We did. I could have crushed his little brown paw, if I had not +manipulated it carefully.</p> +<p>After that, we did not talk much. By-and-bye, he was tired, and +remounted his donkey, but we still kept side by side, Innocentina +sending at intervals a perfunctory cry of "Fanny-anny," from a +distance, by way of keeping the small brown <i>âne</i> to her +work.</p> +<p>So we reached the beautiful valley of Aosta, as the transparent +azure veil of the Italian dusk was drawn, and out of that dusk +glimmered now and then, as if born of the shadows, strange, +stunted, and misshapen forms, gnome-like creatures, who stood aside +to let us pass along the road. It was as if the Brownie Club were +out for a night excursion; and I remembered my muleteer's lecture +about the <i>crétins</i> of this happy valley. These were +some of them, going back to town from their day's work in the +fields. I had set my mind upon stopping at a hotel of which Joseph +had told me, extolling its situation at a distance from Aosta +<i>ville</i>, the wonderful mountain-pictures its windows framed, +and a certain pastoral primitiveness, not derogatory to comfort, +which I should find in the <i>ménage</i>. But when my late +enemy and new chum remarked that he was going to the Mont Blanc, I +hesitated.</p> +<p>"And you?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Oh, I—well, I had thought—but it doesn't +matter."</p> +<p>"I see what you mean. Would it be disagreeable for you if I were +in the same hotel?"</p> +<p>"On the contrary. But you––"</p> +<p>"I know now that we shall never rub each other up the wrong +way—again. Besides, we shan't have the chance. I suppose you +go on somewhere else to-morrow?"</p> +<p>"No, I want to stop a day or two. Some friends have asked me to +tell them about the sights of the neighbourhood, and what sort of +motoring roads there are near by."</p> +<p>"I'm stopping, too. So, after all, the little sailing boat and +the big bark aren't going to pass each other this night? They are +to anchor in the same harbour for a while."</p> +<p>"And here's the harbour," said I, for we had come down from the +hills into a marvellous old town of ancient towers and arches, with +a background of white mountains. Molly should have been satisfied. +I had obeyed her instructions to the letter, and I was in Aosta at +last.</p> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id= +"CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</p> +<h4>Afternoon Calls</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"If you climb to our castle's +top<br /></span> <span> I don't see where your eyes can +stop."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 11em">—Robert Browning.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>Our hotel had a big loggia, as large as a good-sized room, and +we dined in it, with a gorgeous stage setting. The mountains +floated in mid-sky, pearly pale, and magical under the rising moon. +The little circle of light from our pink-shaded candles on the +table (I say our, because Boy and I dined together) gave to the +picture a bizarre effect, which French artists love to put on +canvas; a blur of gold-and-rose artificial light, blending with the +silver-green radiance of a full moon.</p> +<p>I don't know what we had to eat, except that there were trout +from the river, and luscious strawberries and cream; but I know +that the dinner seemed perfect, and that the head waiter, a +delightful person, brought us champagne, with a long-handled +saucepan wrapped in an immaculate napkin, to do duty as an +ice-pail. I wondered why I had not come long ago to this place, +named in honour of Augustus Cæsar, and why everybody else did +not come. The ex-Brat was in the game frame of mind. We talked of +more things than are dreamed of in philosophy—(other people's +philosophy)—and there was not a book which was a dear friend +of mine that was not a friend of this strange child's.</p> +<p>We sat until the moon was high, and the candles low. I felt +curiously happy and excited, a mood no doubt due in part to the +climate of Aosta, in part to the discovery of a congenial spirit, +where I had least expected to find one.</p> +<p>Last night, we had been, at best, on terms of armed neutrality; +to-night we were friends, and would continue friends, though we +parted to-morrow. But parting was not what we thought of at the +moment. On the contrary, half to our surprise, we found ourselves +planning to see Aosta in each other's company.</p> +<p>After ten o'clock, when, deliciously fatigued, I was on my way +to my room along a great arcaded balcony which ran the length of +the house, I met Joseph, lying in wait for me. My conscience +pricked. I had forgotten to send the poor, tired fellow definite +instructions for the next day. He had come to solicit them, but, if +I could judge by moonlight, he looked far from jaded; indeed, he +had an air of alertness, for him almost of gaiety.</p> +<p>"You and Finois can have a rest to-morrow and the day after," +said I, "while I do some sightseeing. I hear that I shall need one +day at least for the town, and another for a drive to the +châteaux and show-places of the neighbourhood. I hope you +will be able to amuse yourself."</p> +<p>"Monsieur must not think of me. I shall do very well," dutifully +replied Joseph.</p> +<p>"It is a pity that you and Innocentina do not get on. +Otherwise––"</p> +<p>"Ah, perhaps I should tell monsieur that I may have misjudged +the young woman a little. It seems a question of bringing up, more +than real badness of heart. It is her tongue that is in fault; and +I am not even sure that with good influences she might not improve. +I have been talking to her, Monsieur, of religion. She is black +Catholic, and I Protestant, but I think that some of my arguments +made a certain impression upon her mind."</p> +<p>After this, I gave myself no further anxiety about Joseph's +to-morrow, but went to bed, and dreamed of fighting for the Boy's +life, Gulliver-like, against a band of infuriated Brownies.</p> +<p>My first morning thought was to look out of all four windows at +the mountains; my next, to ring for a bath.</p> +<p>Now, as a rule, your morning tub is a function you are not +supposed to describe in detail; but not to picture the ceremony as +performed at Aosta, is to pass by the place without giving the +proper dash of local colour.</p> +<p>I rang. A girl appeared who struck me as singularly beautiful, +but I discovered later that all girls are more or less beautiful at +Aosta. The propriety of this morning visit was insured by the white +cap, which was, so to speak, an adequate chaperon. On my request +for a bath, the beauty looked somewhat agitated, but, after +reflection, said that she would fetch one, and vanished, tripping +lightly along the balcony.</p> +<p>Twenty minutes then passed, and at the end of that time the +young lady returned, almost obliterated by an enormous linen sheet +which engulfed her like an avalanche. She was accompanied by a man +and a boy, staggering under a strange object which resembled a vast +arm-chair, of the grandfather variety. When placed on the floor, I +became aware that it was a kind of cross between a throne and a +bath-tub, and, having seen the huge sheet flung over it, I still +rested in doubt as to the latter's purpose. The man and boy, who +had not stood upon the order of their going, returned after an +embarrassing absence, with pails of water, the contents of which, +to my surprise, they flung upon the sheet.</p> +<p>I tried to explain that, if this were a bath, I preferred it +without the family linen, but the <i>femme de chambre</i> seemed so +shocked at these protestations, that I ceased uttering them, and +determined to make the best of things as they stood.</p> +<p>When I was again alone, after several rehearsals I found a way +of accommodating the human form to the hybrid receptacle, and was +amazed at its luxuriousness. The secret of this lay in the sheet, +which was fragrant of lavender, and protected the body from contact +with a cold, base metal which hundreds of other bodies must have +touched before.</p> +<p>"'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands," might +be said of a hotel bath-tub as well as of a stolen purse; and +having once known the linen-lined bath of Aosta, I was promptly +spoiled for common, un-lined tubs. This was a lesson not to form +hasty opinions; but being a normal man, I shall no doubt continue +to do so until the day of my death.</p> +<p>The Boy and I broke our fast together on the loggia, which was +even more entertaining as a <i>salle-à-manger</i> by morning +than by night. The coffee was exquisite; the hot, foaming milk had +but lately been drawn from its original source, a little +biscuit-coloured Alderney with the pleading eyes of that fair nymph +stricken to heiferhood by jealous Juno. The strawberries and figs +came to the table from the hotel garden, and so did the luscious +roses, which filled a bowl in the centre of our small white +table.</p> +<p>This was Arcadia. The very simplicities of the hotel endeared it +to our hearts, and there was no real comfort lacking which we could +have obtained in London or in Paris.</p> +<p>After breakfast we set off with our cameras to the town, a walk +of ten or fifteen minutes. It was strange, in this pilgrimage of +mine, how often I found myself running back into the Feudal or +Middle Ages, as far removed from the familiar bustle of modern days +as if an iron door had been shut and padlocked behind me.</p> +<p>There was little of the Twentieth Century in Aosta (named by +Augustus the "Rome of the Alps"), except the monument to "Le Roi +Chasseur," and the bookshops, which seemed extraordinarily well +supplied with the best literature of all countries. The type of +face we met was primitive; scarcely one which would have been out +of place on some old Roman coin. Here, at the end of a narrow, +shadowed street, where St. Anselm first saw the light (it must have +been with difficulty) we came upon a magnificent archway, built to +do honour to Augustus Cæsar's defeat of the brave Salasses, +four and twenty years before the world had a Saviour. A few steps +further on, and we were under the majestic mass of the Porta +Pretoria; or we were crossing a Roman bridge, or gazing at the +ruins of Roman ramparts. Or, we lost our way in searching for the +amphitheatre, and found ourselves suddenly skipping over centuries +into the Middle Ages, represented by the mysterious Tour Bramafam, +the Tour des Prisons, or the Tour du Lepreux, round which Xavier +Maistre wrote his pathetic dialogue. Then, there was the cathedral +with its extraordinary painted façade, like a great coloured +picture-book; and the tall cross, straddling a spring in a paved +street, put up in thanksgiving by the Aostans when they joyfully +saw Calvin's back for the last time.</p> +<p>We spent all day in sightseeing, and had another moonlight +evening on the loggia. We were great pals now, Boy and I. I had +never met anyone in the least like him. At one moment he was a +human boy, almost a child; at another his brain leaped beyond mine, +and he became a poet or a philosopher; again he was an elfin +sprite, a creature for whom Puck was the one thinkable name. There +was a single thing only, about which you could always be sure. He +would never be twice the same.</p> +<p>Still, though we were friends, "Boy" and "Man" we remained. He +kept his name a secret, and he had forbidden me to mention mine. +Nor had he spoken of his route or destination, after Aosta. As to +this I was curious, for I knew now that it would be a wrench to +part with the strange little being whose ears I had tingled to box +three days (or was it three years?) ago. Already he had done me +good; and though I had hardly reached the point of confessing as +much to myself, as a plain matter of fact I would not have +exchanged his quaint companionship for that of my lost love. How +she would have hated this idyllic Arcadia! How <i>triste</i> she +would have been; how weary after a day's tour among relics of past +ages; and how much she would have preferred Bond Street to the Arch +of Augustus, or the park to our snow mountains and green valley! +Even Davos she would have found intolerable had it not been for the +tobogganing, the dances and the theatricals, in all of which she +had played a leading part. Deep down in the darkest corner of my +soul, I now knew that I would not have fallen in love with Helen +Blantock had I first met her in Aosta.</p> +<p>The Boy and I agreed that our head waiter was one of the nicest +men we had ever met, and when he pledged his personal honour that a +day's wandering among neighbouring castles would be "very +repaying," we determined to bolt the five he most recommended in +one gulp, on our second and last afternoon. If he could, he would +have sent us spinning like teetotums from one concentric ring of +historic châteaux to another, until goodness knows how far +from Aosta, Finois, Souris, and Fanny-anny, we should have ended. +He would also have despatched us on a two or three days' excursion +to Courmayeur; and I fear that his respect for us went down like +mercury in a chilled thermometer, when he understood that we had +not come to the country to do any of the famous climbs. He named so +many, dear to the hearts of my Alpine Club acquaintances, that it +would have taken us well into the new year to accomplish half; and +he accepted with mild, disapproving resignation our fiat that there +were other parts of the world worth seeing.</p> +<p>As we had to cover a radius of many miles, in our rounds of +visits at the few sample châteaux we had selected from the +waiter's list, we decided to spare our legs and those of the +animals. It was hardly playing the game we had set out to +play—we two strangely-met friends—to amble +conventionally from show-house to show-house, in a carriage, with +guide-books in our hands, like everyday tourists; nevertheless, we +did this unworthy thing. Perhaps, therefore, I deserved the +punishment which fell upon me.</p> +<p>Little did I dream, when I flippantly spoke of our expedition as +"driving out to pay calls," how nearly my thoughtless words were to +be realised. We started immediately after an early +<i>déjeuner</i>, sitting side by side in a little low-swung +carriage, a superior phaeton, or poor relation of a victoria. The +day was hot, but a delicious breeze came to us from the snow +mountains, and there was a peculiar buoyancy in the air.</p> +<p>Our first castle was Sarre, the Château Royal, an enormous +brown building with a disproportionately high tower. This +hunting-lodge of the King would have been grimly ugly, were it not +for its rocky throne, high above the river bed, and its background +of glistening white mountains. The huge pile looked like a sleeping +dragon with its hundreds of window-eyes close-lidded, and I could +not imagine it an amusing place for a house party. I was glad that +the Boy was not animated with that wild mania for squeezing the +last drop from the orange of sightseeing which makes some +travelling companions so depressing. The castle was closed to +visitors, yet many people would have insisted on climbing the steep +hill for the barren satisfaction of saying that they had been +there. I rejoiced that my little Pal was not one of these; but I +should have been more prudent had I waited.</p> +<p>We drove on, after a pause for inspection, along a road which +would have rejoiced the motor-loving heart of Jack Winston, and I +made a note to tell him what a magnificent tour he might have in +this enchanted country one day with his car, tooling down from +Milan. As I mentally arranged my next letter to the Winstons, the +Boy gave a little cry of delight. "Oh, what a queer, delightful +place! It's all towers, just held together by a thread of castle. +It must be Aymaville."</p> +<p>I looked up and beheld on a high hill an extraordinary +château, something like four chess castles grouped together +at the corners of a square heap of dice. It does not sound an +attractive description, yet the place deserved that adjective. It +was charming, and wonderfully "liveable," among its vineyards, +commanding such a view as is given to few show-places in the +world.</p> +<p>"The descendants of the original family have restored it, and +live there, don't they?" asked the Boy in Italian of the +<i>cocher</i>.</p> +<p>The man answered that this was the case, and was inspired by my +evil genius to enquire if <i>ces messieurs</i> would like to go +over the château.</p> +<p>"Is it allowed?" the Boy questioned eagerly.</p> +<p>"But certainly. Shall I drive up to the house? It will be only +an all little ten minutes."</p> +<p>Without waiting for my answer, the Boy took my consent for +granted, and said yes.</p> +<p>Instantly we left the broad white road, and began winding up a +narrow, steep, and stony way, among vineyards. The <i>cocher's</i> +all little ten minutes lengthened into half an hour, but at last we +halted before a garden gate—a high, uncompromising, +reserved-looking gate.</p> +<p>"The fellow must be mistaken," said I. "This place has not the +air of encouraging visitors;" but, before the words were out of my +mouth, the enterprising <i>cocher</i> had rung the gate bell.</p> +<p>After an interval a gardener appeared, and betrayed such mild, +ingenuous surprise at sight of us that I wished ourselves anywhere +else than before the portals of the Château d'Aymaville. +Gladly would I have whipped up our fat, barrel-shaped nag, and +driven into the nearest rabbit-hole, but it was too late. The +gardener took the enquiry as to whether visitors were admitted, +with the gravity he would have given to a question in the +catechism: Is your name N. or M.? Can one see your master's +house?</p> +<p>Oh, without doubt, one could see the house. Would <i>les +messieurs</i> kindly accompany him? His aspect wept, and mine +(unless it belied me) copied his. "Isn't it hateful?" I asked, +<i>sotto voce</i>, of the Boy, expecting sympathy which I did not +get. "No, I think it's great fun," said he.</p> +<p>"But I'm sure they are not in the habit of showing the house. +You can tell by the man's manner. He's nonplussed. I should think +no one has ever had the cheek to apply for permission before."</p> +<p>"Then they ought to be complimented because we have."</p> +<p>I was silenced, though far from convinced; but if you have made +an engagement with an executioner, it is a point of honour not to +sneak off and leave him in the lurch, when he has taken the trouble +to sharpen his axe, and put on his red suit and mask for your +benefit.</p> +<p>We arrived, after a walk through a pretty garden, upon a terrace +where there was a marvellous view. The gardener showed it to us +solemnly, we pacing after him all round the château, as if we +played a game. At the open front door we were left alone for a few +minutes, heavy with suspense, while our guide held secret conclave +with a personable woman who was no doubt a housekeeper. Astonished, +but civil, with dignified Italian courtesy she finally invited us +in, and I was coward enough to let the Boy lead, I following with a +casual air, meant to show that I had been dragged into this +business against my will; that I was, in fact, the tail of a comet +which must go where the cornet leads.</p> +<p>Everywhere, inside the castle, were traces that the family had +fled with precipitation. Here was a bicycle leaning abject against +a wall; there, an open book thrown on the floor; here, a fallen +chair; there, a dropped piece of sewing.</p> +<p>Once or twice in England, I had stayed in a famous show-house, +and my experience on the public Thursdays there had taught me what +these people were enduring now. At Waldron Castle we had been +hunted from pillar to post; if we darted from the hall into a +drawing-room, the public would file in before we could escape to +the boudoir; the lives of foxes in the hunting season could have +been little less disturbed than ours, and we were practically only +safe in our own or each other's bedrooms—indeed, any port was +precious in a storm.</p> +<p>By the time that the Boy and I had been led, like stalled oxen, +through a long series of living-rooms, I knowing that the rightful +inhabitants were panting in wardrobes, my nerves were shattered. I +admired everything, volubly but hastily, and broke into fireworks +of adjectives, always edging a little nearer to the exit, though +not, I regret to say, invariably aided by the Boy. He, indeed, +seemed to find an impish pleasure in my discomfiture.</p> +<p>During the round, I was dimly conscious that the entire staff of +servants, most of them maids, and embarrassingly beautiful, flitted +after us like the ghosts who accompanied Dante and his guide on +their tour of the Seven Circles. As, at last, we returned to the +square entrance hail, they melted out of sight, still like shadows, +and I had a final moment of extreme anguish when, at the door, the +housekeeper refused the ten francs I attempted to press into her +haughty Italian palm.</p> +<p>"No more afternoon calls on châteaux for me, after +<i>that</i> experience," I gasped, when we were safely seated in +the homelike vehicle which I had not sufficiently appreciated +before.</p> +<p>"Oh, I shall be disappointed if you won't go with me to the +Château of St. Pierre which we saw in the +photograph—that quaint mass of towers and pinnacles, on the +very top of a peaked rock," said the Boy. "I've been looking +forward to it more than to anything else, but I shan't have courage +to do it alone."</p> +<p>"Courage?" I echoed. "After the brazen way in which you stalked +through the scattered belongings of the family at Aymaville, you +would stop at nothing."</p> +<p>"In other words, I suppose you think me a typical Yankee boy? +But I really was nervous, and inclined to apologise to somebody for +being alive. That's why I can't go through another such ordeal +without company; yet I wouldn't miss this eleventh-century castle +for a bag of your English sovereigns."</p> +<p>"If only it had been left alone, and not restored!" I groaned. +"In that case we should meet no one but bats."</p> +<p>"We? Then you will go with me?"</p> +<p>"I suppose so," I sighed. "It can't add more than a dozen grey +hairs, and what are they among so many?"</p> +<p>A few kilometres further on we reached the "bizarre monticule," +from which sprouted a still more bizarre château. From our +low level, it was impossible to tell where the rock stopped, and +where the castle began, so deftly had man seized every point of +vantage offered by Nature—and "points" they literally +were.</p> +<p>The ascent from the road to the château was much like +climbing a fire-escape to the top of a New York sky-scraper, but we +earned the right to cry "Excelsior!" at last, had we not by that +moment been speechless. History now repeated itself. I rang; the +castle gate was opened, but this time by a major-domo who had +already in some marvellous way learned that strangers might be +expected.</p> +<p>Never was so appallingly hospitable a man, and I trusted that +even the Boy suffered from his kindness. Madame la Baronne, who was +away for the afternoon, would chide him if guests were allowed to +leave her house without refreshment. Eat we must, and drink we +must, in the beautiful hall evidently used as a sitting-room by the +absent châtelaine. Her wine and her cakes were served on an +ancient silver tray, almost as old as the family traditions, and it +was not until we had done to both such justice as the major-domo +thought fair that he would consent to let us go further.</p> +<p>The house was really of superlative interest, though spoiled +here and there by eccentric modern decoration. Much of the window +glass had remained intact through centuries; the walls were twelve +feet thick; the oak-beamed ceilings magnificent, and the secret +stairways and rooms in the thickness of the walls, bewildering; but +when our conductor began leading us into the bedrooms in daily use +by the ladies of the castle, my gorge rose. "This is awful," I +said. "I can't go on. What if Madame la Baronne returns and finds a +strange man and a boy in her bedroom? Good heavens, now he's +opening the door of the bath!"</p> +<p>"We must go on," whispered the Boy, convulsed with silent +laughter. "If we don't, the major-domo won't understand our +scruples. He'll think we're tired, and don't appreciate the castle. +It would never do to hurt his feelings, when he has been so +kind."</p> +<p>"To the bitter end, then," I answered desperately; and no sooner +were the words out of my mouth than the bitter end came. It +consisted of a collision with the Baronne's dressing-jacket, which +hung from a hook, and tapped me on the shoulder with one empty +frilled sleeve, in soft admonition. I could bear no more. One must +draw the line somewhere, and I drew the line at intruding upon +ladies' dressing-jackets in their most sacred fastnesses.</p> +<p>If I had been a woman, my pent-up emotion at this moment would +have culminated in hysterics, but being a man, I merely bolted, +stumbling, as I fled, over my absent hostess' bedroom slippers. I +scuttled down a winding flight of tower stairs, broke incontinently +into a lighted region which turned out to be a kitchen, startled +the cook, apologised incontinently, and somehow found myself, like +Alice in Wonderland, back in the great entrance hail. There, +starting at every sound, lest a returning family party should catch +me "lurking," I awaited the Boy.</p> +<p>We left, finally, showering francs and compliments; but I +crawled out a decrepid wreck, and refused pitilessly to do more +than view the exterior of other châteaux. It was evening when +we saw our white hotel once more, and a haze of starlight dusted +the sky and all the blue distance with silver powder.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 361px;"><img src= +"images/186.gif" width="361" height="500" alt="illustration" title= +"illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id= +"CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</p> +<h4>The Path of the Moon</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"And then they came to the turnstile of +night."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 15em">—Rudyard Kipling.<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>This was to be our last night at Aosta, perhaps our last night +together, for the Boy's plans kept his name company in some secret +"hidie hole" of his mind. As, for the third time, we dined on the +loggia, before the rising of the moon, we drifted into talk of +intimate things. It was I who began it. I harked back to the broken +conversation which had first made us friends, and to his chance +sketch of Helen Blantock and her type. In that connection, I +ventured to bring up the subject of his sister.</p> +<p>"What you said about her disillusionment interested me very +much," I told him. "You see, I've just come through an experience +something like it myself, do you mind talking about her?"</p> +<p>"Not in this place—and this mood—and to you," he +answered. "But first—what disillusioned you?"</p> +<p>"Disappointment in someone I cared for,—and believed +in."</p> +<p>"It was the same with—my sister."</p> +<p>"Poor Princess."</p> +<p>"Yes, poor Princess. Was it—a man friend who disappointed +you?"</p> +<p>"A woman. The old story. As a matter of fact, she threw me over +because another fellow had a lot more money than I."</p> +<p>"Horrid creature."</p> +<p>"Oh, just an ordinary, conventional, well brought up girl. Now +you see I have as much right to a grudge against women, as your +sister the Princess has against men."</p> +<p>"But I don't believe the girl <i>could</i> have been as cruel to +you, as this man I'm thinking of was to—her. They'd known +each other for years, since childhood. He used to call her his +'little sweetheart' when she was ten and he was fifteen. How was +she to dream that even when he was a boy, he didn't really like her +better than other little girls, that already he was making +calculations about her money? She thought he was different from the +others, that <i>he</i> cared for herself. They were engaged, the +bridesmaids asked, the trousseau ready, the invitations out for the +wedding, and then—one night she overheard a conversation +between him and a cousin of his, who was to be one of her +bridesmaids. Only a few words—but they told everything. It +was the other girl he loved, and had always loved. But he was poor, +and so—well, you can guess the rest. My sister broke off her +engagement the next day, though the man went on his knees to her, +and vowed he had been mad. Then she left home at once, and soon she +was taken very ill."</p> +<p>"She loved that worthless scoundrel so much?"</p> +<p>"I don't know. I don't think she knows. It was the destruction +of an ideal which was terrible. She had clung to it. She had said +to herself: 'Many men may be false, and mercenary, and +unscrupulous, but this one is true.' Suddenly, he had ceased to +exist for her. She stood alone in the world—in the dark."</p> +<p>"Except for you."</p> +<p>"Except for me, and a few friends,—one girl especially, +who was heavenly to her. But the dearest girl friend can't make up +for the loss of trust in a lover."</p> +<p>"That's true. By Jove, I thought I had been roughly used, but +it's nothing to this. I feel as if I knew your sister, somehow. I +wonder, since you and she are such pals, that you can bear to leave +her."</p> +<p>"She wanted to be alone. She said she didn't feel at home in +life any more, and it made her restless to be with anyone who knew +her trouble, anyone who pitied her. I was ill too,—from +sympathy, I suppose, and—she thought a tramp like this would +do me good. So it has. Being close to nature, especially among +mountains, as I've been for weeks now, makes one's troubles and +even one's sister's troubles seem small."</p> +<p>"You are young to feel that."</p> +<p>"My soul isn't as young as my body. Maybe that's why nature is +so much to me. I am more alive when I'm away from big towns. +Sunrises and sunsets are more important than the rising and falling +of money markets. They—and the wind in the trees. What things +they say to you! You can't explain; you can only feel. And when you +<i>have</i> felt, when you have heard colour, and seen sounds, you +are never quite the same, quite as sad, again,—I mean if you +<i>have</i> been sad."</p> +<p>"I've said all that—precisely that—to myself +lately," I exclaimed, forgetting that I was a man talking to a +child. The strange little person whom I had apostrophised as "Brat" +seemed not only an equal, but a superior. I found myself intensely +interested in him, and all that concerned him. "Odd, that you, too, +should have thought that thing about colour and sound! This +evening-blue, for instance. Do you hear the music of it?"</p> +<p>"Yes. I'm not sure it isn't that which has made me answer your +questions. But now let's talk of something else—or better +still, let's not talk at all, for a while."</p> +<p>We were silent, and I wondered if the Boy's thoughts ran with +mine, or if he had closed and locked the secret door in his brain, +and listened dreamily to the sweet evening voices of this Valley of +Musical Bells.</p> +<p>Suddenly, into the many sounds of the silence, broke a loud and +jarring note; the trampling of men's feet and horses' hoofs; loud +laughter and the jingling of accoutrements. We looked over the +balustrade to see a battalion of soldiers marching at ease, on +their way back from some mountain manœuvres, and as we gazed +down, they stared up, a young fellow shouting to the Boy that he +had better join them.</p> +<p>"It's like life calling one back," said the strange child. "I +suppose one must always go on, somewhere else. And we—we must +go on, though it is sweet here."</p> +<p>"It was what I was thinking of just now," I answered. "Are we to +part company?"</p> +<p>The Boy laughed—an odd little laugh. "Why, that depends," +said he abruptly, "on where you are going. I've planned to walk +back over the St. Bernard to Martigny, and so by way of the +Tête Noire to Chamounix. That name—Chamounix—has +always been to my ears, as Stevenson says, 'like the horns of +elf-land, or crimson lake.' I want to come face to face with Mont +Blanc, of which I've only seen a far-off mirage, long ago when I +was a little chap, at Geneva. What are your plans?"</p> +<p>"If I ever had any, I've forgotten them," said I. "Look here, +Little Pal, shall we join forces as far as—as far +as––"</p> +<p>"The turnstile," he finished my broken sentence.</p> +<p>"Where is the turnstile?"</p> +<p>"At the place—whatever it may be—where we get tired +of each other. Isn't that what you meant?"</p> +<p>"According to my present views, that place might be at the other +end of the world. You must remember it was never I who tried to get +away from you. At the Cantine de Proz, I––"</p> +<p>"Don't let's remember to that time. Then, I didn't know that you +were—You. That makes all the difference. You looked as if you +might be nice, but I've learned not to trust first impressions, +especially of men—grown-up men. There are such lots of people +one drifts across, who are not <i>real</i> people at all, but just +shells, with little rattling nuts of dull, imitation ideas inside, +taken from newspapers, or borrowed from their friends. Fancy what +it would be to see glorious places with such a companion! It would +drive me mad. I determined not to make aquaintances on this trip; +but you—why, I feel now as if it would be almost insulting +you to call you 'an acquaintance.' We are—oh, I'll take your +word! We're 'pals,' and Something big that's over all meant us to +be pals. I don't mind telling you, Man, that I should miss you, if +we parted now."</p> +<p>"We won't part," I said quickly. "We'll jog along together. Have +a cigarette? I'm going to smoke a pipe, because I feel +contented."</p> +<p>Between puffs of that pipe (an instrument which I strongly but +vainly recommended to the Boy) I told him of my night drive over +the St. Gothard. As it was his whim to consider names of no +importance, I did not mention that of Jack and Molly Winston, but +spoke of them merely as "my friends."</p> +<p>"Could we do the St. Bernard at night?" he asked eagerly.</p> +<p>"Yes, we could, if we saved ourselves by driving up from here to +St. Rhémy, after déjeuner, otherwise it would mean +being on foot all day and all night too. We could send Joseph, +Innocentina, and the animals on very early to-morrow morning, to +the Hospice, where they might rest till evening. The good monks +would give us a meal of some sort about six, and at seven we could +leave the Hospice. There would be an interval of starry darkness, +and then we should have the full moon."</p> +<p>"Splendid to see the Pass by moonlight, after knowing it by day, +and sunset, and dawn! It would be like finding out wonderful new +qualities in your friends, which you'd never guessed they had."</p> +<p>Thus the Boy; and a few moments later the details of our journey +were arranged. Joseph and Innocentina were interrupted in the midst +of ardent attempts to convert one another, to be told what was in +store for them. They did not appear averse to the arrangement, for +a slight pout of the young woman's hardly counted; there was no +doubt that a journey <i>á deux</i> would offer infinite +opportunities for religious disputation.</p> +<p>As for the Little Pal and me, we carried out the first part of +our programme to the letter. Two barrel-shaped nags instead of one +took us to St. Rhémy, the little mountain village whose men +are exempt from conscription, and called, poetically yet literally, +"Soldiers of the Snow." Further up the jewelled way, our little +victoria could not venture, and we trod the steep path side by +side, the Boy stepping out bravely, the top of his panama on a +level with my ear.</p> +<p>Some magnetic cord of communication between his brain and mine +telegraphed back and forth, without personal intervention on either +part, my keen enjoyment of the scene, and his. We did not talk +much, but each knew what the other was feeling. Most people +disappoint you by their lack of capacity to enjoy nature, in +moments which are superlative to you—moments which alone +would repay you for the whole trouble of living through blank +years. But this boy's spirit responded to beauty, up to an extreme +point which was highly satisfactory. I saw it in the exaltation on +his little sunburned face.</p> +<p>Joseph and Innocentina were ostentatiously delighted to greet us +at the Hospice. They and the animals had had their evening meal, +and were ready to start when we wished. We went to the refectory +and dined in company with many persons of many nationalities, who +had just arrived from the Swiss and Italian valleys. Some of them +manipulated their food strangely, as I had noticed here before; and +Boy confided to me his opinion that it was a pity human beings were +still obliged to eat with their mouths, like the lower animals. +"It's a disgrace to one's face, which ought to be exclusively for +better things. It's really too primitive, this penny-in-the-slot +sort of arrangement. There ought to be a tiny trap-door in one's +chest somewhere, so that one could just slip food in unobtrusively, +at a meal, and go on talking and laughing as if nothing had +happened."</p> +<p>We were not long in dining, but by the time we came out again +into the biting cold, late afternoon had changed to early +evening.</p> +<p>It was sunset. The great mountain shapes of glittering, red gold +were clear as the profiles of goddesses, against a sky of rose. +One—the grandest goddess of all—wore on her proud head +a crown of snow which sparkled with diamond coruscations, +rainbow-tinted in the pink light. Below her golden forehead hovered +a thin cloud-veil, of pale lilac; and we had gone a long way down +the mountain before the ineffable colour burned to ashes-of-rose. +Then darkness caught and engulfed us, in the Valley of Death. The +rushing of the river in its ravine was like the voice of night, not +a separate sound at all, for hearing it was to hear the +silence.</p> +<p>By-and-bye we grew conscious of a faint, gradual revealing of +the mountain-tops, which for a time had been black, jagged pieces +cut out from the spangled fabric of a starry sky. A ripple of +pearly light wavered over them, like the reflection of the unseen +river mirrored for the Lady of Shalott.</p> +<p>It was a strange, living light, beating with a visible pulse, +and it slowly grew until its white radiance had extinguished the +individual lamps of the stars. Waterfalls flashed out of darkness, +like white, laughing nymphs flinging off black masks and dominoes; +silver goblets and diamond necklaces were flung into the river bed, +and vanished forever with a mystic gleam.</p> +<p>"If there's a heaven, can there be anything in it better than +this, Little Pal?" I asked.</p> +<p>"There can be God," he said. "I'm a pagan sometimes in the sun, +but never on a night like this. Then one <i>knows</i> things one +isn't sure of at other times. Why, I suppose there isn't really a +world at all! God is simply thinking of these things, and of us, so +we and they seem to be. We are his thoughts; the mountains, and the +river, and the wild-flowers are his thoughts. It's just as if an +author writes a story. In the story, all the people and the things +which concern them are real, but you close the volume and they +simply don't exist. Only God doesn't close the volume, I think, +until the next is ready."</p> +<p>"I wonder whether we'll both come into the next story?"</p> +<p>"Who knows? Perhaps you'll wander into one story, and I'll get +lost in another."</p> +<p>A certain sadness fell upon me, born partly of our talk, partly +of the poignant beauty of the night. We came to the Cantine de +Proz, fast asleep in its lonely valley, and so we went on and on, +our souls tuned to music and poetry by the song of the stars and +the beauty of the night: But slowly a change stole over us. For a +long time I was only dimly conscious of it, in a puzzled way, in +myself. Why was it that my spirit stood no longer on the heights? +Why did the moonlight look cold and metallic? Why had the rushing +sound of the river got on my nerves, like the monotonous crying of +a fretful child? Why did our frequent silences no longer tingle +with a meaning which there was no need to express in words? Why was +my brain empty of impressions as a squeezed sponge of water? Why, +in fact, though everything was outwardly the same, why was all in +reality different?</p> +<p>"Oh, Man, I'm so hungry!" sighed Boy.</p> +<p>"By Jove, that's what's been the matter with me this last +half-hour, and I didn't know it!" said I.</p> +<p>"I feel as if I could form a hollow square, all by myself."</p> +<p>"I only wish there were something to form it round."</p> +<p>"But there isn't—except a few chocolate creams I bought in +Aosta because I respected their old age, poor things."</p> +<p>"Perhaps even decrepid chocolates are better than nothing. Let's +give 'em honourable burial—unless you want them all to +yourself, as you did the chicken at the 'Déjeûner,' +and the room at the Cantine de Proz."</p> +<p>"Oh, you <i>must</i> have thought I was selfish! But truly, I +don't think I am. It wasn't that. Only—I can't explain."</p> +<p>"You needn't," said I. "I was 'kidding'—a most appropriate +treatment for a man of your size. What I want is food, not +explanations."</p> +<p>The chocolates, which proved to be eighteen in number, were +fairly divided, Boy refusing to accept more than his half. We each +ate one with distaste, because the celebrated "Right Spot" was not +to be pacified by unsuitable sacrifices; but presently it relented +and demanded more. Appeased for the moment, the Spot allowed us to +proceed, but incredibly soon it began again to clamour. We ate +several more chocolates, though our gorge rose against them as a +means of refreshment. Still Bourg St. Pierre, where we were sooner +or later to sleep, was far away, and for the third time we were +driven to chocolate. It was a loathsome business eating the +remaining morsels of our supply, and we felt that the very name of +the food would in future be abhorrent to us. The night had become +unfriendly, the Pass a <i>Via Dolorosa</i>, and the last drop was +poured into our cup of misery at Bourg St. Pierre.</p> +<p>We had wired from the Hospice for rooms, and expected to find +the little "Déjeûner" cheerfully lighted, the plump +landlady amusingly surprised to see the guests who had lately +brought dissension into her house returning peaceably together. But +the roadside inn was asleep like a comfortable white goose with its +head under its wing. Not a gleam in any window, save the bleak +glint of moonlight on glass.</p> +<p>Joseph and Innocentina were behind us with their charges, whose +stored crusts of bread they had probably shared. I knocked at the +doors No responsive sound from within. I pounded with my walking +stick. A thin imp of echo mocked us, and, my worst passions roused +by this inhospitality falling on top of nine chocolate creams, I +almost beat the door down.</p> +<p>Two sleepy eyelid-windows flew up, and a moment later a little +servant who had served me the other afternoon, appeared at the door +like a frightened rabbit at bay.</p> +<p>I demanded the wherefore of this reception; I demanded rooms and +food and reparation. What, was I the monsieur who had telegraphed +from the Hospice? But madame had answered that she had not a room +in the house. The carriage of a large party of very high nobility +had broken down late in the afternoon, and they were remaining for +the night, until the damage could be repaired. What to do? But +there was nothing, unless <i>les messieurs</i> would sleep, one on +the sofa, the other on the floor, in the room of the +"déjeûner."</p> +<p>"I suppose we'll have to put up with that accommodation, then. +What do you say, Boy?" I asked.</p> +<p>"I would rather go on," he replied, in a tone of misery tempered +by desperate resignation, as if he had been giving orders for his +own funeral.</p> +<p>"Go on where?" I enquired grimly.</p> +<p>"I don't know. Anywhere."</p> +<p>"'Anywhere' means in this instance the open road."</p> +<p>"Well—I'm not so <i>very</i> cold, are you? And I'm sure +they'll give us a little bread and cheese here."</p> +<p>"I think it would be wiser to stop," said I. "We might see the +ghost of Napoleon eating the <i>déjeuner</i>. Isn't that an +inducement?"</p> +<p>"Not enough."</p> +<p>"I assure you that I don't snore or howl in my sleep. And you +could have the sofa to curl up on."</p> +<p>"Ye-es; but I'd rather go on. You and Joseph can stop. +Innocentina and I will be all right."</p> +<p>I was annoyed with the child. I felt that he fully deserved to +be taken at his word, and deserted on the Pass, but I had not the +heart to punish him. If anything should happen to the poor Babe in +the Wood, I should never forgive myself; and besides, it would have +been hopeless to seek sleep, with visions of disaster to this +strange Little Pal of mine painting my brain red.</p> +<p>"Of course I won't do anything of the kind," I said crossly. "If +one party goes on, both will go on." I then snappishly ordered food +of some sort, any sort—except chocolate,—and having, +after a blank interval, obtained enough bread, cheese, and ham for +at least ten persons, I divided the rations with Joseph and +Innocentina, who had now come up.</p> +<p>We had a short halt for rest and refreshment, taken +simultaneously, and presently set out again, with a vague idea of +plodding on as far as Orsières. The Boy refused so +obstinately to ride his donkey (I believe because I must go on +foot), that Innocentina, thwarted, did frightful execution among +her favourite saints. Joseph reproved her; she retorted by calling +him a black heretic, and vowing that she had a right to talk as she +pleased to her own saints; it was not his affair. Thus it was that +our chastened cavalcade left the "Déjeûner."</p> +<p>After this, our journey was punctuated by frequent pauses. The +donkeys were tired; everybody was cross; the calm indifference of +the glorious night was as irritating as must have been the "icily +regular, splendidly null" perfection of Maud herself.</p> +<p>Only the Boy kept up any pretence of spirits, and I knew well +that his counterfeited buoyancy was merely to distract attention +from guilt. If it had not been for him, we should all have been +tucked away in some corner or other of the "Déjeûner." +No doubt he would have dropped, had he not feared an "I told you +so."</p> +<p>We were still some miles on the wrong side of Orsières, +when Innocentina came running up from behind, exclaiming that a +dreadful thing, an appalling thing, had happened. No, no, not an +accident to Joseph Marcoz. A trouble far worse than that. Nothing +to the <i>mulet ou les ânes</i>. Ah, but how could she break +the news? It was that in some way—some mad, magical way only +to be accounted for by the intervention of evil spirits, probably +attracted by the heretic presence of Joseph—the +<i>rücksack</i> containing the fitted bag had disappeared. If +she were to be killed for it, she—Innocentina—could not +tell how this great calamity had occurred.</p> +<p>I thought that after such an alarming preface, the Boy would +laugh when the mountain had brought forth its mouse, but he did no +such thing. His little face looked anxious and forlorn in the white +moonlight. And all for a mere bag, which was an absurd article of +luggage, at best, for an excursion such as his!</p> +<p>"I <i>can't</i> lose it," he said. "There are things in it which +I wouldn't have anyone's—which I couldn't replace."</p> +<p>"Your sister the Princess will buy you another," I tried to +console him.</p> +<p>"This is her bag. She would feel dreadfully if it were gone. +Besides, my diary-notes for the book I want to write are in it. I +would give a thousand dollars to get it again—or more. I +shall have to go back."</p> +<p>"No, you won't," I said. "As to that, I shall put my foot down. +If anyone goes––"</p> +<p>"Nobody shall go but myself. I won't have it. +I––"</p> +<p>"And I won't have you go, if I'm forced to snatch you up and put +you in my pocket. When I get you safely to Orsières, I don't +mind a bit––"</p> +<p>"No, no, you needn't say it. If we must go on to +Orsières, I'll pay someone to come back from there, and +search."</p> +<p>"Why shouldn't I be the one? I'm not tired, only rather cross, +and for all you know, I may be in urgent need of the reward you +mean to offer."</p> +<p>"You must be satisfied with your virtue. I've my own reasons, +and—and I suppose I'm my own master?"</p> +<p>"By Jove!" I exclaimed, laughing. "Eton would have done you a +lot of good. You would have had some of your girly whims knocked +out of you there, my kid."</p> +<p>"I wonder if that <i>would</i> have done me good?"</p> +<p>"It isn't too late to try. You haven't passed the age."</p> +<p>"I dare say travelling about with you will have much the same +effect," said the Boy, suddenly become an imp again. "I think I'll +just 'sample' that experiment first. But I <i>do</i> want my +bag."</p> +<p>"Dash your bag! I'll lend you some night things out of the +mule-pack. The lost treasure is sure to turn up again, like all bad +pennies, to-morrow."</p> +<p>We reached Orsières and roused the people of the inn with +comparative ease. They could give us accommodation, but the man of +the house looked dubious when he heard that a runner must at once +be found to search for a travelling bag, lost nobody knew +where.</p> +<p>"To-morrow morning, when it is light––" he began; +but Boy cut him short. "To-morrow morning may be too late. I will +give five thousand francs to whoever finds my bag, and brings it +back with everything in it undisturbed."</p> +<p>The man opened his eyes wide, and I formed my lips into a silent +whistle. I thought the Boy exceedingly foolish to name such a +reward, when the bag and its gold fittings could not have been +worth more than a hundred pounds, and an offer of three hundred +francs would have been ample. What could the strange little person +have in his precious bag, which he valued as the immediate jewel of +his soul? and why would he not let me be the one to find it, thus +keeping his five thousand francs in his pocket! He "had his +reasons," forsooth! However, it was not my business.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a name="i202" id= +"i202"><img src="images/202.gif" width="700" height="488" alt= +""LOOKING OUT OF THE WINDOW I SAW HIM IN CONVERSATION"." +title= +""LOOKING OUT OF THE WINDOW I SAW HIM IN CONVERSATION"." /> +</a></div> +<p>It must have been after three o'clock by the time I fell asleep +in a queer little room where you had but to sit up in bed and +stretch out your arm to reach anything you wanted. I dreamed of +journeying through the night with the Boy, but I forgot his lost +bag: nor when I waked in full morning light, did I recall its +tragic disappearance. I found that it was nearly eight, and bounded +out of bed, performing my toilet with maimed rites, since baths +were not <i>comme il faut</i> at Orsières.</p> +<p>"The kid will be asleep still, I'll bet," I said to myself; but +looking out of the window at that moment, I saw him in conversation +with Joseph, Innocentina, and—apparently—half the +inhabitants of the village.</p> +<p>I hurried down, and learned that the bag—still a lost +bag—had set all Orsières on fire with excitement. The +searchers had returned empty-handed, having gone back as far as the +Cantine de Proz; and on the oath of Innocentina (more than one, +alas!), the <i>rücksack</i> and its contents had been secure +on the grey back of Souris when we passed the Cantine. Desolate as +was the Great St. Bernard at night, late as had been the hour when +the bag vanished, evidently someone had found and gone off with it. +Nevertheless, many young persons of both sexes were eager to try +their luck in a second quest.</p> +<p>The Boy, who had been up for hours, had it in mind to wait at +Orsières until his treasure should be found, or hope +abandoned; but I suggested going on at once to Martigny. There, we +could have handbills printed, offering a large reward, and these +could be distributed over the country. The diligence drivers would +help in the work, and we could also advertise in a local paper. To +this proposal the Little Pal consented; and we started off again +upon our way, a sadder if not a wiser party.</p> +<p>It was late afternoon when we straggled into Martigny. Now, our +far away Alpine Rome with its crumbling towers and castles, our +remote heights where a grey monastery was ever mirrored in the blue +eye of the mountain lake, seemed like phases of a dream.</p> +<p>Friends of the Boy's (nameless to me, like all links with his +outside life) had stopped lately at the hotel where Molly, Jack, +and I had stayed; he therefore proposed to go to the same house, +and this jumped with my inclination: for the hotel had a cheerful +and home-like individuality which I liked.</p> +<p>Pitying the Little Pal's distress, though I chaffed him for it, +I undertook the business of getting out the handbills I had +suggested, and arranging for an advertisement in a paper with a +local circulation. I had to visit the post-office, engaging in a +long discussion with the officials who controlled the diligence, +and the business occupied more than an hour. In mercy to Boy, I had +not delayed for any selfish attention to personal comfort, and +tramping back through an inch of white dust to the hotel, I was +still as travel-worn as on our arrival in the town, nearly two +hours ago. I had forbidden the tired child to accompany me, and by +this time he would no doubt be refreshed with a bath and a change +of clothing, as, fortunately, not all his personal belongings had +been contained in the ill-fated bag. He would be impatiently +waiting for me at the hotel door, perhaps; and I quickened my +steps, in haste to give him details of my doings.</p> +<p>Entering the garden, I had to bound onto the grass, to escape +being run over by a pair of horses prancing round the curve, at my +back. I turned with a basilisk glare intended for the coachman, but +instead met the astonished gaze of the very last eyes I could +possibly have expected. My glare melted into a smile, but not one +of my best, though the eyes which called it forth were alluringly +beautiful.</p> +<p>"Contessa!" I exclaimed. "Is this you, or your astral body?"</p> +<p>"Lord Lane!" the lovely lady-of-the-eyes responded. "But no, it +is not possible!"</p> +<p>Just as I was about to protest that it was not only possible, +but certain, I caught sight of the Boy, in the doorway. As, at the +Contessa's word, the carriage came to a sudden halt, she reaching +out to me two little grey suede hands, the slim figure at the door +drew back a step, as if involuntarily; but there was no getting +round it, my Italian beauty had made Boy a present of my name, +whether he wanted it or not.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"><img src= +"images/206.gif" width="300" height="283" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER +XV</p> +<h4>Enter the Contessa</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"She was the smallest lady +alive,<br /></span> <span> Made in a piece of nature's +madness,<br /></span> <span> Too small, almost, for the life +and gladness<br /></span> <span> That over-filled +her."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 14em">—Robert Browning.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>Here was a case of Mahomet, <i>en route</i> to pay his respects +to the Mountain, being met halfway by the object of his pilgrimage; +though to liken the Contessa di Ravello to a mountain is perhaps to +brutalise a poetic license. She is a fairy of a woman, a pocket +Venus. Gaetà is her name, and her sponsors in baptism must +have been endowed with prophetic souls, for she is the very spirit +of irresponsible, childlike gaiety.</p> +<p>Not that she has a sense of humour. There is all the difference +in the world between a sense of humour and a sense of fun, and +truth to tell, the Contessa had no more humour than a frolicsome +kitten. She had always been in a frolic of some sort, when I had +known her in Davos, whither she had gone because she thought it +would be "what you call a lark"; and she was in a frolic now, +judging by her merry laughter when she saw me.</p> +<p>Her great wine-brown eyes were laughing, her full, cupid-lips +were laughing, and more than all, the two deep, round dimples in +the olive cheeks were laughing. Even the little rings of black hair +on her low forehead seemed to quiver with mirth, as her head moved +with quick, bird-like gestures. She was dressed all in grey, and +the cut-steel buttons on her dress twinkled as if they too were in +the joke.</p> +<p>"Fancy meeting you here, of all places!" she said, in her pretty +English, lisping but correct. "It is a good gift from the saints. +We have had such stupid adventures, and we have been so bored."</p> +<p>"We" were evidently the handsome, slightly moustached woman of +thirty-five, and the thin, darkly dour man of fifty who were with +the Contessa in the carriage; and a moment later she had introduced +me to the Baron and Baronessa di Nivoli. I echoed the name with +some interest. "Have I the pleasure of meeting the inventor of the +new air-ship which is so much talked about?" I asked.</p> +<p>"That is my brother Paolo," replied the Baron, unbending +slightly.</p> +<p>"He will join us later," added the Baronessa, with a quick look +at the pretty and rich little widow which betrayed to me a secret. +She then turned a dark, disapproving gaze upon me which told +another, and I could have laughed aloud. "They want to nobble my +poor little Contessa for brother-aëronaut, and they don't +countenance chance meetings with strange young men," I said to +myself, greatly amused. "If they can see through the dust, and +suspect in me a possible rival for the absent, they have sharp +eyes, or keen imaginations, and I may be in for a little fun."</p> +<p>We were at the hotel door, and I was allowed to help the +Contessa out, though the elder lady preferred the aid of the +concierge. For the moment Gaetà had forgotten the claims of +her companions, and remembered only mine. It is a butterfly way of +hers to forget easily, and flutter with delight in a new corner of +the garden, just because it is new.</p> +<p>"You are staying here? How nice!" she exclaimed, without giving +me time to answer. "We should have arrived last night, but we had +an accident to our carriage—a broken wheel. It was coming +down from the Hospice of St. Bernard, which we had been to +visit—oh, not to please <i>me</i>, do not think it. It was +the Baron, here. In dim ages his people and the saint were cousins, +though the idea of a saint having cousins seems actually +sacrilegious, doesn't it? I do not love monks, I only respect them, +which is so disagreeable. But the Baron took us. <i>Dio mio!</i> I +have no warm blood left. It was frozen up there. And then, that our +carriage should have broken down at a little place—the wrong +end of nowhere—Bourg St. Something! We had to stop all night. +Fancy me without my maid, who was to meet me here. I do not know if +my dress is not on wrong side before. Later, we all have to go on +to Chamounix and then to Aix-les-Bains. I've taken a villa there +for a month. You <i>must</i> come and see me."</p> +<p>Thus she chattered on as we entered the hotel, and then, +suddenly, her bright eyes fell upon the Boy, who had retired near +the stairway. There he stood, with a book in his hand, and an +unwonted colour in his brown cheeks, glowing red under the strange +blue jewels of his eyes.</p> +<p>"What a divine boy!" the Countess half whispered to me, not +taking her gaze from him. "He is exactly like a wonderful painting +by some old Master of my own dear country. What eyes! They are +better and bigger sapphires than any I own, though I've some famous +ones. And how strange they are—looking out of his brown face, +from under such black lashes, too. Oh, a picture, certainly. He is +not like a modern, every-day boy, at all. He can't be English, of +that I'm sure, and yet––"</p> +<p>"He is American," I said, when she paused thoughtfully, the Boy +at his distance reading or pretending to read, as he stood. "But +you are right. He is very far from being an every-day boy."</p> +<p>"You know him, then?"</p> +<p>"We've been travelling companions for days, and have got to be +tremendous pals."</p> +<p>"How old is he?" asked the Contessa, a deep glow of interest and +curiosity kindling in her warm brown eyes.</p> +<p>"I don't know. He has talked freely about himself only once or +twice, though we've discussed together most other subjects under +the sun."</p> +<p>"How deliciously mysterious. Mysterious! yes, that's the word +for him. He has mysterious eyes; a mysterious face. There is a +shadow upon it. That is part of the fascination, is it not? I am +sure he is fascinating."</p> +<p>"Extraordinarily so. I have never met anyone at all like +him."</p> +<p>"He might be a boy Tasso. But he has suffered; he is not a child +any more, though his face is smooth as mine. He must be eighteen or +nineteen?"</p> +<p>"I should give him less, though he has read and thought a +tremendous lot for a boy."</p> +<p>"Men are not judges of age, thank heaven. Women are. I +<i>will</i> have it that your friend is nineteen. I should be too +silly to take an interest in him, were he less, if it were not +motherly; and that wouldn't be entertaining. You see, I am already +twenty-two."</p> +<p>"You look eighteen," I said; and it was true. Widow as she was, +it was not possible to think of the Contessa as a responsible, +grown woman.</p> +<p>"I told you that you were no judge of age. I was married at +eighteen, a widow at nineteen. <i>Dio mio!</i> but it all seems a +long time ago, already! Lord Lane, you must introduce to me your +friend the boy."</p> +<p>Here was a dilemma, but I got out of it by telling the truth, +which is usually, in the end, the best policy, many wise opinions +to the contrary notwithstanding. "You will laugh," I said, "but I +don't know his name."</p> +<p>"Not possible."</p> +<p>"True, nevertheless, like most things that seem impossible; nor +does he know mine, unless he heard you speak it driving up to the +hotel. He was at the door."</p> +<p>"Men are extraordinary! But, introduce him. You can manage +somehow. It's not his name I care for. It is those eyes. I shall +invite him to come and see me in Aix. Please bring him to me now. +The Baron is arranging about our rooms, and there is sure to be a +misunderstanding of some sort, as we had engaged for last night and +did not come. The Baronessa? Oh, never mind; she had better listen +to her husband. She is my friend, and is soon to be my guest, but +she has got upon my nerves to-day."</p> +<p>Thus bidden, I could do no less than walk away down the hall to +where the Boy stood with his book, leaning against the +baluster.</p> +<p>"I've done all I could about the bag," I said. "The people in +the post-office seemed hopeful that the big reward would do the +trick."</p> +<p>"Thank you. You are very good," he returned. Something in his +tone made me look at him closely. There was a change in him, though +for my life I could not have told what it was or why it had come; +there was ice in his voice, though I had spent nearly two dusty, +unwashed hours in his service, while he refreshed himself at +leisure.</p> +<p>"I hope it will be all right," I went on, rather heavily. "Look +here, that pretty little fairy would like to know you. She's the +Contessa di Ravello. Come along and be introduced."</p> +<p>The Boy flung up his head, his blue eyes flashing. "Why am I to +be dragged at her chariot wheels?" he demanded.</p> +<p>"Oh, rot, my child. Don't put on airs. Men twice your age would +snatch at such a chance."</p> +<p>"I can't tell what I may be capable of when I'm twice my age. +It's difficult enough to know myself now. But I +know––"</p> +<p>"Come on, do, like the dear Little Old Pal you really are," I +cut in. "You don't want to put me in a false position, do you? +Besides, I'd like particularly to get your opinion on the Contessa. +I may have to ask your advice about something connected with her, +later."</p> +<p>This fetched him, though with not too good a grace. "You don't +know my name," he said, with a return of impishness, as we walked +together towards the Contessa.</p> +<p>"I think that you have the advantage of me in that way, +now."</p> +<p>"If you call it an advantage. I had a presentiment you weren't +plain mister, so I'm not surprised. You may tell your Countess that +my name is Laurence."</p> +<p>"Christian name or 'Pagan' name?"</p> +<p>"Make the Christian name Roy."</p> +<p>In another moment I was introducing Mr. Roy Laurence to the +Contessa di Ravello; and as they stood eyeing each other, the fairy +Gaetà pulsing with coquetry through all her hot-blooded +Italian veins, the Boy aloof and critical, I was struck with the +picture that the two figures made.</p> +<p>The Boy had three or four inches more of height than the +Contessa, and looked almost tall beside her, though I had thought +of him as small. Her round, dimpled face seemed no older than his +oval brown one, in this moment of his gravity, and the haughty air +of a young prince which he wore now, consciously or unconsciously, +had a certain provoking charm for a spoiled beauty used to +conquest. The big blue stars which lit his face expressed a resolve +not to yield to any blandishment, and this no doubt piqued +Gaetà, before whom all the boys and youths at Davos had gone +down like grass before the scythe. Helen Blantock came after she +had left the place, otherwise she might have had to fight for her +rights as queen; but as it was, she had been without rivals and +probably had known few dangerous ones elsewhere. Never had I seen +her take as much real pains to be charming to a grown man, as she +took with this silent boy, during the few moments that her friends +spent in wrestling with the landlord. What lamps she lit in the +windows of her eyes, suddenly raising their curtains on dazzling +glances! What rosy flags she hung out in his honour, on dimpled +cheeks; what rich display of pearls and coral her cupid-mouth gave +him! but all in vain, so far as any change in his cold young face +showed. I had seen it warm for a gleam of light on the wing of a +swooping bird, or an effect of cloud-shadow on a mountain, as it +would not warm for this galaxy of bewitchments, and his quiet +civility was but a sharper pin-prick, I should fancy, to a woman's +vanity.</p> +<p>The little scene was not long in playing, however. Soon the +Baronessa swept to her friend's side, and bore her away, like a +large steam-tug making off against wind and tide with a dainty +sailing yacht.</p> +<p>Ignoring the subject of the lady; Boy began questioning me about +the business of the bag, thanking me again more cordially for what +I had done, when I had answered.</p> +<p>"I must have a bath and change now," said I at last. "At what +time shall we dine?"</p> +<p>"We? You will be dining with your new friend."</p> +<p>"She's an old friend, if one counts by time of acquaintance, and +charming, as you've seen; still, we're rather tired perhaps, and +not up to dinner pitch. I'm not sure but we'd get on better alone +together, you and I."</p> +<p>"I've taken a private sitting-room, and I'm going to dine +there."</p> +<p>"Will you have me with you?"</p> +<p>"If you like."</p> +<p>"It will be a good opportunity to get your advice."</p> +<p>The Boy did not answer; but when we sat at table, and had talked +for a while of indifferent things, he said abruptly: "What were you +going to ask me?"</p> +<p>"Your advice as to whether it would be well to fall in love with +the little Contessa."</p> +<p>"Has she money?"</p> +<p>"Hang it all, do you think I'm the kind of man to want a woman +for her money?"</p> +<p>"I've known you about six days."</p> +<p>"Don't hedge. Can't six days tell you as much as six +years—such six days as we've had?"</p> +<p>"Yes. It's true. I would stake a good deal that you're not that +kind of man. I don't know why I said it. Something hateful made me. +The Contessa is very pretty. Could you—fall in love with +her?"</p> +<p>"It would be an interesting experiment to try."</p> +<p>"If you think so, you must already have begun."</p> +<p>"No, not yet. I assure you I have an open mind. But it's an odd +coincidence meeting her like this. I was making the fact that she +has a house at Monte Carlo an excuse for going down +there—sooner or later—as an end to my journey. Now, she +is to be in Chamounix, and she intends to invite us both, it seems, +to visit her in Aix-les-Bains, where she has taken a villa."</p> +<p>The Boy looked at me suddenly, with a slight start. "She is +going to Chamounix?"</p> +<p>"So she says."</p> +<p>"And—she will invite you to visit her at her villa in +Aix-les-Bains."</p> +<p>"You, too. You said yesterday you wanted to go to Aix, as you +had never been; and we planned an expedition by the mule-path up +Mont Revard."</p> +<p>"I know. But—but would you visit the Contessa?"</p> +<p>"We might amuse ourselves. She would be well chaperoned, no +doubt by the Baronessa. There's a brother of the Baron's in the +background. Probably he'll turn up at Aix. Certainly he will if his +relatives have any control over his actions. He's no other, it +turns out, than Paolo di Nivoli, the young Italian whose airship +invention has been made a fuss about lately. It would be rather a +joke to try and cut him out with the Contessa—if one +could."</p> +<p>"Oh—cut him out." The Boy seemed thoughtful. "Though you +aren't in love with her?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"I see."</p> +<p>"Will you go if I do—that is, if she really asks us?"</p> +<p>I expected him to flash out a refusal, but he brooded under a +deep shadow of eyelashes for a while, looking half cross, half +mischievous, and finally said: "I'll think it over."</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 269px;"><img src= +"images/216.gif" width="269" height="300" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id= +"CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</p> +<h4>A Man from the Dark</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Desperate, proud, fond, sick, ... +rejected by men."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 18em">—Walt Whitman.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>As we drank our <i>café double</i>, tap, tap, came at the +door; a message from the Contessa di Ravello asking if we would not +take coffee with her and her friends in their private +sitting-room.</p> +<p>I would have preferred to finish my talk with the Little Pal, +which had reached an entertaining point in the announcement that he +seemed to know me less well since he had heard my name—that +names, and past histories, and circumstances were barriers between +lives. But the Boy, reluctant a short time ago to be drawn into the +Contessa's society, was now apparently willing to give up the +tête-à-tête.</p> +<p>We left our coffee, and went to drink the Contessa's, which +reached our lips chilled by the silent enmity of her friends. But, +whether because their example had been a warning, or because he had +suffered a "change, into something new and strange," the Boy was no +longer a wet blanket. He did not show the self which I had learned +to know in some of its phases, but he was shyly conciliatory with +the Contessa, the blue eyes hinting that, if she were persistent, +his admiration might be won. Still, he often answered in +monosyllables or briefly, when she spoke to him, a smile curving +his short upper lip. I could not understand what his manner meant, +nor, I am sure, could she; but she was evidently bent on solving +the puzzle.</p> +<p>"Do you play tennis?" she asked him.</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Ah, so do I, and well, too, though I'm not English. Lord Lane +will tell you that. And you dance, I know."</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"You love it? I do."</p> +<p>"I used to."</p> +<p>"That sounds as if you were a hundred, instead +of—nineteen, is it not?"</p> +<p>"I'm not quite ninety-nine."</p> +<p>"I should like to dance with you. We are the right size for each +other in the dance, are we not?"</p> +<p>"I'd try not to disappoint you."</p> +<p>"Oh, we must have a dance. You love music, I know. One sees it +by your eyes. Once, when I asked Lord Lane if he sang or played, he +said that he 'had no drawing-room tricks.' Rude of him, <i>n'est-ce +pas</i>? But you? Is it that you play?"</p> +<p>"The violin will talk for me, if I coax it."</p> +<p>"Ah, I was sure. We are going to be congenial. But the singing? +I see by your face that you sing, though you won't say so. Here is +a piano. I will accompany you, if you like, and if we know the same +things. Perhaps our voices would be well together."</p> +<p>I was surprised to see the Boy get up and go to the piano. "I +will sing if you like; but I accompany myself, always," he said. "I +don't sing things that many people know."</p> +<p>For a moment he sat at the piano, as if thinking. Then he, who +had never told me that he sang, never even spoken of singing, +turned into a young angel, and gripped my heart with a voice as +strangely haunting as his eyes and his little brown face. Had he +been a girl, I suppose his voice would have been called a deep +contralto. As he was a boy—I do not know how to classify +it.</p> +<p>I can say only that, while the mellow music rippled from his +parted lips, it seemed as if the gates of Paradise had fallen ajar. +He sang an old ballad that I had never heard. It was all about +"Douglas Gordon," whose story flowed with the tide of a plaintive +accompaniment which I think he must have arranged himself: for +somehow, it was like him. All the sadness, all the sweetness in +this sweet, sad, old world seemed concentrated in the Boy's angel +voice, and listening, I was Douglas Gordon, and he was putting my +life-sorrow into words. He took my heart and broke it, yet I would +not have had him stop. Then, suddenly, he did stop, and the +Contessa was in tears. "Bravo! bravo!" she cried, diamonds raining +over two spasmodic dimples. "Again; something else."</p> +<p>He sang Christina Rossetti's "Perchance you may remember, +perchance you may forget," and the thrill of it was in the marrow +of my bones. I had scarcely known before what music could do with +me, and the voice of the little Gaetà, following the song, +jarred on my ears as she praised the Boy, and pleaded for more.</p> +<p>"I can't sing again to-night," said he. "I'm sorry, but I can +sing only when I feel in the mood."</p> +<p>"But you will come with Lord Lane, and stay at my villa, which I +have taken at Aix—yes, if only for a few days? The Baron and +Baronessa will be with me, too. You are going that way. Lord Lane +has told me. Will you come?"</p> +<p>"Is he coming?"</p> +<p>"Lord Lane, tell him that you are."</p> +<p>"You are very good, Contessa––"</p> +<p>"There! You hear, it is settled."</p> +<p>"If—Lord Lane makes you a visit, I will also, as you are +kind enough to want me."</p> +<p>Afterwards, when we had bidden the Contessa and her guardian +dragons good-night, and it was arranged that we were to stay over +to-morrow, on account of the lost bag, I said to the Boy on the way +upstairs, "You've made a conquest of the Contessa."</p> +<p>He blushed furiously, looked angry, and then burst out laughing. +"Are you jealous?" he asked.</p> +<p>"I ought to be."</p> +<p>"But are you?"</p> +<p>"I haven't had time to analyse my emotions. Why did you never +tell me you sang?"</p> +<p>"I wasn't ready—till to-night. Now—I sang for +you."</p> +<p>"I thought it was for the Contessa."</p> +<p>"Did you? Well"—with sudden crossness—"you may go on +thinking so, if you like. Can she sing?"</p> +<p>"Rather well."</p> +<p>"As—better than I can?"</p> +<p>"You must judge for yourself when you hear her."</p> +<p>"You might tell me. But no! I don't want you to, now. It's +spoiled. Good-night."</p> +<p>"Good-night. Dream of your conquest."</p> +<p>"Probably she's only trying to—to bring you to the point, +by being nice to me. I wonder if you care?"</p> +<p>I would not give the little wretch any satisfaction. I merely +laughed, and an odd blue light flashed in his eyes. He was making +up his mind to something, for the life of me I could not tell +what.</p> +<p>The Contessa and her satellites should have gone on to Chamounix +next day, but Gaetà frankly announced her intention of +waiting, so that we might make the journey together. They were +driving over the Tête Noire, and we would go afoot, to be +sure; still, said she, we could keep more or less together, +exchanging impressions from time to time, and lunching at the same +place. She made me promise, as a reward to her for this delay, that +the Boy and I would not take the way of the Col de Balme, by which +no carriage could pass. If we did this, our party and hers must +part company early in the day, and she would be left to the tender +mercies of the Baron and Baronessa for many a <i>triste</i> +hour.</p> +<p>"But why should you be imposed upon by them, if they don't amuse +you?" I ventured to ask; for Gaetà was so frank about her +affairs that one was sometimes led inadvertently to take +liberties.</p> +<p>"Oh, it was the brother who amused me, and he amuses me still," +replied she, with a <i>moue</i>, and a shrug of her pretty +shoulders. "At least, I don't <i>think</i> I shall be tired of him, +when I see him again. He is a whirlwind; he carries a woman off her +feet, before she knows what is happening, and we like that in a +man, we Italians. We adore temperament. I was nice to the Baron and +Baronessa for Paolo's sake. He had to go away from Milan, which is +my real home, you know—(if I have a home anywhere)—to +have a medal for his air-ship, and many honours and dinners given +him in Paris; so, without stopping to think, I invited the Baron +and Baronessa to visit me in Aix. Then they suggested that we +should have a little tour first; and we are having it—<i>Dio +mio</i>, so much the worse for me, till I met you! And now they +make me feel like a naughty child."</p> +<p>"Will Paolo come also to the villa?" I asked, smiling.</p> +<p>"He has engagements to last a fortnight still. Perhaps +afterwards he may run out to Aix."</p> +<p>The Boy's face fell when I told him that I had promised the +Contessa to walk along the highroad, over the Tête Noire.</p> +<p>"Innocentina and I––" he began. Then his eyes +wandered to Gaetà, who stood with her friends at the other +end of the hail. She was looking extremely pretty, and chose that +instant to throw a quick glance at me, demanding sympathy for some +<i>ennui</i> or other caused by the Baronessa. "Oh, very well," he +finished, "it doesn't matter."</p> +<p>He was in suspense all day about his mysteriously important bag. +Though handbills had been hastily printed and scattered over the +country, there was no certainty as to when we should hear or +whether we should hear at all. Late in the evening, however, as we +were finishing dinner in the <i>salle-à-manger</i>, at the +same table with Gaetà and her friends, a message came that a +man desired to see the young monsieur who had advertised for a lost +bag.</p> +<p>The Boy excused himself, and jumped up. I should have liked to +go with him, but courtesy to the ladies forbade, and I sat still, +feeling guilty of disloyalty somehow, nevertheless, because of a +look he threw me. It seemed to say, "We were such friends, but a +woman has come between. My affairs are nothing to you now."</p> +<p>I had thought that he would be back in time for coffee, but he +did not appear, and the curiosity of Gaetà, who had been +restless since the Boy's departure, could no longer be kept within +bounds. "Do go and see if he has got that wonderful bag," she said. +"He might come to tell us!"</p> +<p>I obeyed, nothing loth, but only to learn from the concierge +that the young gentleman had gone away with the man who had +called.</p> +<p>"Did he leave no message?" I asked.</p> +<p>"No, Monsieur. He talked with the man here in the hall for a few +minutes; then he ran upstairs and soon came down again with a cap +and coat. Immediately after, he and the man went out together."</p> +<p>"What sort of man was he?"</p> +<p>"An Italian, Monsieur; a very rough-looking peasant-fellow of +middle age, poorly dressed in his working clothes. I have never +seen him before."</p> +<p>I did not like this description, nor the news the concierge had +given. It was nine o'clock, and very dark, for it had begun to rain +towards evening, and a monotonous drip, drip mingled with the plash +of the fountain in the garden. Grim fancies came knocking at the +door of my brain. It was a mad thing for a boy, little more than a +child, to go out alone in the night with a stranger, a +"rough-looking peasant-fellow," who pretended to know something of +the vanished bag; to go out, leaving no word of his intentions, nor +the direction he would take. As like as not, the man was a villain +who scented rich prey in a tourist offering a reward of five +thousand francs for a lost piece of luggage.</p> +<p>As I thought of the brave, innocent little comrade walking +unsuspectingly into some trap from which I could have saved him had +I been by his side, a sensation of physical sickness came over +me.</p> +<p>"How long is it since they went out?" I asked quickly.</p> +<p>"Ten minutes, at most, Monsieur."</p> +<p>I could have shaken the concierge's hand for this good news, for +there was hope of catching them up. I was in dinner jacket and +pumps, but I did not wait to make a dash upstairs for hat or coat. +I borrowed the blue, gold-handed cap of the concierge, not caring +two pence for my comical appearance, which would have sent +Gaetà into peals of silver laughter, and out into the rain I +went, turning up the collar of my jacket.</p> +<p>I had forgotten the Contessa, and my promise to return +immediately with tidings from the front. All I thought of was, +which direction should I take to find the Boy. Ought I to turn +towards the town or away from it?</p> +<p>Before I reached the garden gate, not many metres from the door, +I had decided to try the town way; and lest I should be doing the +wrong thing and have to rectify my mistake later, I ran as a +lamplighter is popularly supposed to run, but doesn't and never +did.</p> +<p>The Boy and his companion would be walking, and, if I were on +the right track, I was almost sure to catch them up sooner or later +at this pace, before they could reach the town and turn off into +some side street.</p> +<p>I had not been galloping along through the fresh, grey mud for +three hundred metres when I saw two figures moving slowly a few +paces ahead. One was small and slender, the other of middle height +and strongly built.</p> +<p>"Boy, is that you?" I shouted.</p> +<p>The slim figure turned, and I mumbled a "Thank goodness!"</p> +<p>"Little wretch!" I exclaimed heartily, as I joined the couple +ahead. "How could you go off alone like this with a stranger, +perhaps a ruffian (he looks it), without leaving any word for me? +You deserve to be shaken."</p> +<p>"You wouldn't say he looked a ruffian, if you could see his +face. I'm sure he's honest. And as for sending word, I didn't care +to disturb you and—your Contessa."</p> +<p>"Hang the—no, of course, I don't mean that. Luckily I was +in time to catch you, and––"</p> +<p>"Did the Contessa send you after me, or did––"</p> +<p>"She doesn't know what's become of you. There was no time for +politenesses. You gave me some bad moments, little brute. Now, tell +me what you're about."</p> +<p>He explained that the peasant (who understood no word of +English) was an Italian who had come to Martigny to find work as a +road mender, that he had been taken ill and lost his job; that he +had tramped back over the St. Bernard to Aosta, near which place he +had once lived; that the work he had heard of there was already +given to another; and that, walking back to rejoin his family near +Martigny, he had found the bag on the Pass. He had brought it home, +and had only just learned the address of the owner, as set forth in +the handbills.</p> +<p>"Why didn't he bring the bag to you, and claim the reward?" I +asked.</p> +<p>"It is at the house of the priest, and the priest has been away +all day, visiting a relative in the country somewhere, who is ill, +so this man, Andriolo Stefani, couldn't get the bag. But he came to +tell me that it was found, and where it was."</p> +<p>"And he pretends to be guiding you to the house of the priest +now?"</p> +<p>"No. I'm going to his house—or rather, the room where he +and his wife and children live."</p> +<p>"For goodness' sake, why?"</p> +<p>"Because he's refused to accept the reward for finding the +bag."</p> +<p>"By Jove, he must have some deep game. What reason did he give, +and what excuse did he make, for dragging you off to his lair? It +sounds as if he meant to try and kidnap you for a +ransom—(these things do happen, you know)—and there are +probably others in it besides himself. I don't believe in the +priest, nor the wife and children, nor even in his having found the +bag."</p> +<p>"He didn't ask me to go to his house. When I spoke of the +reward, he said that he couldn't take it, and though I questioned +him, would not tell me why, but was evidently distressed and +unhappy. Finally he admitted that it was his wife who would not +allow him to accept a reward. She had made him promise that he +wouldn't. Then I said that I'd like to talk to her, and might I go +with him to his house. He tried to make excuses; he had no house, +only one room, not fit for me to visit; and the place was a long +way off, outside Martigny Bourg; but I insisted, so at last he gave +in. Now, do you still think he's the leader of a band of +kidnappers?"</p> +<p>"I don't know what to think. There's evidently something queer. +I'll talk to him."</p> +<p>During our hurried conversation, the man had walked on a few +steps in advance. I called him back, speaking in Italian. He came +at once, and now that we were in the town, where here and there a +blur of light made darkness visible, I could see his face +distinctly. I had to confess to myself at first glance that it was +not the face of a cunning villain,—this worn, weather-beaten +countenance, with its hollowed cheeks, and the sad dark eyes, out +of which seemed to look all the sorrows of the world.</p> +<p>He had found the bag night before last, he said, between the +Cantine de Proz and Bourg St. Pierre. It had been lying in the +road, in the <i>rücksack</i>, and he judged by the strap that +it had been attached to the back of a man, or a mule. While I +questioned him further, trying to get some details of description +not given in the handbills, he paused. "There is the priest's +house," he said. "There is a light in the window now. Perhaps he +has come back."</p> +<p>"We will stop and ask for the bag," said I, watching the face of +the man. It did not blench, and I began to wonder if, after all, he +might not be honest.</p> +<p>The priest, a delightful, white-haired old fellow, himself of +the peasant class, had returned, and from a locked cupboard in his +bare little dining-room study produced the much talked of bag, in +its <i>rücksack</i>.</p> +<p>The Boy sprang at it eagerly. So secure had he believed it to be +on the grey donkey's back, that he had not been in the habit of +taking out the key. It was still in the lock, and, the bag standing +on the priest's dinner table, the Boy opened it with visible +excitement. Then he dived down into the contents, without bringing +them into sight, and a bright colour flamed in his cheeks. +"Everything is safe," he said, with a long sigh of relief. "I'm +thankful."</p> +<p>He turned to the priest, speaking in French—and his French +was very good. "I have offered a large reward to the finder of this +bag. But the man will not have it. Can you tell me why, <i>mon +père</i>?"</p> +<p>"I cannot tell you, Monsieur. Doubtless he has a reason which +seems to him good," answered the priest, who evidently knew that +reason, but was pledged not to tell. "He and his family have not +been in my parish long, but I believe them to be worthy people. I +have been trying to get work for Andriolo, since he has been well +again, and able to undertake it, but so far I have not been +fortunate."</p> +<p>The Boy took a handful of gold from his pocket. "For the poor of +your parish, <i>mon père</i>, if you will be good enough to +accept it for them," said he, with great charm and simplicity of +manner. The old priest flushed with pleasure, saying that he had +many poor, and was constantly distressed because he could do so +little. This would be a Godsend. I glanced at the Italian, and saw +that his weary, dark eyes were fixed with a passionate wistfulness +upon the gold. This look, his whole appearance, bespoke poverty, +yet he had deliberately refused five thousand francs, a fortune to +most men of his condition. Now that he was vouched for by the +priest, extreme curiosity took the place of suspicion in my +mind.</p> +<p>I hid the blue cap of the concierge behind my back, in the +priest's house, but the Boy saw it, and saw that I was drenched +with rain. I must have been a figure for laughter, but he did not +laugh. "You see, I was in a hurry," I excused myself, under a long, +comprehending gaze of his. "It's your fault if I look an ass."</p> +<p>"You didn't stop even to go and get a hat," he said. "You came +out in the rain just as you were, and you ran—I heard you +running, behind me. But—but of course it's because you're +kind-hearted. You would have done just the same for anybody. +For—the Contessa––"</p> +<p>"Not for the Baronessa, anyhow," said I. "I should have stopped +for a mackintosh and even goloshes, had her safety been hanging in +the balance."</p> +<p>Then we both laughed, and Stefani, who by this time was showing +us the way through the rain to his own home, looked over his +shoulder, surprised and self-conscious, as if he feared that we +were laughing at him.</p> +<p>On the outskirts of straggling Martigny Bourg, he stopped before +a gloomy, grey stone house with four rows of closed wooden +shutters, which meant four floors of packed humanity. Even Martigny +has its tenements for poor workers, or those who would be workers +if they could, and this was one of them.</p> +<p>We followed Andriolo Stefani up four flights of narrow stone +stairs, picking our way by testing each step with a cautious foot, +since light there was none. Arrived at the top floor, we groped +along a passage to the back of the house, and our guide opened a +door. There was a yellow haze, which meant one candle-flame +fighting for its life in the dark, and we waited outside, while the +Italian spoke for a moment to someone we could not see. There came +a note of protest in a woman's voice, but the man's beat it down +with some argument, and then Stefani returned to ask us in.</p> +<p>Two women sat in a room almost bare of furniture, and both tried +to rise on our entrance; but one, who was young as years go, had +her lap full of little worn shoes, and the other, who looked older +than the allotted span, was nursing a wailing baby, half +undressed.</p> +<p>I found myself strangely embarrassed with the coarse guilt of +intrusion. I was suddenly oppressed with self-conscious +awkwardness, wishing myself anywhere else, and not knowing what to +do or say. In all probability I looked haughty and disagreeable, +though I felt humble as a worm. How the Boy felt I have no means of +knowing; I can only tell how he acted. One would have thought that +he had known these poor people all his life. I lingered near the +door, taking notes of the sad picture; the two rough wooden boxes, +in which slept three little dark children, all apparently of +exactly the same size; the mattress on the floor near by for the +parents; the open door leading into a dark garret, where, no doubt, +the grandmother crept to sleep; the shelves on the wall, bare save +for a few dishes of peasant-made pottery; the pile of dried mud on +the tiled floor, which the young mother had been carefully scraping +with a knife from the little worn boots in her lap; the rickety, +uncovered table, with a bunch of endives on a plate, and a candle +guttering in a bottle. This was the picture, redeemed from squalor +only by the lithograph of the Virgin on the wall, draped with fresh +wild flowers, and its perfect cleanliness; this was the home of the +supposed "kidnapper," the man who had refused to accept five +thousand francs as a reward.</p> +<p>While I stood, stiff and uncomfortable, the Boy went forward +quickly, begging the two women not to rise. "Poor, dear little +baby!" he said in Italian, looking down at the dark scrap of +humanity in the grandmother's arms. "She is ill, isn't she?"</p> +<p>Now, how did he know that the creature was a "she"? If it were a +guess, it was a lucky one, for both women replied together that the +little girl had been ailing since yesterday. They could not tell +what was the matter. They had hoped that she would be better +to-day, but instead, she seemed worse; and with this, a glittering +film which had been overspreading the mother's eyes, suddenly +dissolved into silently falling rain. There were no sobs, no +gaspings from this tired woman, too used to sorrow to rail against +it, yet it was plain to see that her heart was breaking. Still, +life must go on: and so, while she grieved for a little one she +feared to lose, she cleaned the boots of those she hoped to +keep.</p> +<p>"Have you called a doctor for her?" asked the Boy.</p> +<p>"The good priest is half a doctor. He came to see the +<i>bambina</i>."</p> +<p>"What did he say?"</p> +<p>"Oh, Signor, we cannot give her all the things he said she +should have, nor can he help us to them, for he has much to do for +others, and little to do it with."</p> +<p>"Yet you would not let your husband take the reward I offered +for finding my bag. He is out of work, and you are poor; you have +four children to feed, and one of them is ill. Why will you not +have the money? I have come to ask you that. You see, I <i>want</i> +you to have it, for the bag is worth all I've offered and even more +to me."</p> +<p>"Ah, Signor, how can I tell you? It was to save my baby I +refused."</p> +<p>"Please tell. You need not mind saying anything to me—or +to my friend. We are interested and want to help you."</p> +<p>Now the young woman's tears were falling fast, but silently +still, as if she knew that her heart-break was unimportant in the +great scheme of things, and she wished to make no noise about it. +Her lips moved, but no words came.</p> +<p>"She will not speak against me," Stefani said suddenly, "nor +will my poor mother. But I will tell you the story. I meant to +steal your bag, and sell the gold things and all the valuables that +were in it. It was a great temptation, for we had scarce a penny +left, and there was no work anywhere. I was tired, tired all +through to my heart, Signor, that night on the Pass, and then I +found the bag. I brought it home, and charged Emilia and my mother +to say nothing to anyone outside. The children were at school, so +they did not see, or they might have lisped out something, and set +people talking. The two women begged me to give up the bag, and try +for a reward in case one should be offered, but I was desperate. I +said that the gold was worth more than anything that would be +offered—the gold, and some jewelry in a little box. I knew a +man who would buy of me, and I had gone out to find him yesterday, +when, as if Heaven had sent a curse upon us for my sin, the +<i>bambina</i> was struck down with this illness—a terrible +aching of her little head, and a fever. When I came home to take +away the things out of the bag, my wife begged me on her knees, for +the child's sake, to change my mind; and at last I did, for who can +hold out against the prayers of those he loves?</p> +<p>"Quickly, lest I should repent, I carried the bag to our priest, +and told him all. He thought as a penance for the sin which had +been in my heart, I should take no reward if it were offered, +though he did not lay this upon me as a command. Emilia was with +him, for, said she, Our Lady will save the baby if we make this +great sacrifice. Now you know all the truth."</p> +<p>"And I know that you are good people—better than I would +have been in your places—better than anyone I know. There's +no credit in keeping straight if one's not tempted to go wrong, is +there? I won't offend you by begging that you'll take the reward. I +offer you no reward, but I am going to give your children a +present, and you are to use it for the comfort of your family. I +have enough with me, because, you see, I had to get something ready +to-day, in case the reward had to be paid. Now, it isn't needed for +that, so I can use it in this other way. And you have done all that +is right, and you would hurt me very much if you refused to let me +do what I wish. It is always wrong to hurt people, you know. And +you must send me word early to-morrow morning before I go, whether +the baby is better. I feel sure, somehow, that she will be."</p> +<p>Then a roll of notes was thrust into one of the little boots, +still caked with mud, which the mother kept mechanically in her +hand. There was a pat on the shoulder, too, and an instant later +the Boy's arm was hooked into mine; I was whisked away with him in +as rapid a flight as if he had been a thief, and not a +benefactor.</p> +<p>"How much did you give them, young Santa Claus?" I asked, when +he had me out in the rain again.</p> +<p>"About one thousand three hundred dollars. I can't stop to +calculate it for you in pounds or francs. I'm too excited. Oh, how +wet you are, poor Man! And all for me! But wasn't it splendid! And +I just know that baby'll be better to-morrow. You see if she +isn't."</p> +<p>She was. The news was brought to us early in the morning by a +poor man half out of his wits with joy and gratitude.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"><img src= +"images/234.gif" width="350" height="343" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id= +"CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</p> +<h4>The Little Game of Flirtation</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span class="i1">"To take your lovers on the +road with you, for all that you<br /></span> <span>leave them +behind you."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 21em">—Walt Whitman.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>The Contessa had to be pacified, but she adored romance, and she +was pleased to say that the story of the bag, lost and found, which +I—not the Boy—told her, came under that category. She +was in the best of tempers for a day of travelling, and saw us off, +before her friends were dressed and ready to begin their drive to +Chamounix.</p> +<p>"They are taking as long as they can, on purpose," she whispered +to me, with the air of a naughty child planning mischief behind the +backs of its elders. "Anything to keep me to themselves and away +from you! But you are walking, and the way is uphill for a very +long time, so the hotel people say. We shall catch you up, and just +to spite the Di Nivolis, if nothing more, I shall beg first one of +you, then the other, to let me give you a lift. Neither of you must +refuse, or I shall cry, and no man has ever made me cry yet."</p> +<p>"I'm sure no man ever will," I answered promptly.</p> +<p>"And no boy?" she asked, with a long-lashed glance at my +companion, who had given no answer save a smile.</p> +<p>"I wonder how you would look when you cried, Contessa?" was the +only reply the little wretch deigned, but instead of offending, it +appeared to amuse her. She watched our cavalcade out of the hotel +garden (the <i>rücksack</i> once more on Souris' faithless +back), and the silver bells of her laughter lightly rang us down +the road.</p> +<p>Again we had to pass through Martigny Bourg, and presently, +turning aside from the road which had led me to the Grand St. +Bernard, we took the way on the right, almost at once feeling the +rise of the hill. Steeper and steeper it grew, and warmer and +warmer we, though the day was young. Often we were glad of the +excuse the view gave us to stop and look back, down into the wide +bowl of the Rhone Valley, with a heat-haze of quivering blue, +creating an effect of great distance, like a "gauze drop" on the +stage.</p> +<p>Surely this was the longest lull on earth, and when we reached +the top—if we ever did—we should find that we had been +climbing Jack's Beanstalk, coming out into a different world! Up +and up we dragged for hours, the Boy determined not to take to +donkey-back, despite the protestations of Innocentina, emphatic, +but slightly modified by constant association with the man she was +engaged in converting.</p> +<p>Sometimes we were ministered to by small maidens, with +marvellously neat, sleek hair, who sprang up under our eyes, +apparently from rabbit-holes, their arms hooked into the handles of +big fruit baskets which might easily have been their bathtubs or +cradles. If we seemed inclined to turn away with an expressionless +gaze, the little creatures forged after us with a determined trot, +laid back with tiny brown hands the dainty white napkin hiding the +basket's contents, and tempted us with purple plums or mellow +pears. In the end, we invariably succumbed to these wiles, even +when we had sickened at the thought of fruit, and were obliged +surreptitiously to hide our purchases by the wayside, when the +sturdy young vendors' backs were turned.</p> +<p>We carried our panamas in our hands, and the Boy's short +chestnut curls clung to his forehead in damp rings, making him look +absurdly childish. I wondered at myself for discussing with eager +interest, as I often did, so many of life's unanswerable questions +with such a slip of boyhood. Still, I knew that I should often do +it again, while we remained together, and that he would know how to +measure wits with mine, to my disadvantage, compelling always my +respect for his opinions, unless he happened to be in an +inconsequential or impish mood.</p> +<p>After a long climb, we called a halt at the most attractive of +several little wayside châlets we had passed. Each was +thoughtfully provided with an awning or wooden roof stretching +across the road to give shade to travellers, who were lured to +pause by bottles of bright-coloured syrups, wine, and beer +displayed on flower-decked tables. Our chosen châlet made a +specialty of milk, and a view. There was a rough balcony at the +back, built over a sheer precipice, and far beneath, the Rhone +Valley spread itself for our eyes. We sat resting, with glasses of +rich yellow milk in our hands, when a voice under the road-shelter +in front roused us from reverie. It was the Contessa greeting +Joseph and Innocentina, who were reposing on a bench in the +delicious shade.</p> +<p>"I was just thinking it was rather queer they hadn't caught us +up," I said, rising; and then I asked myself why I had said it; +for, when I came to cross-question my own thoughts, they had to own +up that the Contessa had not been in them.</p> +<p>"Oh, it was the Contessa you were thinking of, then, when you +sat looking as if you were a thousand miles away, and had left your +body behind to keep your place?" said the Boy, jumping up quickly. +"Well, here she is; your mind may be at ease."</p> +<p>We returned to the front of the house, through the neat, bare +"living-room," the Boy a step or two ahead of me, as if anxious to +greet the new arrivals. Off came his hat, and he stood leaning +against the carriage, looking up into the warm brown eyes of +Gaetà, which were warmer and brighter than ever because of +this sudden show of devotion.</p> +<p>Had the magnetism of her coquetry fired him? I wondered, it +would be strange if it were not so, for she was beautiful, and her +manner flattering to a boy so young. Somehow, my spirits were +dashed at the thought that my companion's last words to me might be +explained by jealousy of an older man with a pretty woman. It would +be hard if it were to come to this between us. Though I had talked +of going to see her in Monte Carlo, the butterfly Contessa was no +more to me than a delicate pastel on someone else's wall, or a gay +refrain, which charms the ear without haunting the memory. I would +not interfere with the Boy; if he chose to encourage Gaetà +to flirt with him, he need not fear me; but I had liked to think he +valued my comradeship. Now, a fancy for this child-woman would rob +me of him. Instead of being piqued by the Contessa's growing +preference for the Boy, as I ought to have been by all the rules of +the game of flirtation, I was conscious of anger against her as an +intruder.</p> +<p>This feeling increased almost to sulkiness when the Boy was +invited to take a seat in the carriage beside the gloomy Baron, and +accepted promptly.</p> +<p>The driving party had been delayed a long time in starting, +Gaetà explained, making large eyes which blamed her friends +for everything; and the driver had brought his horses slowly, oh, +so slowly, up the long hill, the stupid fellow. But now the +carriage flashed ahead, and I was left to tramp on alone, while the +Contessa and the Boy flirted, and Joseph and Innocentina bickered, +all alike unmindful of me.</p> +<p>We lunched at the Col de Forclaz, where the hill, tired of going +up, ran down to another valley. There was a godlike assemblage of +mountains, white and blue, mountains as far as the eye could reach, +and I had a thought or two which I would have liked to exchange for +some of the Boy's. But if he had ever really had any thoughts, save +for the fun of the moment, he had the air of forgetting them all +for Gaetà. When, in a tone of unenthusiastic politeness, she +asked if I would not take my friend's place in the carriage for a +while when we started on again, out of pure spite against the +little wretch who had dropped me for her I said that I would.</p> +<p>I could not see the Boy's face, to make sure if he were +disappointed, but I hoped it. As for myself, I would fain have +walked. In a scene of such exalted beauty, Gaetà's little +quips and quirks struck a wrong note. Sitting with my back to the +horses, I could see the Boy walking on behind, his face raised +mountain-ward and sky-ward, and I longed to know of what he was +thinking, for evidently he had left his aggravating, +"awfully-jolly-don't-you-know" mood in the carriage with the +Contessa.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 522px;"><a name="i240" id= +"i240"><img src="images/240.gif" width="522" height="700" alt= +""SITTING WITH MY BACK TO THE HORSES."" title= +""SITTING WITH MY BACK TO THE HORSES."" /></a></div> +<p>The Baron and his wife disputed volubly about the date of one of +Paolo's grand dinners in Paris; Gaetà yawned, and I was +stricken with dumbness. I could think of nothing to say which she +would think worth hearing. Soon, the tremendously steep descent +into the valley gave me the best of excuses to jump down and +relieve the horses, which the coachman was leading. Somehow, I +don't quite know how, I fell back a good distance behind the +carriage, and then I found myself so near the Boy, who had been +slowly following, that it would have been rude not to join him. +After all, we had no quarrel, yet oddly enough we could not take up +the thread of our intercourse exactly where it had been broken off. +There seemed to be a knot or a tangle in it, which would have to be +smoothed out.</p> +<p>It was a wholly irrelevant incident which untied the knot, and +left us as we had been, though there was no reason for it but a +laugh which we had together.</p> +<p>The thing came about in this wise. We arrived at a small hotel +which boasted a garden, and was famous as a view-point. From the +door a carriage containing a man was about to drive away. The man +was approaching middle age, and had an air of quiet self-reliance +which redeemed him from insignificance. He was plainly dressed, in +clothes which were not new, and altogether he did not appear to be +a personage who, from the hotel-keeper's point of view, would be of +supreme importance. Yet the landlord and another besieged the quiet +man with compliments and pleadings, to which he did not seem +inclined to listen. Bowing gravely, he told his coachman to drive +on, and in a moment had passed us as we stood in the road.</p> +<p>But when he had gone, the landlord and his assistant still had +no eyes for us. "Mark my words," exclaimed the former, in a tone of +anguish, "we shall lose our star."</p> +<p>Were they astrologers, that they should fear this fate?</p> +<p>Our curiosity was excited, and seeing a head-waiterly person, +who wore a mien between awe and stifled amusement, I called for +beer which I did not wish to drink. It was served on a table in the +shady garden, and I enquired if the carriage just out of sight had +contained a troublesome guest.</p> +<p>"Troublesome is not the word, Monsieur," replied the waiter. +"But a thing has happened. That gentleman whom you saw, arrived a +few days ago, giving the name of Karl. He took the cheapest room in +the house; he drank one of the cheapest wines, having satisfied +himself that the price was within his means. To-day, he said that +he was leaving, and asked for his bill. When it was made out, the +wine came to a franc more than he thought it ought. 'I do not +complain,' said he to our <i>patron</i>; 'if that is the price of +the wine, I will pay, but I was told at the table it was less. I do +not consider the wine good enough for the price.' This vexed the +<i>patron</i>, because one does not think the more of a person who +haggles over a franc, especially if that person has studied +cheapness in all ways during his visit. Perhaps the <i>patron</i> +spoke somewhat irritably, for he did not care whether the monsieur +ever came back to his house or not. Then the monsieur paid the +bill, without another word, and was going away, when a German +gentleman, who had been sitting here in the garden, said to the +<i>patron</i>: 'Do you know who that is?' No,' replied our +<i>patron</i>, 'I do not know, nor do I care.' 'It is Baedeker,' +said the gentleman. This was terrible; and the patron flew to +correct the little mistake about the wine, with a thousand +apologies; but the monsieur would not have his money back, and you +saw him drive away. Now, it is possible that our hotel will no +longer keep its star, and that would be no less than a +catastrophe."</p> +<p>Evidently, what his cherished peacock-feather is to a Chinese +mandarin, that is a Baedeker star to a hotel-keeper; and the Boy +and I were so tickled at the little tragi-comedy that we forgot, as +we walked on side by side, that we had been upon official terms +only.</p> +<p>Again we were struck by the extraordinary individuality which +differentiates one valley or mountain-pass from another. We had +seen nothing like this; nothing, perhaps, so purely beautiful. One +could not imagine that winter snow and ice could still the pulse of +summer here. It was as if we wandered from one green glade to +another in fairyland, where all the little people who owned the +magic land had turned themselves hurriedly into strangely delicate +ferns and bluebells to watch us, laughing, as we went by.</p> +<p>The village of Trient lay in deep shadow when we reached it, and +found the others waiting for us in the carriage in front of the +chief hotel; but there was no gloom in the shadow; it was only a +deeper shade of green, with a hint of transparent blue streaked +across it. Another remote, dream-village on the long list of places +where I really <i>must</i> stay for a lazy summer month—when +I have time! The list was growing long now, almost worryingly long, +and the Boy felt it so, too, for he also had a list, and strange to +say, it was much the same as mine.</p> +<p>We had tea, and were vaguely surprised to see a number of people +of our own kind, most of them English and American, engaged in the +same occupation, and evidently at home in the place. Trient was on +their list as well as ours, and now, if they liked, they could +cross it off, and begin with the next place.</p> +<p>The Contessa thought the Boy looked tired, and urged him to +drive again, but though his manner was still flirtatious he found +an excuse to keep to his feet. He was not really tired, not a bit; +how could one be tired in so much beauty? The poor horses were +fagged though, for the carriage was heavy; he would not add to its +weight.</p> +<p>"You <i>are</i> getting rather white about the gills," I said to +him when the driving party had once more left us behind. "Why +didn't you take up your flirtation where you left it off, like a +serial story to be 'continued in your next'? Your weight is +nothing."</p> +<p>"It wasn't that, really," replied the Boy.</p> +<p>"What, then?"</p> +<p>"Do you remember why I wanted to come over the Tête +Noire?"</p> +<p>"To have the sensation of Mont Blanc suddenly bursting upon +you."</p> +<p>"Well, I—to tell the truth, I had a whim—just a +whim, and nothing more—to be with you and not with the +Contessa when the time for that sensation should come."</p> +<p>My heart warmed; but perhaps I was flattering myself unduly. +"You were afraid that her fascinations might overpower those of +Mont Blanc, I suppose, whereas I am a mere stock or stone?"</p> +<p>"That's one way of putting it," replied he calmly. But when the +sensation did come, he caught my arm, with a quick-drawn breath, +and no word following.</p> +<p>Our worship of other mountains had been a serving of false gods. +There was the one White Truth, dwarfing all else into +insignificance; not a mere mountain, but a world of snow sailing +moon-like in full sky. It was, indeed, as if the moon, gleaming +white and bathed in radiance, had come to pay Earth a visit. Surely +it would not stay; surely it was a secret that she had come, and we +had found it out, just when this great dark rock-door through which +we looked, opened by accident to show the sight. But if it were a +secret, there was no fear that we would ever tell it, for it soared +beyond words.</p> +<p>The first glimpse gave this impression; afterwards we could not +have recalled it if we had tried. We grew used to the white Majesty +which faced us, by-and-bye, as alas! one does grow used to beauty +while one has it within reach of the eye. But just as the Boy had +begun to confess himself tired, and to lag in his walk, resting an +arm on my shoulder, a new wonder came, like a draught of tonic +wine. Sunset, with King Midas' touch, transformed the whole +mountain to gold, so that it burned like a lamp to light the world, +against a violet sky. In the foreground was a low rampart of green +mountain, down which poured a huge glacier like an arrested +cataract. It glimmered with a faint radiance, greenish-blue, and +pale as the gleam of a glow-worm. The violet of the sky deepened to +amethyst-purple, and the snow on the waving line of mountains +turned from gold to pink, as if there had been a sudden rain of +rose leaves.</p> +<p>For a long time lasted the changing play of jewelled lights, and +then the magic colour was swallowed at a gulp by the descending +night.</p> +<p>Far away, and far down in the deep valley, the lights of +Chamounix and its satellite villages sparkled like a troupe of +fallen stars. They lay in a bright heap, clustered together; and +Innocentina, coming up with us at this moment, said that they were +like raisins sunk together at the bottom of a pudding. The late +rain had set all the little torrents talking, and we were silent, +listening to their gossip of the mountains' secrets.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"><img src= +"images/247.gif" width="250" height="241" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id= +"CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</p> +<h4>Rank Tyranny</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Thou art past the tyrant's +stroke."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 11em">—Shakespeare.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>We seemed to have formed a habit, the Boy and I, of steering +always for a Hôtel Mont Blanc, if there were one in a town; +so that now we had come to look upon a hostelry with such a name as +a sort of second home, a daughter of a mother house. There were +still two other reasons why we should select the Mont Blanc in +Chamounix: the first, because the Contessa was going there and had +asked us to do likewise; the second, because at Martigny we had +seen an advertisement of the hotel which stated that it was +situated in a "<i>vaste parc avec chamois</i>."</p> +<p>Our imagination pictured an ancient château, altered for +modern uses, shut away from the outer world in a mysterious forest +of dark pines, where wild chamois sported gracefully at will, +leaping across chasms from one overhanging rock to another.</p> +<p>It was long past twilight when our little procession of four +human beings and three beasts of burden straggled through a lighted +gateway which we had been told to enter for the Hôtel Mont +Blanc. With one blow our ancient castle was shattered. At a hundred +metres distant from the street rose an enormous modern hotel, +blazing with light at every window. Where was the vast park with +its crowding pines and its ravines for the wild chamois? It must be +somewhere, since the advertisement certified its existence, and so +must the chamois. Perhaps the forest lay behind the hotel; but the +Boy was too tired to care, and to us both baths, food, and rest +were for the moment worth more than parks or chamois. The hotel +struck a high note of civilisation, and I had seen nothing so fine +since London or Paris. The Boy and I dined late and sumptuously, +tête-à-tête, for the hot sun and the long drive +had sent Gaetà to bed, chastened with a headache; and, weary +as he was, the Little Pal had pluck enough left to suggest an +appointment for early next morning. "I shall want to know how Mont +Blanc looks from my window, so I won't waste my time in bed," said +he. "Besides, I'm rather keen to see the chamois, aren't you? The +only one I've ever met was stuffed, and rather moth-eaten. He was +in a dime museum in New York."</p> +<p>I was up at half-past six next day, and at my window, where Mont +Blanc in early sunshine smote me in the face with its nearness. A +sudden longing took me, as the longing for a great white lamp takes +a moth, to fly at it, or, in other words, to get myself to the top. +I had never "done" any Swiss ascents, though I knew almost every +peak and pinnacle of rock in Cumberland and Wales, and it seemed to +me that I should be a muff to miss the chance of such a climb as +this. By the time I had dressed, the thing was decided. I would see +about guides, and try to arrange at once for the ascent.</p> +<p>The thought had joy in it, and I ran downstairs, whistling the +"Alpine Maid." The Boy and I had settled overnight that we would +drink our morning coffee and eat our rolls together, at a quarter +to eight, long before the Contessa or her friends had opened their +eyes; but the appointed time was not yet come, and I had it in mind +to make enquiries concerning my excursion, when I almost stumbled +against the Boy, coming in at the front door.</p> +<p>"I've been out in the park," said he, when we had exchanged by +way of greeting a "Hello, Boy" and "Hello, Man."</p> +<p>"Meet any chamois?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Honour bright? An inspection of the park from my window led me +to fear that they must be an engaging myth. There's a fine big +garden, with a lot of trees in it, but as for rocks or +chamois––"</p> +<p>"There are both. Come out and I'll show you."</p> +<p>I went, walking beside the Boy along one well-kept path after +another, until suddenly the bubble delusion broke. In a cage stood +or sat, in various attitudes of bored dejection, five melancholy +little animals with horns, and singularly large, prominent eyes. +Their aspect begged pardon for their degradation, as they turned +their backs with weak scorn upon a toy rock in the centre of their +prison. "We have reason to believe that we are well connected," +they seemed to bleat, "because there is an ancient legend in our +household that we are chamois, but you must not judge the family by +us."</p> +<p>"I believe," said the Boy pitifully, "they've degenerated so far +now, that, if one gave them Mont Blanc to bound upon, they wouldn't +know what to do with it."</p> +<p>"I would, however," said I, full of my project, "and I'm +thinking of trying."</p> +<p>"What do you meant" asked the Boy, looking rather startled.</p> +<p>"Let's have breakfast out of doors on a little table under the +trees, and I'll tell you. Here's one in the shade, and away from +the—er—a certain chamois-ness in the air." I pulled up +chairs, and raised my hand to a hovering waiter. "What I mean to +say is," I went on, "that I'm going to make the ascent as soon as I +can arrange it. You won't mind waiting for me a couple of days, +will you?—or, of course, you can travel with the Contessa if +you like. No doubt she would be delighted to have you."</p> +<p>"You're going up—Mont Blanc?"</p> +<p>"I am, my Kid."</p> +<p>"No."</p> +<p>"Why not?"</p> +<p>"Because—you might be killed."</p> +<p>"Good heavens, one would think I was Icarus, gluing a pair of +wax wings on to my shoulder-blades for a flight into ether. I'm not +exactly a novice at the game, you know, though I haven't done any +snow-climbing. Why, you little donkey, you look pale. What's the +matter with you?"</p> +<p>"Do you know what happened this morning—or rather last +night?" the Boy replied to my question with another. "Did any of +the hotel people tell you?"</p> +<p>"No. Don't be mysterious before breakfast. It isn't good for the +digestion."</p> +<p>"Don't joke. I wasn't going to say anything about it till +afterwards, in case you hadn't heard; but now I will. The <i>femme +de chambre</i> told me. The news has just come that a young guide +has died of exhaustion on the mountain, between the Observatory and +the Grands Mulets. Two others who were with him had to leave him +lying dead, after dragging the body down a long way."</p> +<p>At this inappropriate moment, our coffee, rolls, and honey were +set before us, and the waiter, being an accomplished linguist, like +most of his singularly gifted and enterprising kind, had heard and +understood the last sentence. Bursting with gruesome information, +he could not resist lightening himself of the burden, for our +benefit and his own. "You can see the dead man lying on the snow, +far up on the mountain," said he eagerly, "if you go into the town +and look through one of the telescopes. I have seen him already; he +is like a small, dark packet on the white ground, wrapped in his +coat."</p> +<p>My appetite for breakfast suddenly dwindled, but not so my +appetite for the climb. I was very sorry that a man had died on the +mountain, but I could not bring him to life again by remaining on +low levels, and so I remarked when the Boy asked me if I were still +in the same mind concerning the ascent. "I shall see about a guide +directly after breakfast," said I, "and when you hear a cannon +fired in the town announcing the arrival of a party at the top of +Mont Blanc, you will know it is an echo of my shout of +Excelsior!"</p> +<p>"No, I won't know it," returned the Boy obstinately. "For one +thing, the cannon might be fired for someone else, and besides, I +won't be here."</p> +<p>"Oh, you'll go on with the Contessa? But I shouldn't be +surprised if she were good-natured enough to wait at Chamounix to +congratulate me when I come down."</p> +<p>"No doubt she thinks enough of you to do that. But what I mean +is this: if you go up Mont Blanc, I'm going too."</p> +<p>"Nonsense! You'll do nothing of the kind. You are a very plucky +chap, but you're not a Hercules yet, whatever you may develop into +ten years from now. No minors are permitted to ascend Mont +Blanc."</p> +<p>"<i>That's</i> nonsense, if you like! I shall go if you do."</p> +<p>"I won't take you."</p> +<p>"I don't ask you to. I shan't start until after you've gone, so, +you see, you'll have no power to prevent me."</p> +<p>"You are simply talking rot, my dear boy. Good heavens, you'd +die of mountain sickness or exhaustion before you were half-way +up."</p> +<p>"Perhaps. I know very little about my ability as a climber, for +I've never made any big ascents, though I've scrambled about in the +mountains a little at home."</p> +<p>"It would be madness for you to attempt such a thing. Why, don't +you know it taxes the endurance of a strong man? You've only lately +recovered from an illness; you told me so yourself. I shan't allow +you to––"</p> +<p>"You're not my keeper, you know."</p> +<p>"But we are friends, pals. I ask you, as a great favour, to be +sensible, and––"</p> +<p>"I asked you as a great favour not to go up Mont Blanc. Things +happen. I have a feeling that something might happen to you. I +should be—wretched while you were gone. I couldn't sit still +under the suspense, feeling as I do. So I would follow your +example."</p> +<p>"There'd be no danger for me. There might be death for you."</p> +<p>"Well, then, you can save my life if you like, by not going. If +you don't go, I won't."</p> +<p>"Of all the brutal tyrants who have tyrannised over +mankind––"</p> +<p>"I heard you say once that you would like to have been a +professional tyrant. Why shouldn't I qualify for the part?"</p> +<p>"You are cruel to put me in such a position."</p> +<p>"You are cruel to make me do it, for your own selfish +amusement."</p> +<p>"By Jove! You talk like an exacting woman!"</p> +<p>The blood rushed to his face so hotly that it forced water into +the brilliant eyes of wild-chicory blue.</p> +<p>"If I were a woman I don't think I would be an exacting one. I +should only want people I—liked, to do things because they +cared about me, otherwise favours would be of no value. We're pals, +as you say, great pals, but if you don't care +enough––"</p> +<p>"Oh, hang it all, Kid, I'll give the thing up," I broke in, +crossly. "I'll potter about with you and the Contessa in Chamounix, +and take some nice, pretty, proper walks. But all the same, you're +a little brute."</p> +<p>"Do you hate me?"</p> +<p>"Not precisely. But if I stop down here, Satan will certainly +find mischief for my idle hands to do. I shall try to take your +Contessa away from you, perhaps."</p> +<p>"Oh, will you? Then I shall try to keep her; and we shall see +which is the better man."</p> +<p>He rose from the table with a little swagger, ruffling it gaily +in his triumph over me; and so young, so small he seemed, to be +boasting of his manhood and his prowess in the warfare of love, +that I burst out laughing.</p> +<p>"Come on," I said, "let's go and have a look round Chamounix, +since there's no better sport to be had."</p> +<p>So we strolled out of the <i>vaste parc avec chamois</i> into +the streets of the gay and charming little town, lying like a +bright crystal at the foot of Mont Blanc. Round each of several big +telescopes under striped canvas umbrellas, was collected a crowd. +We could guess at what they were looking. "Shall we stop and see +that piteous dark packet lying lonely on the snow?" I asked, +pausing. But the Boy hurried on. "No, no," he said, "I should feel +as if I had been spying on the dead through a keyhole. I want to +buy something at the shops."</p> +<p>"And I want to see the statue of Horace de Saussure, the first +man who ever got to the top of Mont Blanc," said I, with +reproachful meaning in my tone.</p> +<p>The shops were almost as attractive as those of Lucerne, and +gave an air of modernity and civilisation to the little place, +which would have been out of the picture, had it not contrived to +suggest the piquancy of contrast. The Boy spent a hundred francs +for a silver chamois poised upon the apex of a perilous peak of +uncut amethysts, mounted on ebony, and I was witty at the expense +of his purchase, likening it to the white elephant of Instantaneous +Breakfasts et Cie., which I had long ago cast behind me.</p> +<p>"You will be throwing your chamois away in a day or two," I +prophesied, "or sending it back to our landlord to add to his +collection of animals."</p> +<p>"You will see that I shan't throw it away," the Boy returned, +and insisted upon carrying the parcel in his hand, instead of +having it sent from the shop to the hotel. When we had learned +something of the town we sauntered homeward; and seated in the +<i>vaste parc</i> with a novel and a red silk parasol, we found +Gaetà. "Where have you been so early?" she asked.</p> +<p>"To find a burnt-offering for your shrine," said the Boy; and +tearing off the white wrappings, he gave her the silver +chamois.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"><img src= +"images/256.gif" width="300" height="320" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id= +"CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</p> +<h4>The Little Rift within the Lute</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"There comes a mist, and a weeping +rain,<br /></span> <span class="i1">And nothing is ever the same +again;<br /></span> <span style="margin-left: 17em">Alas!" + <br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 12em">—George MacDonald.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>We devoted three days to some exquisite excursions, which more +than half consoled me for sacrificing Mont Blanc to make a tyrant's +holiday, and then decided to push on to Aix-les-Bains, stopping on +the way for a glimpse of Annecy.</p> +<p>The Contessa had planned to go from Chamounix to Aix by rail +with her friends, but she had either fallen in love with our mode +of travelling or pretended it. A hint to the Boy, and Fanny-anny +was placed at her disposal for a ride from Chamounix to Annecy, a +lady's saddle being easily picked up in a town of shops which miss +no opportunities. As for the Baron and Baronessa, it was plain to +see the drift of their minds. So angry were they at the change of +programme, that it would have been a satisfaction to quarrel with +Gaetà, and leave her in a huff. But their devotion to Paolo, +which was almost pathetic, forbade them this form of +self-indulgence. They curbed their annoyance with the bit of +common-sense, though it galled their mouths, and consented to drive +to Annecy in a carriage provided by Gaetà for their +accommodation. They even constrained themselves to be civil to the +Boy and me, though their heavy politeness had the electrical +quality of a lull before a storm. How that storm would break I +could not foresee, but that it would presently burst above our +heads I was sure.</p> +<p>There was no longer a question that Boy was hot favourite in the +race for Gaetà's smiles. There might have been betting on me +for "place," but it would have been foolish to put money on my +chances as winner. The young wretch scarcely gave me a chance for a +word with the Contessa, for if I walked on the left he walked on +the right of her as she rode, his little brown hand on the new +saddle, which had taken the place of the old one sent on to Annecy +by <i>grande vitesse</i>. I would have surrendered, being too lazy +for a struggle, had I not been somewhat piqued by the Boy's +behaviour. He had affected not to care for Gaetà at first, +and had even feigned annoyance at the temporary addition to our +party, while in reality he could have had little genuine wish for +my society, or he would not now betray such eagerness in the game +he was playing. The vague sense of wrong I suffered gave me a wish +for reprisal of some sort, and the only one convenient at the +moment was to prevent the offender from having a clear course. I +found a certain mean pleasure in stirring the Boy to jealousy by +reviving, when I could, some half-dead ember of Gaetà's +former interest in me, and his face showed sometimes that my +assiduity displeased him.</p> +<p>This was encouragement to persevere, and I praised the Contessa +to him when we happened to be alone together. "You have a short +memory it seems," said he. "You told me not so long ago that you'd +been in love with a girl who jilted you. Have you forgotten her +already?"</p> +<p>I winced under this thrust, but hoped that the Boy did not see +it. His stab reminded me that I had found very little time lately +to regret Miss Blantock, now Lady Jerveyson; and Molly Winston's +words recurred to me: "If I could only prove to you that you aren't +and never have been in love with Helen." I had retorted that to +accomplish this would be difficult, and she had confidently replied +that she would engage to do it, if I would "take her prescription." +I had taken her prescription, and—indisputably the wound had +become callous, though I was not prepared to admit that it had +healed. However, if I had ceased actively to mourn the grocer's +triumph, it was not Gaetà who had wrought the magic change. +What had caused it I was myself at a loss to understand, but I did +not wish to argue the matter with the Boy. He was welcome to think +what he chose.</p> +<p>"Hearts are caught in the rebound sometimes, if for once a +proverb can be right," said I evasively; though a few weeks ago, +when Molly had been constantly alluding to her friend +Mercédès, I had told myself that no one could achieve +such a feat with mine.</p> +<p>To this suggestion the Boy made no response, save to tighten his +lips, resolving, I supposed, that if hearts were flying about like +shuttlecocks, his battledore should be ready to catch the +Contessa's.</p> +<p>Our road from Chamounix to Annecy led us past gorges and over +high precipices and among noble mountains, but my mind was no +longer in a condition to receive or retain strong impressions of +natural beauty. I was irritable and "out of myself," vainly wishing +back the days when the Boy and I, undisturbed by feminine society, +had travelled tranquilly, side by side, giving each other thought +for thought.</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Nothing can be as it has +been;<br /></span> <span class="i1">Better, so call it, only not +the same,"<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>Browning said; and so, I feared, it would be after this with +me.</p> +<p>We were all to stay at Annecy for a night and a day, the +Contessa having announced that she and her friends would stop too; +then Gaetà and the others were to go on to Aix-les-Bains by +rail, and the Boy and I were to follow on foot, attended by our +satellites. Later, we were to spend a few days at the Contessa's +villa and get upon our way again, journeying south. But it did not +seem to me that my little Pal and I would ever be as we had been +before, even though we walked from Aix-les-Bains all the way down +to the Riviera shoulder to shoulder. I had the will to be the same, +but he was different now; and though we left Gaetà in the +flesh at her villa, entertaining guests, Gaetà in the spirit +would still flit between us as we went. The Boy would be thinking +of her; I should know that he was thinking of her, and—there +would be an end of our confidences.</p> +<p>The way, though kaleidoscopic with changing beauties, seemed +long to Annecy. By the time that we arrived, after two days' going, +the Contessa had eyes or dimples or laughter for no one but the +Boy. Sometimes he was seized with sudden moods of rebellion against +his new slavery, and was almost rude to her, saying things which +she would not have forgiven readily from another, but the +child-woman appeared to find a keen delight in forgiving him. +Seeing the preference bestowed upon the young American, Paolo's +brother and sister were inclined to make common cause with me.</p> +<p>In the garden of the old-fashioned hotel at Annecy where we all +took up our headquarters, they came and encamped beside me, at a +table near which I sat alone, smoking, after our first dinner in +the place. A moment later Gaetà passed with the Boy, pacing +slowly under the interlacing branches of the trees.</p> +<p>"I believe that youth to be a fortune-hunter!" exclaimed the +thin, dark Baron.</p> +<p>"You're wrong there," said I, "he's very rich."</p> +<p>"At all events, it is ridiculous, this flirtation," exclaimed +the plump Baronessa. "He is a mere child. Gaetà is making a +fool of herself. You are her friend. You should see this and put a +stop to the affair in some way."</p> +<p>"As to that, many women marry men younger than themselves," I +replied, willing to tease the lady, though I could have laughed +aloud at the bare idea of marriage for the Boy. "Still," I went on +more consolingly, "I hardly think it will come to anything serious +between them."</p> +<p>"Ah, if you say that, you little know Gaetà," protested +Gaetà's friend. "She is infatuated—infatuated with +this youth of seventeen or eighteen, whom she insists, to justify +her foolishness, is a year older than he can possibly be. Something +must be done, and soon, or she is capable of proposing to him, if +he pretend to hang back."</p> +<p>"Something will be done, my dear; do not be unnecessarily +excited," said the Baron. "I fear we have not the full sympathy of +Lord Lane."</p> +<p>"If you mean, will I do anything to keep the two apart, I +confess you haven't," I answered. "The Contessa di Ravello is her +own mistress, and I should say if she wanted the moon, it would be +bad for anyone who tried to keep her from getting it."</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a name="i262" id= +"i262"><img src="images/262.jpg" width="700" height="527" alt= +""HERE WE WERE AT ANNECY"." title= +""HERE WE WERE AT ANNECY"." /></a></div> +<p>"We shall see," murmured the Baron, as the Boy had murmured a +few days ago; and behind this hint also I felt that there lurked +some definite plan.</p> +<p>I had been to Aix-les-Bains years before, but it had not then +occurred to me to visit Annecy, so near by. It was the Boy who had +suggested coming, and we had planned excursions up the lake, +looking out on our guide-book maps various spots of historic or +picturesque interest which we should see <i>en route</i>, +especially Menthon, the birthplace of St. Bernard. Now, here we +were at Annecy, and in all the world there could not be a town more +charming. By the placid blue lake—whose water, I am +convinced, would still be the colour of melted turquoises if you +corked it up in a bottle—you could wander along shadowed +paths, strewn with the gold coin of sunshine, through a park of +dells as bosky-green as the fair forest of Arden. In the quaint, +old-fashioned streets of the town you were tempted to pause at +every other step for one more snap-shot. You longed to linger on +the bridge and call up a passing panorama of historic pageants. All +these things the Boy and I would have done, and enjoyed peacefully, +had we been alone, but Gaetà elected to find Annecy "dull." +There was nothing to do but take walks, or sit by the lake, or +drive for lunch to the Beau Rivage, or go out for an afternoon's +trip in one of the little steamers. Beautiful? Oh, yes; but quiet +places made one want to scream or stand on one's head when one had +been in them a day or two. It would be much more amusing at Aix. +There were the Casinos, and the <i>fêtes de nuit</i>, with +lots of coloured lanterns in the gardens, and fireworks, and music; +and then, the baccarat! That was amusing, if you liked, for half an +hour, and when you were bored there was always something else. She +must really get to Aix, and see that the Villa Santa Lucia was in +order. We would promise—promise—<i>promise</i> to +follow at once? We would find our rooms at her villa ready, with +flowers in them for a welcome, and we must not be too long on the +way.</p> +<p>Gaetà left in the evening, the Boy and I seeing her off +at the train; and twelve hours later we started for +Châtelard, Joseph taking us away from the +highroads—which would have been perfect for Molly's +Mercédès—along certain romantic by-paths which +he knew from former journeys. Conversation no longer made itself +between us; we had to make it, and in the manufacturing process I +mentioned my "friends who were motoring."</p> +<p>"They may turn up before long now," I said, "judging from the +plans they wrote of in a letter I had from them at Aosta. It's just +possible that they will pass through Aix. You would like them."</p> +<p>"I have run away from my own friends, and—gone rather far +to do it," said the Boy. "Yet I seem destined to meet other +people's. It was with very different intentions that I set out on +this journey of mine."</p> +<p>"'Journeys end in lovers' meetings,'" I quoted carelessly. +"Perhaps yours will end so."</p> +<p>"I thought I had done with lovers," said the Boy, with one of +his odd smiles.</p> +<p>"You're not old enough to begin with them yet."</p> +<p>"I was thinking of—my sister. Her experience was a lesson +in love I'm not likely to forget soon. Yet sometimes I—I'm +not sure I learned the lesson in the right way. But we won't talk +of that. Tell me about your friends. I'm becoming inured to social +duties now."</p> +<p>"You don't seem to find them too onerous. As for my +friends—they're an old chum of mine, Jack Winston, and his +bride of a few months, the most exquisite specimen of an American +girl I ever met. Perhaps you may have heard of her. She's the +daughter of Chauncey Randolph, one of your millionaires. Look out! +Was that a stone you stumbled over?"</p> +<p>"Yes. I gave my ankle a twist. It's all right now. I daresay my +sister knows your friend."</p> +<p>"I must ask Molly Winston, when I write, or see her. But you've +never told me your sister's name, except that she's called +'Princess.' If I say Miss Laurence––"</p> +<p>"There are so many Laurences. Did you—ever mention in your +letters to—your friends that you were—travelling with +anyone?"</p> +<p>"I haven't written to them since I knew your name, but before +that, I told them there was a boy whom I had met by accident and +chummed up with, just before Aosta. I think I rather spread myself +on a description of our meeting."</p> +<p>"You <i>didn't</i> do that! How horrid of you!"</p> +<p>"Oh, I put it right afterwards, I assure you, in another letter. +I told them that in spite of the bad beginning, we'd become no end +of pals. That we travelled together, stopped at the same hotels, +and—what's the matter?"</p> +<p>"Nothing. My ankle does hurt a little, after all. Shall you go +on in your friends' motor car if you meet them?" He looked up at me +very earnestly as he spoke.</p> +<p>"At one time I thought of doing so, if we ran across each other. +But now that I've got you––"</p> +<p>"Who knows how long we may have each other? Either one of us may +change his plans—suddenly. You mustn't count on me, Lord +Lane."</p> +<p>"Look here," I said crossly, "do speak out. Don't hint things. +Do you mean me to understand that you wish to stop at Aix, +indefinitely, and play out your little comedy of flirtation to its +close?"</p> +<p>"I don't know what I intend to do; now, less than ever," +answered the Boy in a very low voice, the shadow of his long lashes +on his cheeks.</p> +<p>I was too much hurt to question him further, and we pursued our +way in silence, along the lake side, and then up the billowy lower +slopes of the Semnoz. We had showers of rain in the sunshine; and +the long, thin spears of crystal glittered like spun glass, until +dim clouds spread over the bright patches of blue, and the world +grew mistily grey-green.</p> +<p>We had planned long ago, before the spell of the Contessa fell +upon us, to make the journey we were taking now, by way of the +Semnoz, the so-called Rigi of this Alpine Savoy, which is neither +wholly French nor wholly Italian. But we had abandoned the idea +since, in a fine frenzy to keep our promise of rejoining her with +all speed lest she perish alone in the icy disapproval of her +friends. When the mists closed round us, we ceased to regret the +decision, if we had regretted it; for instead of seeing Savoy +spread out beneath us, with its snow mountains and fertile valleys, +lit with azure lakes—as many as the Graces—we should +have been wrapped in cloud blankets.</p> +<p>After a walk of thirty-two kilometres, we came to +Châtelard, and, having known little or nothing of the town, +we were surprised to find that most other people knew of it as a +great centre for excursions. It was almost as unbelievable as that +the places where we lived could possibly go on existing in exactly +the same way during our absence.</p> +<p>"There are actually three hotels, all said to be good," I +remarked, quoting from my guide-book. "To which shall we go?"</p> +<p>The Boy hesitated. "Choose which you like, for yourself," he +replied with a slight appearance of embarrassment. "As for me, I +will make up my mind—later."</p> +<p>I could take this in but one way: as a snub. Evidently he had +selected this fashion of intimating to me the change that +Gaetà's intrusion had worked in our relations. I bit back a +sharp word or two which I might have regretted by-and-bye, and +answered not at all. In consequence of this little passage, +however, the Boy went to one hotel, and I to another, where I put +Joseph up also.</p> +<p>A sense of loneliness was upon me, therefore my conscience +stirred uneasily, and I reproached myself in that of late I had +neglected the affairs of my muleteer. At one time he and I had +conversed at length on such subjects as mules, women, perdition, +and the like; but for many days now our intercourse had consisted +mostly of a "Good morning, Joseph!" "Good morning, Monsieur!"</p> +<p>To-night I sent for him, and enquired whether he had anything to +wish for.</p> +<p>"Ah, Monsieur, there is but one thing for which I ask at +present," he said.</p> +<p>"Anything I can manage, Joseph?"</p> +<p>"I fear not, Monsieur. It is the assurance that the poor young +soul I am trying to lead out of darkness may reach the light before +we have to part."</p> +<p>"Innocentina's?"</p> +<p>"The same, Monsieur."</p> +<p>"You think her conversion within sight?"</p> +<p>"Just round the corner, if I may so express it."</p> +<p>"Yet I hear that she tells her employer she is devoting all her +energies towards saving you from eternal fire. It was her excuse +for letting the bag drop off Souris' back without noticing it, and +for allowing Fanny's saddle to chafe."</p> +<p>"Ah, Monsieur, women are ready with excuses. Do you think I +would permit any preoccupation of mine to interfere with the +well-being of Finois?"</p> +<p>"Even saving a pretty woman's soul? No, Joseph, to do you +justice, I don't. But I warn you, you may not have much more time +before you to finish your good work. Innocentina's employer and I +may part company before long." Though I smiled, I spoke +heavily.</p> +<p>Joseph's melancholy dark face flushed, and the light died out of +his eyes. "Thank you, Monsieur, I will do my best to be quick," +said he, as if it had been a question of saddling Finois, instead +of rescuing a young lady from the clutches of the Scarlet Woman. +Whatever progress he had really been making with Innocentina's +soul, it was clear that she had been getting in some deadly work +upon his honest heart.</p> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER +XX</p> +<h4>The Great Paolo</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Condescension is an excellent thing; but +it is strange<br /></span> <span> how one-sided the pleasure +of it is."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 20em">—R.L. Stevenson.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>After I went to bed that night, I thought long and bitterly of +the Little Pal's defection. Mentally I addressed him as a young +gazelle who had gladdened me with his soft dark eye, only to +withdraw the light of that orb when it was most needed. As he +apparently wished me to understand that, now he was on with +Gaetà, he would fain be off with me, I would take him not +only at his word, but before it. I would make an excuse to avoid +stopping at the Contessa's villa, but would let him revel there +alone in his glory; if one did not count the Di Nivolis.</p> +<p>Next morning we met by appointment at eight o'clock, and tried +to behave as if nothing had happened; but I realised that I would +have been a dead failure as an actor. I was grumpy and glum, and +the coaxing, child-like ways which the Boy used for my beguiling +were in vain. I did not say anything about my change of plans for +Aix, but I brooded darkly upon them throughout the day, my mood +eating away all pleasure in the charming scenery through which we +passed, as a black worm eats into the heart of a cherry.</p> +<p>We had about twenty-nine kilometres to go, and by the time that +the shadows were growing long and blue, we were approaching +Aix-les-Bains. Nature had gone back to the simple apparel of her +youth, here. She was idyllic and charming, but we were not to ask +of her any more sensational splendours, by way of costume, for she +had not brought them with her in her dress-basket. There were near +green hills, and far blue mountains, and certain rocky eminences in +the middle distance, but nothing of grandeur. Poplars marched along +with us on either side, primly on guard, and puritanical, though +all the while their myriad little fingers seemed to twinkle over +the keyboard of an invisible piano, playing a rapid waltz.</p> +<p>Then we came at last into Aix-les-Bains, where I had spent a +merry month during a "long," in Oxford days. I had not been back +since.</p> +<p>Already the height of the season was over, for it was September +now, but the gay little watering-place seemed crowded still, and in +our knickerbockers, with our pack-mule and donkeys, and their +attendants, we must have added a fantastic note to the dance-music +which the very breezes play among tree-branches at light-hearted +Aix.</p> +<p>"Pretty, isn't it?" I remarked indifferently, as we passed +through some of the most fashionable streets.</p> +<p>"Yes, very pretty," said the Boy. "But what is there that one +misses? There's something—I'm not sure what. Is it that the +place looks huddled together? You can't see its face, for its +features. There are people like that. You are introduced to them; +you think them charming; yet when you've been away for a little +while you couldn't for your life recall the shape of their nose, or +mouth, or eyes. I feel it is going to be so with Aix, for me."</p> +<p>The villa which the Contessa had taken for a few weeks before +her annual flitting for Monte Carlo, was on the way to Marlioz, and +we had been told exactly how to find it. Still silent as to my +ultimate intentions, I tramped along with the Boy beside me, Joseph +and Innocentina bringing up the rear. We would know the villa from +the description we had been given, and having passed out of the +town, we presently saw it; a little dun-coloured house, standing up +slender and graceful among trees, like a charming grey rabbit on +the watch by its hidden warren in the woods.</p> +<p>"I'm tired, aren't you?" asked the Boy. "I shall be glad to +rest."</p> +<p>Now was my time. "I shan't be able to rest quite yet," said I, +with a careless air. "I shall see you in, say 'How-de-do' to the +Contessa, and then I must be off to the hotel where I used to stop. +I remember it as delightful."</p> +<p>"Why," exclaimed the Boy blankly, "but I thought—I thought +we were going to stay with the Contessa!"</p> +<p>"You are, but I'm not," I explained calmly. "My friends the +Winstons may very likely turn up at the same hotel" (this was true +on the principle that anything, no matter how unexpected, +<i>may</i> happen); "and if they should, I'd want to be on the spot +to give them a welcome. I wouldn't miss them for the world."</p> +<p>"The Contessa will be disappointed," said the Boy slowly.</p> +<p>"Oh no, I don't think so; and if she is, a little, you will +easily console her."</p> +<p>"If I had dreamed that you wouldn't––" The Boy began +his sentence hastily, then cut it as quickly short.</p> +<p>I opened the gate. We passed in together, Joseph remaining +outside according to my directions, keeping Fanny-anny as well as +Finois, while Innocentina followed the Boy with the +pack-donkey.</p> +<p>A turn in the path brought us suddenly upon a lawn, surrounded +with shrubbery which at first had hidden it from our view. There, +under a huge crimson umbrella, rising flowerlike by its long +slender stem from the smooth-shaven grass, sat four persons in +basket chairs, round a small tea table. Gaetà, in green as +pale as Undine's draperies, sprang up with a glad little cry to +greet us. The Baron and Baronessa smiled bleak "society smiles," +and a handsome, fair young man frankly glared.</p> +<p>Evidently this was the great Paolo, master of the air and ships +that sail therein; and as evidently he had heard of us.</p> +<p>Now I knew what the Baron had meant when he said to his wife: +"Something <i>shall</i> happen, my dear." He had telegraphed a +danger-signal to Paolo, and Paolo had lost not a moment in +responding. This looked as if Paolo meant business in deadly +earnest, where the Contessa was concerned; for how many dinners and +medals must he not have missed in Paris, how many important persons +in the air-world must he not have offended, by breaking his +engagements in the hope of making one here?</p> +<p>He was fair, with a Latin fairness, this famous young man. There +was nothing Saxon or Anglo-Saxon about him. No one could possibly +bestow him—in a guess—upon any other country than his +native Italy. He was thirty-one or two perhaps, long-limbed and +wolfishly spare, like his elder brother, whom he resembled thus +only. He had an eagle nose, prominent red lips, sulky and sensuous, +a fine though narrow forehead under brown hair cut <i>en +brosse</i>, a shade darker than the small, waxed moustache and +pointed beard. His brows turned up slightly at the outer corners, +and his heavy-lidded, tobacco-coloured eyes were bold, insolent, +and passionate at the same time.</p> +<p>This was the man who wished to marry butterfly Gaetà, and +who had come on the wings of the wind, in an airship "shod with +fire," or in the <i>train de luxe</i>, to defend his rights against +marauders.</p> +<p>His look, travelling from me to the Boy, and from the Boy to +Innocentina and meek grey Souris, was so eloquent of contempt +passing words, that I should have wanted to knock the sprawling +flannelled figure out of the basket chair, if I had not wanted +still more to yell with laughter.</p> +<p>He, the Boy and I were like dogs from rival kennels eyeing each +other over, and thinking poorly of the other's points. Paolo di +Nivoli was doubtless saying to himself what a splendid fellow he +was, and how well dressed and famous; also how absurd it really +would be to fear one of us dusty, knickerbockered, thick-booted, +panama-hatted louts, in the tournament of love. The donkey, too, +with its pack, and Innocentina with her toadstool hat, must have +added for the aëronaut the last touch of shame to our +environment.</p> +<p>As for us,—if I may judge the Boy by myself,—we were +totting up against the Italian his stiff crest of hair, for all the +world like a toothbrush, rampant, gules; the smear of wax on the +spikes of his unnecessarily fierce moustache; the ridiculous +pinpoints of his narrow brown shoes; the flaunting newness of his +white flannels: the detestable little tucks in his shirt; his pink +necktie.</p> +<p>In fact, each was despising the other for that on which the +other prided himself.</p> +<p>All this passed in a glance, but the frigid atmosphere grew no +warmer for the introduction hastily effected by Gaetà. To be +sure, the Boy bowed, I bowed, and Paolo bowed the lowest of the +trio, so that we saw the parting in his hair; but three honest +snorts of defiance would have been no more unfriendly than our +courtesies.</p> +<p>Not a doubt that Gaetà felt the electricity in the air, +with the instinct of a woman; but with the instinct of a born +flirt, she thrilled with it. Her colour rose; her warm eyes +sparkled. She was perfectly happy; for—from her point of +view—were there not here three male beings all secretly ready +to fly at one another's throat for love of her; and what can a +spoiled beauty want more?</p> +<p>She covered the little awkwardness with charming tact, for all +her childishness; and then the excuses I made for my defection +caused a diversion. She was so sorry; it was really too bad. I was +going to desert her for other friends. Were not we friends, nice +new friends, so much more interesting than old friends, whom you +knew inside-out, like your frocks or your gloves? But surely, I +would come often, very often to the villa—always for +<i>déjeuner</i> and <i>dîner</i>, till the other +friends arrived, was it not? And I would not try to take Signor Boy +(this was the name she had built on mine for him) away from her and +the dear Baronessa?</p> +<p>I reassured her on this last point, promised everything she +asked, and then got away as quickly as I could, lest I should +disgrace myself by letting escape the wild laughter which I caged +with difficulty. It was arranged that we should all meet that +evening, after dinner, at the Villa des Fleurs, for one of those +<i>fêtes de nuit</i> which Gaetà loved; and then I +turned my back upon the group under the red umbrella, without a +glance for the Boy.</p> +<p>I tramped into the town once more, with Joseph close behind, +leading his own Finois and Innocentina's Fanny, and found my way to +the hotel, in its large shady garden, where coloured lamps were +already beginning to glow in the twilight. Soon I had all the +resources of civilisation at my command: a white-and-gold panelled +suite, with a bath as big as a boudoir, and hot water enough to +make of me a better man (I hoped) than Paolo di Nivoli.</p> +<p>Later I dined on the wide balcony, with flower-fragrance blowing +towards me from the mysterious blue dusk of the garden. I ought, I +said to myself, to be well-contented, for the dinner was excellent, +and the surroundings a picture in aquarelles. Still, I had a vague +sense of something very wrong, such as a well brought up motor car +must feel when it has a screw loose, and can't explain to the +chauffeur. What was it? The Boy's absence? Nonsense; he didn't want +me, rather the contrary. Why should I want him? A few weeks ago I +had not known that he existed. I drank a pint of dry champagne, +iced almost to freezing point; but instead of hardening my heart +against the ex-Brat, to my annoyance the sparkling liquid gradually +but surely produced the opposite effect.</p> +<p>The fragrance of the flowers, the soft wind among the chestnut +trees in the garden, the beauty of the night, all reproached me for +my conduct to the young creature I had abandoned. What use was it +to remind myself that I had merely taken a leaf out of his book, +that I had even played into his hands, as he seemed to desire? The +answer would come that he was a boy, and I a man. No matter what he +had done, I ought not to have left him to flirt with Gaetà +under the jealous eyes of the Italian, who was "a whirlwind, and +caught a woman off her feet."</p> +<p>It was too late now to think of this, for I had refused +Gaetà's invitation to visit at her house, and having done so +I could not ask for another, even if I would. Probably the Boy +would know well enough how far to go, and to protect himself from +consequences when he had reached the limit.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 360px;"><img src= +"images/277.gif" width="360" height="325" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id= +"CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</p> +<h4>The Challenge</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"'Do I indeed lack courage?' inquired Mr. +Archer of himself,<br /></span> <span> 'Courage, ... that does +not fail a weasel or a rat—<br /></span> <span> that is +a brutish faculty?'"<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 21em">—R.L. Stevenson.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>I drank my black coffee and smoked a cigarette. Then, a glance +at my watch told me that it was time to keep the appointment at the +Villa des Fleurs, five minutes' walk from the hotel. I expected the +Contessa's party to be late, but somewhat to my surprise they had +already arrived, and a quick glance showed me that, outwardly at +least, the relations of all were still amicable.</p> +<p>"Signor Boy did not wish to come," said the Contessa to me, "but +I made him. He says that he does not like crowds. Look at him now; +he has wandered far from us already, probably to find some dark +corner where he can forget that there are too many people. But +then, it was sweet of him to come at all, since it was only to +please me."</p> +<p>It was true. The Boy had slipped away from the seats we had +taken near the music. He had gone to avoid me, perhaps, I said to +myself bitterly. I need not have spoiled my dinner with anxiety for +his welfare; he seemed to be taking very good care of himself.</p> +<p>"I was horribly worried at dinner," whispered Gaetà to +me, the light of the fireworks playing rosily over her face. "Those +two—you know of whom I speak—weren't a bit nice to each +other. It was Paolo who began it, of course, saying little, hateful +things that sounded smooth, but had a second meaning; and Signor +Boy is not stupid. He did not miss the bad intention, oh, not he, +and he said other little things back again, much sharper and +wittier than Paolo, who was furious, and gnawed his lip. It was +most exciting."</p> +<p>"Did you try to pour oil on the troubled waters?" I asked.</p> +<p>"I was very pleasant to them both, if that is what you mean, +first to one and then to the other. After dinner, I gave Signor Boy +a rose, and Paolo a gardenia."</p> +<p>"How charming of you," I commented drily. "If that didn't smooth +matters, what could?"</p> +<p>The aëronaut was sitting on Gaetà's left, I on her +right, with the Baronessa next me on the other side, and both were +straining every nerve to hear our confidences, though pretending to +be lost in admiration of the <i>feu d'artifice</i>.</p> +<p>When the Contessa laughed softly, her little dark head not far +from my ear, the Italian sprang up, and walked away, unable to +endure five minutes of Gaetà's neglect. She and I continued +our conversation, though our eyes wandered, mine in search of the +Boy, hers I fancy in quest of the same object.</p> +<p>Soon I caught sight of the slim, youthful figure, in its rather +fantastic evening dress, the becoming dinner-jacket, the Eton +collar, the loosely tied bow at the throat, and the full, black +knickerbocker trousers, like those worn in the days of Henri +Quatre. As I watched it moving through the crowd, and finally +subsiding in a seat under an isolated tree, I saw the boyish form +joined by a tall and manly one. Paolo di Nivoli had followed his +young rival, and presently came to a stand close to the Boy's +chair. He folded his arms, and looked down into the eyes which were +upturned in answer to some word.</p> +<p>We could not see the expression of the two faces. We saw only +that the man and the boy were talking, spasmodically at first, then +continuously.</p> +<p>"I do hope they're not quarrelling," said Gaetà, in the +seventh heaven of delight.</p> +<p>"Of course not," I replied, annoyed at her frivolity. "They are +too sensible."</p> +<p>"Let us make some excuse, and go over to them," she pleaded. "I +am tired of sitting still."</p> +<p>There was nothing for it but to obey her whim. I took her across +the grassy space which divided us from the two under the tree, and +she began to chatter about the fireworks. What did Signor Boy think +of them? Was not Aix a charming place?</p> +<p>But abruptly, in the midst of her babble, Paolo di Nivoli swept +her away from the Boy and me, in his best "whirlwind" manner, which +doubtless thrilled her with mingled terror and delight.</p> +<p>"Nice night, isn't it?" I remarked brilliantly.</p> +<p>"Yes," said the Boy.</p> +<p>"Did the Contessa give you a good dinner?"</p> +<p>"No—yes—that is, I didn't notice."</p> +<p>"Perhaps that was natural."</p> +<p>The Boy did not answer, but I heard him swallow hard. He was on +his feet now, having risen at Gaetà's coming, and he stood +kicking the grass with the point of his small patent-leather toe. +Then, suddenly, he looked up straight into my face, with big +dilated eyes.</p> +<p>"What's the matter?" I asked, when still he did not speak.</p> +<p>"Oh, Man, I'm in <i>the most awful scrape</i>."</p> +<p>"What's up?"</p> +<p>"I should be thankful to tell you about it, and get your advice, +if—you were like you used to be."</p> +<p>"It's you who have changed, not I."</p> +<p>"No, it's you."</p> +<p>"Don't let's dispute about it. Tell me what's the trouble. Has +that bounder been cheeking you?"</p> +<p>"Worse than that. He said things that made me angry, +and—then I checked him."</p> +<p>"Just now—under this tree?"</p> +<p>"It began at dinner, a little. But the particular thing I'm +speaking of happened here. I couldn't stand it, you know."</p> +<p>"What did he say?"</p> +<p>"He asked me how old I was, at first—in <i>such</i> a +tone! I answered that I was old enough to know my way about, I +hoped. He said he should have thought not, as I travelled with my +nurse. Then he wanted to know what was in Souris' pack, whether I +carried condensed milk for my nursing-bottle. It was all I could do +to keep from boxing his ears, before everyone, but I kept still, +and laughed a little; presently I answered in a drawling sort of +way, saying I needn't tell him that what Souris carried was no +affair of his, because when I came to think of it, after all it was +quite natural that a great donkey should be interested in a small +one."</p> +<p>"By Jove, you little fire-eater!"</p> +<p>"Well, I had to show him that I was an American, anyhow."</p> +<p>"I suppose he was annoyed."</p> +<p>"He was very much annoyed. Man, he's challenged me to fight a +duel. Only think of it, a real duel! He said I'd have to fight, or +he'd thrash me for a coward. I—it's a horrid scrape, but I +don't see how I'm going to get out of it with—with honour. +Will you—if I do have to—but look here, I won't have +him running me through with a <i>sword</i>, or anything of that +sort. I'm afraid I couldn't face that. I wouldn't mind a revolver +quite as much."</p> +<p>"The big bully!" I exclaimed. "But of course it's all rot. There +can be no question of your fighting him."</p> +<p>"I don't know. I'd rather do that—if we could have +pistols—than have him think an American—could be a +coward. I'm not a coward, I hope, only—only I never thought +of anything like this. He's going to send a friend of his to call +on you, as a friend of mine, he said. I suppose that means a +what-you-may-call-'em—a 'second,' doesn't it? If I must fight +with him, Man, you will be my second, won't you, and—and act +for me, if that's the right word?"</p> +<p>Gazing up earnestly, his eyes very big, his face pale, he looked +no more than fourteen, and the idea of a duel to the death between +this child and Gaetà's whirlwind would have been comic in +the extreme, had I not been enraged with the whirlwind.</p> +<p>"I'll be your friend, and get you out of the scrape," I said. +"But it will mean that you must give up the Contessa."</p> +<p>"Give up the Contessa!" echoed the Boy. "What do <i>I</i> want +with the Contessa! I'm sick of the sight of her."</p> +<p>"Since when?"</p> +<p>"Since the first day we met. I don't think she's even pretty. +What you can see in her, I don't know—the silly little +giggling thing! There, it's out at last."</p> +<p>"What I see in her?" I repeated. "I like that."</p> +<p>"I always supposed you did. But I can't <i>stand</i> her."</p> +<p>"Well, of all the–– Look here, why have you been +hanging after her, if you––"</p> +<p>"I didn't. I just wasn't going to let you make a fool of +yourself over her, and then regret it afterwards. So I—I did +my best to take her attention away from you, and I succeeded fairly +well. It—vexed me to see you falling in love with her. She +wasn't worth it."</p> +<p>"There was never the remotest chance of my doing so."</p> +<p>"You said there was."</p> +<p>"I was chaffing, just to hear myself talk. I should have thought +you would know that."</p> +<p>"How could I know? You were always saying how pretty and dainty +she was, and quoting poetry about her, while all the time I could +read her shallow little mind, and see how different she was from +what you imagined."</p> +<p>"I think I have a fairly clear idea of her limitations."</p> +<p>"But you told me that you'd planned to go down to Monte Carlo +expressly to see the Contessa; and you said that it would perhaps +be a wise thing for you to try and fall in love with her."</p> +<p>"If a man has to try and fall in love with a woman, he's pretty +safe. You and I seem to have been playing at cross purposes, +youngster. You thought I was in danger of falling in love, and I +thought you were already in."</p> +<p>"You <i>couldn't</i> have believed it, really."</p> +<p>"I did, and supposed you wanted me out of the way."</p> +<p>"I was thinking the same thing about you. You did seem jealous +and sulky."</p> +<p>"I was both; but it was because our friendship had been +interfered with, Little Pal."</p> +<p>"Oh, Man, do you really mean that?"</p> +<p>"Every word of it. I wouldn't give up a talk with you for a kiss +from the Contessa, of which, by the way, I'm very unlikely to have +the chance. But you––"</p> +<p>"I've been miserable for the last few days. I—I missed +you, Man."</p> +<p>"And I you, Boy."</p> +<p>"What an awful pity it is I've got to stand up and be shot, just +as we're good friends again, and everything's all right!"</p> +<p>"You've got to do nothing of the sort. <i>Le cher</i> Paolo +will, if he is really in earnest and not bluffing, send his friend +to me, and matters will be settled, never fear."</p> +<p>"I don't fear. At least, I—hope I don't—much. Only I +wasn't brought up to expect challenges to duels. They're +not—in my line. But I won't apologise, whatever happens. No, +I won't, I won't, <i>I won't</i>. I dare say it doesn't hurt much, +being shot; and I suppose he wouldn't be so—so impolite as to +shoot me in the face, would he?"</p> +<p>"He is not going to shoot you anywhere," said I.</p> +<p>"I am glad I told you. I was feeling—rather queer. What am +I to do? Am I to go back to the villa as if nothing had happened, +or—what?"</p> +<p>"'What' might mean coming to my hotel, but you seemed to find my +society a bore."</p> +<p>"That's unkind. It was your own fault that I went to a different +hotel at Châtelard."</p> +<p>"How do you make that out?"</p> +<p>"I can't tell you. I don't suppose you'll ever know. But if you +should guess, by-and-bye, remembering something you once said, you +might understand."</p> +<p>"Something I once said––"</p> +<p>"Never mind. Please don't talk of it. I'd rather be shot at. But +I want you to believe that my reason wasn't the one you thought. +Now, tell me what you're going to do about Signor di Nivoli. Have +you made a plan?"</p> +<p>"One has popped into my head," I replied. "It mayn't answer, but +will you give me <i>carte blanche</i> to try? If it doesn't work, +I'll get you out of the mess in another way. But this would give us +a chance of making Paolo eat humble pie."</p> +<p>"Do try it, then. I'd risk a lot for that."</p> +<p>"As for to-night, on the whole I think the best thing will be +for you to go back to the villa. Of course we mustn't let the +Contessa suspect––"</p> +<p>"Little cat! I wouldn't give her the satisfaction."</p> +<p>"Upon my word, you're not very gallant."</p> +<p>"I don't care. I'm sick of the Contessa. A plague upon her, and +all her houses. Yet, I wish her nothing worse than that she should +marry Paolo. Ugh! A man with his hair <i>en brosse</i>!"</p> +<p>"Probably he is saying, 'Ugh! a boy with curls on his +collar.'"</p> +<p>"May one of his old balloons fly away with him, before he shoots +me. Anyhow, he shall find that curls don't make a coward. +Only—there's just one thing before you treat with him. I +won't—I <i>can't</i>—be jabbed at with anything +sharp."</p> +<p>"You shan't," said I.</p> +<p>With this, the Contessa beckoned from a distance, with news that +she was going home. We followed, the Boy and I, allowing her to +walk far ahead, with her triumphant aëronaut, the Baron and +Baronessa, radiant with satisfaction in the success of their plot, +arm in arm between the two couples.</p> +<p>Having seen my little Daniel to the gate of the Lions' Den, I +shook hands cordially with everybody, Paolo last of all. He placed +his fingers with haughty reluctance in my ostentatiously proffered +palm, but I held the four chilly, fish-like things (chilly only for +me) long enough to mutter, <i>sotto voce</i>: "I want a word with +you on a matter of importance. I'll walk up and down the road for +twenty minutes."</p> +<p>His impulse was to refuse, I could see by the sharp upward toss +of his chin. But a certain quality in my look, clearly visible to +him in the light of the gate lamp (I was at some pains to produce +the effect), warned him that if his bloodthirsty plans were not to +be nipped in the red bud, he must bend his will to mine in this one +instance.</p> +<p>He answered with a glance, and I knew that I should not be kept +long on my beat.</p> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id= +"CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</p> +<h4>An American Custom</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Oh, have it your own way; I am too old a +hand to argue<br /></span> <span> with young gentlemen, ... I +have too much experience,<br /></span> <span> thank +you."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 21em">—R.L. Stevenson.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>Five minutes, ten minutes passed, after the farewells. Then, as +I sauntered by on the other side of the way, I heard the sound of a +foot on gravel, and Paolo di Nivoli appeared under the gate light. +There he paused, expecting me to cross to him, but I allotted him +the part of Mahomet and selected for myself that of the Mountain. +Shrugging his square shoulders, he came striding over the road to +me; and I had scored one small victory. I hoped that I might take +it for an omen.</p> +<p>"I do not understand the nature of this appointment, Monsieur," +began the Italian. "I intended to send my friend Captain de Sales +to you to––"</p> +<p>"Ah, yes, that is the Continental way in these little affairs," +I ventured to interrupt him coolly. "On our side of the Channel we +are rather ignorant on such matters, I fear. But my young friend +Mr. Laurence is an American."</p> +<p>"Do you mean that he will refuse to fight, after insulting me?" +asked Paolo, bristling.</p> +<p>"Not at all. He is very young, and this will be his first duel. +He may have misunderstood your intentions. But I gathered from him +that you had said he would have to fight; that you then requested +him to name a friend to whom you could send a friend of +yours––"</p> +<p>"This is the fact. There was no misunderstanding. He named +you."</p> +<p>"Yes; but as I said, he is an American."</p> +<p>"What of that, since he will fight?"</p> +<p>"As a duellist yourself, no doubt a successful one, you must be +aware that such matters are conducted differently in the +States."</p> +<p>"I know nothing of that. I know only our own ways, which are +good enough for me."</p> +<p>"But my friend, being the challenged party, has the right, I +believe, to choose the manner of duel."</p> +<p>"That will be arranged between you and my friend, according to +the choice of Mr. Laurence."</p> +<p>"I must ask you to go slowly, just at this point. In the States, +it is against the duelling code to have the details arranged by the +friends of the principals. It is the principals themselves who do +all that, and for the best of reasons. But as Mr. Laurence is a +boy, and you are a man, it is but right that I should speak with +you for him. You needn't send Captain de Sales to me. We are man to +man, and in ten minutes we can have everything settled with +fairness to both parties."</p> +<p>"This is a new idea, Monsieur, and I confess it does not commend +itself to me," said Paolo.</p> +<p>"I suppose, however, you are anxious to fight?"</p> +<p>"<i>Sacré bleu</i>, but yes. The little jackanapes called +me a donkey, and he had the impudence to allude to my invention as +a 'balloon,' adding that there was little to choose between it and +my head. <i>Ciel!</i> Do I wish to fight?"</p> +<p>"Then, as you must grant him the privileges of the challenged +party, I fear there is only one way of carrying this thing through. +He is patriotic to a fault, and he will fight in the American +fashion or not at all. I must say this is to the credit of his +courage, as there is to me, an Englishman, something appalling +about the method. I trust that I'm not a coward, yet it would take +all my nerve to face such an ordeal. No doubt, however, with the +fiery Latin races it is different."</p> +<p>"I shall be glad of your explanation, Monsieur. What is this +method of which you speak?"</p> +<p>"There are several small variations; there are the bits of +paper; there are the matches; there are the beans of different +size."</p> +<p>"I am more in the dark than ever."</p> +<p>"My friend proposes the bits of paper. Two are taken, exactly +resembling each other, except in length. Both are placed inside a +book, with an end, say an inch long, sticking out. You and Mr. +Laurence draw simultaneously, that there can be no question of +cheating. The one who draws the long bit lives—the other +stands up to be shot, without defending himself."</p> +<p>"<i>Mon Dieu</i>, how horrible! I would never submit to such a +barbarous test. That is not a duel, it is murder."</p> +<p>I shrugged my shoulders as gracefully, I flatter myself, as +Paolo himself could have done it. But for the moment Paolo was in +no shoulder-shrugging mood. His very crest—it seemed to +me—was drooping.</p> +<p>"Nevertheless," said I, "that is the American idea of a duel, as +practised in the best society. My friend is a member of the Four +Hundred, and should it become known that he had been killed in an +old-fashioned, butcherly duel, his memory would be disgraced."</p> +<p>"But what about my memory?" demanded Paolo, with open palms. +"Monsieur does not appear to think of that."</p> +<p>"It was not on my mind. I am acting for my friend. You have +challenged a boy, a mere child, to fight you to the death. He very +pluckily accepts your challenge. There are those who would think +that you had done a brutal, even a cowardly thing, in putting a +youth of seventeen or eighteen into such a position. Then, surely +your most lenient friends would say that the least you could do +would be to give the child his right of choice in weapons. Very +well; he chooses two bits of paper of different lengths."</p> +<p>Paolo shuddered. "I will not consent," he said, swallowing hard, +after a moment's reflection.</p> +<p>"Very well. You have had my friend's ultimatum. Am I to tell him +that this is yours?"</p> +<p>"It is not fair!" he exclaimed. "Monsieur Laurence has his +friend to act for him. As yet, I have no one."</p> +<p>"He is eighteen at most. You are—perhaps thirty. Still, if +you insist, I will see Captain de Sales, tell him my principal's +idea, and perhaps he will be more fortunate in inducing you to +consent––"</p> +<p>"No, no," cried the Italian quickly. "I would not have him or +anyone know of this monstrous proposal. I should never hear the end +of it, and there would be a thousand versions of the story."</p> +<p>I was not surprised at this decision on his part. Indeed, I had +expected it with confidence.</p> +<p>"You will not reconsider?" I asked nonchalantly.</p> +<p>"Jamais de la vie!"</p> +<p>"Then the duel is off."</p> +<p>Paolo swore.</p> +<p>I smiled; but he did not see the smile. I was careful that he +should not.</p> +<p>"I consider that you and your principal have taken an unfair +advantage."</p> +<p>"That is between you and me. If you care to raise the +question––"</p> +<p>"I have no quarrel with you."</p> +<p>"Then you and Mr. Laurence must treat the misunderstanding of +this evening as if it had not been. This will not be difficult, as +he will go with me on an excursion to-morrow, now that +his—er—engagement with you is off; and the day after, +he and I think of leaving Aix altogether, by way of Mont +Revard."</p> +<p>This plan arranged itself spontaneously; but as the Boy had +ungallantly called Gaetà "a little cat," and I was slightly +<i>blasé</i> of her dimples, I thought that I might count +upon its being carried out.</p> +<p>"What—he will go away?" exclaimed Paolo, all at once a +different man. "He will leave Aix altogether, you say?"</p> +<p>"Yes. You see, we are on our way south. Mr. Laurence merely +wanted a glance at Aix <i>en route</i>, and the Contessa was kind +enough to invite him to her house. It was really nice of her, as he +is such a boy."</p> +<p>"You think so? Yes—perhaps. Well, I consent on these terms +to forget. You may tell your principal what I have said."</p> +<p>"I will," I returned. "He will be guided by me, and forget also; +though I assure you, like most of his countrymen, he is a +fire-eater—a fire-eater."</p> +<p>This time it was Paolo who volunteered to shake hands.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"><img src= +"images/292.gif" width="300" height="201" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id= +"CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</p> +<h4>There is No Such Girl</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"She has forgotten my kisses, and +I—have forgotten her name."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" +style="margin-left: 25em">—A.C. Swineburne.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>I went early in the morning to the villa with the intention of +culling the Boy like a wayside flower, and carrying him off to the +lake. The hour was unearthly for a morning call, and the windows +were still asleep, but I was spared the necessity of raising the +echoes with an untimely peal of the bell. Under the red umbrella +lounged the Boy, reading with the appearance, at least, of +nonchalance. For all he could tell, I might have failed in my +mission, and have come to announce the hour fixed for deadly +combat; but he was not even pale. Indeed, I had never seen him +rosier, or brighter-eyed.</p> +<p>I sat down on the rustic seat beside him, and with a glance at +the veiled windows of the villa, I remarked in a low voice, "It's +all right."</p> +<p>"That goes without saying."</p> +<p>"Why?"</p> +<p>"Because you promised."</p> +<p>"Thanks for the compliment. Have you had your <i>café au +lait</i>?"</p> +<p>"No. I got up early, and thought of walking round to your hotel +to see you, but decided I wouldn't."</p> +<p>"I half expected you."</p> +<p>"I didn't want to seem too—importunate. I hoped you'd come +here."</p> +<p>"Like a promising child, I've justified your hopes. Let's walk +down to the Grand Port, to a garden restaurant I remember; and over +our coffee, I'll tell you the story of my diplomatic <i>coup</i>. +Meanwhile, we'll discuss Shakespeare and the musical glasses."</p> +<p>"Anything but the Contessa," said the Boy, springing up, and +cramming his panama over his curls. "I shall breathe more freely on +the other side of the gate, and I shan't consider myself out of the +scrape until I'm out of her house for good."</p> +<p>In the street he drew fuller breaths, and with each yard of +distance that we put between ourselves and the villa his eyes grew +brighter and his step more airy.</p> +<p>I unfolded my plan for the morning, which was to take a trip up +the lake to the Abbey of Hautecombe, and return in time for +<i>déjeuner</i>, since, as a guest of the Contessa, the Boy +could scarcely absent himself all day without conspicuous rudeness. +"You'll have to be tied to the lady's apron strings, if she wants +you knotted there, for the afternoon," said I. "But I'm going to +have a telegram from my friends to meet them on the top of Mont +Revard to-morrow, so if you want an excuse––"</p> +<p>"What, your friends the Winstons?" he broke in, with one of the +sudden flaming blushes that made him seem so young.</p> +<p>"Yes, why not?"</p> +<p>"They are coming to join you?"</p> +<p>"I told you they might turn up at any moment, +and––"</p> +<p>"And now the moment has arrived. Then it has also arrived for us +to say good-bye."</p> +<p>"Do you mean that?"</p> +<p>"Oh, don't think me ungrateful—or ungracious. I'm neither. +But, in any case, we must sooner or later have reached the parting +of the ways. You are bound to Monte Carlo. I have—the vaguest +plans."</p> +<p>"I thought you said that your sister might be going there with +friends."</p> +<p>"But my sister and I are—very different persons."</p> +<p>"Surely you would wish to meet her there?"</p> +<p>"It's rather undecided at present, anyhow," returned the Boy, +his eyes bent on the ground as we walked, our steps less sprightly +now. "There's only one thing settled, which is, that I can't go +with you up Mont Revard to meet—people."</p> +<p>"There isn't the slightest chance of my meeting anyone there, +friend Diogenes," I began. "I was only waiting for you to give me +time to explain, since you're inclined to be obtuse, the difference +between sending a telegram to yourself, and––"</p> +<p>"Oh, I see. You aren't going to meet a soul on Mont Revard?"</p> +<p>"Not even an astral body—by appointment. And the plan was +made for your deliverance. Rather hard lines that you should kick +at it."</p> +<p>He looked up, laughing and merry once more. "I won't kick again. +Man, you are—well, you're different from other men. Yes, from +every other man I've ever met."</p> +<p>"Am I to take that as praise?"</p> +<p>He nodded, his big eyes sending blue rays into mine.</p> +<p>"Thanks. Best man you ever met?"</p> +<p>Another nod, and more colour in his cheeks.</p> +<p>"Good enough to be introduced to your sister?"</p> +<p>"Good enough—even for that."</p> +<p>"What if I should fall in love with her?"</p> +<p>The Boy straightened his shoulders, after a slight start of +surprise, and seemed to pull himself together. For a moment he was +silent, as we walked on under the close-growing plane trees which +lined the long, straight road to the Grand Port. Then at last he +said, "You wouldn't."</p> +<p>"How can you tell that?"</p> +<p>"Because—she isn't—your style."</p> +<p>"You don't know my 'style' of girl."</p> +<p>"Oh, yes, I do. Don't you remember a talk we had, the first day +we were friends? We told each other a lot of things. I can see that +girl; the girl who—who––"</p> +<p>"Jilted me," I supplied. "Don't hesitate to call a spade a +spade."</p> +<p>"A lovely, angelic-looking creature, typically English; golden +hair; skin like cream and roses."</p> +<p>"The type has palled upon me," said I. "I know now that Molly +Winston—my friend's wife—was right. I never really +loved that girl. It was her popularity and my own vanity that I was +in love with."</p> +<p>"Are you sure?"</p> +<p>"As sure as that I'm starving for my breakfast. If the young +lady—she's married now, and I wish her all +happiness—should appear before me at the end of this street, +and sob out a confession of repentance for the past, it wouldn't in +the least affect my appetite. I should tell her not to mind, and +hurry on to join you at the corner."</p> +<p>"You would have forgotten by that time that there was a Me."</p> +<p>"I can't think of anyone or anything at the moment which would +make me forget that," said I.</p> +<p>"The Contessa?"</p> +<p>"Not she, nor any other pretty doll."</p> +<p>"An earthquake, then?"</p> +<p>"Nor an earthquake: for I should probably occupy myself in +trying to save your life. To tell the honest truth, Little Pal, +you've become a confirmed habit with me, and I confess that the +thought of finishing this tramp without you gave me a distinct +shock, when you flung it at my head. If you were open to the idea +of adoption, I think I should have to adopt you, you know: for, now +that I've got used to seeing you about, it seems to me that, as +certain advertisements say of the articles they recommend, no home +would be complete without you. But there's your sister; she would +object to annexation."</p> +<p>The Boy was busily kicking fallen leaves as he walked. "You +might ask her—if you should ever see each other."</p> +<p>"Make her meet you at Monte Carlo, and introduce us there. I'll +tell you what I'll do. I'll give a dinner at the Hôtel de +Paris—the night after we arrive. It shall be in your hands, +and of course your sister's, who ought to know your pal. You must +try hard to get her to come. Is it a bargain?"</p> +<p>"I can't answer for her."</p> +<p>"But I only ask you to try your hardest. Come now, when I've +told you about last night, you'll say I deserve a reward."</p> +<p>"Yes, I'll try."</p> +<p>"But, by Jove, I'd forgotten that your sister is an heiress," I +went on. "I've vowed not to fall in love with a girl who has a lot +of money."</p> +<p>"I told you that you wouldn't fall in love with her."</p> +<p>"Is she like you?"</p> +<p>"A good many people think so. That's why I'm so sure she +wouldn't be the sort of girl you'd care for—you, a man who +admires the English rose type or—a Contessa."</p> +<p>"The Contessa was your affair. For me, a woman of her type could +never be dangerous. Whereas, a girl like your +sister––"</p> +<p>"Still harping on my sister!"</p> +<p>"I often think of her as 'The Princess.' It's a pretty name. I +fancy it suits her. Once or twice, since we've been chums, you have +had letters, I know. I hope you've better news of her?"</p> +<p>"She's cured in body and mind. It is—rather a queer +coincidence, perhaps, for like you, she has found out, so she tells +me—that she wasn't really in love with—the man. She was +only in love with love."</p> +<p>"I'm heartily glad. If she's as true and brave a little soul, as +glorious a pal as you are, she will one day make some fellow the +happiest man alive."</p> +<p>The Boy did not answer. Perhaps he was overwhelmed with the +indirect praise suddenly heaped upon him; perhaps he thought that I +spoke too freely of the Princess his sister. I was not sure, +myself, that I had not gone beyond good taste; but calling up the +picture of a girl, resembling in character the Little Pal, had +stirred me to sudden enthusiasm. Fancy a girl looking at one with +such eyes! a girl capable of being such a companion. It would not +bear thinking of. There could be no such girl.</p> +<p>I was glad that, at this moment, we arrived at the Grand Port, +and the garden restaurant, where my regrets for the light that +never was on land or sea—or in a girl's eyes—were +temporarily drowned in <i>café au lait</i>.</p> +<p>The talk was no more of the unseen Princess, but of Paolo. At +last I condescended to enter into a detailed account of the night's +happenings, where the aëronaut was concerned, and the Boy +threw up his chin, showing his little white teeth in a burst of +laughter at my manœuvre. "But that <i>isn't</i> an American +duel," he objected, still rippling with mirth. "You commit suicide, +you know. The man who draws the short bit of paper agrees to go +quietly off and kill himself decently somewhere, before the end of +a stipulated time."</p> +<p>"I'm aware of that, but I gambled on Paolo's ignorance of the +custom," said I. "I flattered myself that I'd totted up his +character like a sum on a slate, and I acted on the estimate I +formed. If I had kept entirely to facts, without giving the rein to +my imagination, you might now be doomed to travel at this time next +year to Buda-Pesth, and there drown yourself in the largest +possible vat of beer. Had Paolo been unlucky in the matter of +getting the short bit of paper, a little thing like that wouldn't +have bothered him much. He would simply have gone off for a long +trip in his newest air-ship, and conveniently forgotten such an +obscure engagement. It was the thought of standing up defenceless, +to be artistically potted at by you, that turned his heart to +water."</p> +<p>"I believe you're right, and anyway, you are very clever," said +the Boy. "What does one do for a man who has saved one's life?"</p> +<p>"If you were only a girl, now—a Princess in a fairy +story—you would bestow upon me your hand," I replied gaily. +"As it is—I can't at the moment think of a punishment to fit +the crime."</p> +<p>"Though I can't be a Princess, I might play the Prince, and give +you a ring," he said, pulling at the queer seal ring he always +wore.</p> +<p>"But it wouldn't fit the crime—I mean the finger."</p> +<p>"Mere mortals never argue when the fairy Prince makes them a +present. Do take the ring. I should like you to have it +to—remember me by."</p> +<p>"To remember you by? But such chums as we have got to be don't +give memory much pull; they arrange to see each other often."</p> +<p>"Fairy Princes vanish sometimes, you know."</p> +<p>"If I take your ring, will you appear if I rub it?"</p> +<p>The Boy was smiling, but his eyes looked grave. "If when the +Fairy Prince has vanished—that is, if he +<i>should</i>—you want to see him really badly, try rubbing +the ring. It might work. But you'll probably lose the ring before +that—and the memory."</p> +<p>I answered by hooking the ring, which was far too small for the +least of my fingers, into the spring-loop which held my watch on +its chain.</p> +<p>"My watch and I are one," I said. "Only burglary or death can +separate me from the ring now; and if I'm smashed next time Jack +Winston lets me drive his motor car, there will probably be a +romantic little paragraph in the papers—perhaps even a +pathetic verse—about the ring on the dead man's watch-chain, +which will give you every satisfaction."</p> +<p>"The boat's whistling," said the Boy. "We'd better run, if we +want to see the Abbey of Hautecombe before lunch."</p> +<p>We did run, and caught the boat in that uncertain and exciting +manner which brings into play a physical appurtenance unrecognised +by science, <i>i.e.</i>, the skin of the teeth. Under the awning +which shaded the deck, we took the only two seats not occupied by +an abnormally large German family,—abnormally large +individually as well as collectively,—and settled ourselves +for half an hour's enjoyment of a charming water-panorama.</p> +<p>"What a heavenly place Aix is!" exclaimed the Boy fervently. +"I'm so glad I came."</p> +<p>"I thought yesterday that you were disappointed in the +place."</p> +<p>"Oh, yesterday was yesterday. To-day's to-day. How glorious +everything is, in the world. I do love living. And I like everybody +so much. What nice, good creatures one's fellow beings are. My +heart warms to them. I don't believe anybody's really horrid, +through and through. I should like to pat somebody on the +shoulder."</p> +<p>"Queer thing; I feel exactly the same way this morning," said I. +"Shall we throw ourselves on one another's bosom, and kiss each +other on both cheeks, German fashion, to show our good will towards +all mankind? I'm sure our travelling companions would warmly +sympathize with our <i>schwärmerei</i>."</p> +<p>"No-o, perhaps we'd better not risk setting them the example, +for fear they should follow it."</p> +<p>"Then let's shake hands."</p> +<p>He put out his little slim brown paw, and I seized it with such +heartiness that he visibly winced, but not a squeak did the pain +draw from him; and the large Germans, looking on gravely, no doubt +thought that, according to some queer English rite, we had +registered an important vow.</p> +<p>Really the world was a nice place that day, though I might not +have noticed it so much if the Boy and I had been still at +loggerheads.</p> +<p>Yesterday, as we entered Aix, I had said to myself that the +mountains surrounding the town had descended to depths of dumpy +ugliness unworthy the name and dignity of mountains. I had +formulated the idea that there should be world landscape-gardeners +appointed, to work on a grand scale, and alter hills or mountains +which Nature had neglected or bungled. But to-day, as we steamed +down the long, narrow Lac de Bourget, sitting shoulder to shoulder, +the light breeze fluttering butterfly-wings against our faces, I +could not see that there was anything for the most fastidious taste +to alter, anywhere.</p> +<p>As the lake at Annecy had been incredibly blue, this lake was +incredibly green. No weekly penny paper in England, even in its +fattest holiday number, would have room enough to compute the vast +number of emeralds which must have been melted to give that vivid +tint to the sparkling water. It was as easy to see the inhabitants +of the lake having their luncheon at the bottom, on tables +exquisitely decorated with coloured pebbles, as it is to look in +through the plate-glass window of a restaurant. As our course +changed, the mountains girdling the lake and filling in the +perspective, grouped themselves in graceful attitudes, like +professional beauties sitting for their photographs. There were +châteaux dotted here and there on the hillside, and I no +longer peopled them with myself and Helen Blantock. I realised that +if one had a palace on the Lake of Como or Bourget, or any other +romantic sheet of water, one could be happy as an elderly bachelor, +if one's days were occasionally enlivened by visits from congenial +friends, such as the Winstons and the Boy. No wonder that Lamartine +was happy at Chatillon, writing his Meditations! I felt that a long +residence on the shores of the Lac de Bourget would inspire me to +some modest meditations of my own, and I could even have taken down +a few memoranda for them, had I not feared that the Boy would laugh +to see my notebook come out.</p> +<p>I remembered Hautecombe, with its ancient Abbey, deep +cream-coloured, like old ivory or the marbles of the Vatican, +glimmering among dark trees, and mirrored in the lake so clearly +that, gazing long at the reflection, one felt as if standing on +one's head. I pointed it out to the Boy from a distance, on its +jutting promontory, with the pride of the well-informed guide, and +talked of the place with a superficial appearance of erudition. But +after all, when he came to pin me down with questions, my +bubble-reputation burst. Not a date could I pump up from the +drained depths of my recollection, and in the end I had to accept +ignominiously from the Boy such crumbs as he had collected from a +guide-book larder. What was it to us, I contended, that the +monastery was said to have been built in 1125? What did it matter +that it had originally been the home of Cistercians? Why clog one's +mind with such details, since it was enough for all purposes of +romance to know that the old building had weathered many wars and +many centuries, and that a special clause had protected the monks +when Savoie was ceded by Italy to France? The great charm of the +place for me, apart from its natural beauty, lay in the thought +that it was the last home of dead kings, the vanished Princes of +Savoie; I did not want to know the facts of its restoration at +different dates, and would indeed shut my eyes upon all such traces +if I could.</p> +<p>Though the Abbey and its double in the lake had remained a +picture in my mind, through the years since I had seen them, I was +struck anew with the peaceful loveliness of the place as we +approached the little landing-stage. The Kings of Savoie had chosen +well in choosing to sleep their last sleep at Hautecombe.</p> +<p>The Boy and I slowly ascended the deeply shadowed road which led +up the hill to the Abbey, but leisurely as we walked, we soon +outpaced the Germans. For this we were not sorry, since it gave us +the silent grey church to ourselves—and the sleeping Kings. +We bestowed money for his charities upon the white-robed monk who +would have shown us the tombs and the chapels, conscientiously +gabbling history the while; and then, with compliments, we freed +him from the duty. His hard facts would have been like dogs yapping +at our heels, and, as the Boy said, we would not have been able to +hear ourselves think.</p> +<p>We whispered as if fearing to wake the sleepers, as we wandered +from one bed of marble in its dim niche, to another. Never, +perhaps, did so many crowned heads lie under the same roof as at +peaceful Hautecombe, sleeping longer, more soundly far, than the +Princess in her enchanted Palace in the Wood. For centuries the +convent bells have rung, calling the monks to prayer; and sometimes +the walls have trembled with the thunder of cannon: yet the +sleepers have not stirred. There they have lain, those stately, +royal figures, with hands folded placidly on placid bosoms, resting +well after stress and storm.</p> +<p>It was difficult to keep in mind that the real kings and queens +had mouldered into dust under the stone where reposed their +counterfeit presentments. Again and again we had to send away the +impression that we were looking at the actual bodies, transformed +by the slow process of centuries into marble, together with their +guardian lions, their favourite hounds, and their curly lambs.</p> +<p>The endless slumber of these royal men and women of Savoie +seemed magical, mysterious. We felt that, if we but had the secret +of the talisman, we could wake them; that they would slowly rise on +elbow, and gaze at us, stony-eyed, and reproachful for shattering +their dreams.</p> +<p>The murmurous silence of the church whispered broken snatches of +their life stories—not that part which we could read in +history, or see graven in Latin on their tombs, but that part of +which they might choose to dream. Had those knightly men in carven +armour loved the marble ladies lying in stately right of possession +by their sides, or had their fancy wandered to others whose dust +lay now in some far, obscure corner of earth?</p> +<p>If my homage could have compensated in any small degree for +kingly unfaith, a drop of balm would have fallen upon the marble +heart of each royal lady to whom such injustice had perchance been +done; for I loved them all for their noble dignity, and the sweet +femininity which remained to them even under the mask of stone. +Their names alone warmed the blood with the wine of romance: the +Princess Yolande; the Duchess Beatrix; the Lady Melusine. Surely, +with such names and such profiles, they had been worth a man's +living or dying for; and if life had not been so vivid for me that +day, I should have wished myself back in the far past, in heavy, +uncomfortable armour, fighting their battles.</p> +<p>"'Where are all the dear, dead women?'" asked the Boy. "'What's +become of all the gold that used to hang, and brush their +shoulders?' Maybe part of the answer to Browning's question lies in +those tombs."</p> +<p>"They were Princesses, like your sister," said I. "I've been +fancying them with her eyes."</p> +<p>"What do you know about her eyes?" he asked quickly.</p> +<p>"I imagine them like yours."</p> +<p>"Let's get out into the sunshine again," said the Boy. "I'm +afraid it's time to leave the Princesses, and go back to the +Contessa."</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"><img src= +"images/306.gif" width="350" height="350" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id= +"CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</p> +<h4>The Revenge of the Mountain</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Contending with the fretful +elements."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 14em">—Shakespeare.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>It is the early bird which gathers the worm, if the worm has +thoughtlessly got up early too; but it is also the bird which comes +flying from afar off, whatever his engagements elsewhere may be; +the bird which, having come, remains on the spot favoured by the +worm, singing sweet songs to charm it into a mood ripe for the +gathering.</p> +<p>Such a bird was Paolo, and such—but perhaps it would be +more gallant not to carry the simile further, since even poetry +could scarcely license it.</p> +<p>It is enough to say, in proof of the proverb, that when the Boy +and I arrived at the villa in time for <i>déjeuner</i>, to +which I had been invited over night, we found Paolo with +Gaetà, under the red umbrella, unencumbered by any +irrelevant Barons or Baronesses.</p> +<p>Gaetà was looking pale and a little frightened. Her +dimples were in abeyance, as if waiting to learn whether something +had happened to twinkle about, or something which would more likely +extinguish them forever. But the aëronaut might have invented +an air-ship to take the place of ordinary Channel traffic, so great +with pride was he. He appeared to have grown several inches in +height, and to have increased considerably in chest measurement, as +he sprang from his chair to welcome us, as if we had been long-lost +brothers.</p> +<p>"Congratulate me," said he. "The Contessa has just consented to +be my wife."</p> +<p>Gaetà clutched the arm of her rustic seat with a tiny +hand upon which a new ring glittered, like a new star in the +firmament. Her warm dark eyes, eager, expectant, deliciously +fearful, were on the Boy. If the discarded favourite of yesterday +had leaped to the throat of the accepted lover of to-day (her +"Whirlwind"), she would have screamed a silvery little scream and +implored him for <i>her</i> sake to accept the inevitable calmly; +she would have given him a reproachful flash of the eyes, to say, +"Why didn't <i>you</i> take me, instead of letting him carry me +away? What could I do, when you left me alone, at his mercy—I +so frail, he so big and strong?" Her glance would then have +telegraphed to Paolo, "You have won me and my love; you can afford +to spare a defeated rival who is desperate"; and perhaps she might +even have thrown me a crumb for auld flirtation's sake.</p> +<p>But the Boy did not, apparently, feel the least magnetic +attraction towards Paolo's throat, or any other vulnerable part of +the aëronaut's person. Nor did he stamp on the ground, crying +upon earth to open and swallow the master of the air. I, too, kept +an unmoved front; but then, being English, that might have been +pardoned to my national <i>sang-froid</i>. There was, however, no +such excuse for the mercurial young American, and flat +disappointment struck out the spark in Gaetà's eye. The +second act of her little drama seemed doomed to failure.</p> +<p>"<i>Mille congratulations</i>," said the Boy cordially, I basely +echoing him. We shook hands with Gaetà; we shook hands with +Paolo, and something was said about weddings and wedding-cake. Then +the Baron and Baronessa appeared so opportunely as to give rise to +the base suspicion that they had been eavesdropping. More polite +things were mumbled, and we went to luncheon, Gaetà on +Paolo's arm, with a disappointed droop of her pretty shoulders. We +drank to the health and happiness of the newly affianced pair, a +habit which seemed to be growing upon me of late, and might lead me +down the fatal grade of bachelordom. The Boy and I were unable to +conceal, as we ought to have done out of politeness, the fact that +our appetites had sustained the shock of our lady's engagement, and +I saw in her eyes that she could never wholly forgive us, no, not +even if we made love to her after marriage.</p> +<p>"Shall you take your wedding trip in a balloon?" asked the Boy +demurely; and this was the last straw. Gaetà did not make +the faintest protest when, soon after, it was announced that he and +I thought of leaving Aix on the morrow. I am not sure that she even +heard my vague apologies concerning a telegram from friends.</p> +<p>We all went to the opera at one of the Casinos that night. It +was "Rigoletto," and Gaetà and Paolo sat side by side, +looking into each other's eyes during the love scene in the first +act. But the Boy was adamant, and I did not turn a hair. He and I +were much occupied in wondering at the strange infatuation of the +stage hero, but especially the villain—quite a superior +villain—for the heroine, who looked like an elderly papoose: +therefore we had no time to be jealous of anything that went on +under our noses. The party supped with me, <i>en masse</i>, at my +hotel; and afterwards I said good-bye to Gaetà.</p> +<p>She did not know that I had planned my journey with a thought of +seeing her at the end, and drowning my sorrows in flirtation; but +the Boy knew, and had not forgotten—the little wretch. I saw +his thought twinkling in his eyes, as I said debonairly that we +might all meet on the Riviera. If I had not sternly removed my +gaze, I should probably have burst out laughing, and precipitated a +second duel in which I, and not the Boy, would have been a +principal.</p> +<p>When I had been in Aix-les-Bains before, I had made the +excursion to Mont Revard, as all the world makes it, by the +funicular railway; and after half an hour in the little train, I +had arrived at the top for lunch and the view, both being enjoyed +in a conventional manner. Now, all was to be changed. The Boy and I +did not regard ourselves as tourists, but as pilgrims.</p> +<p>Among other things that self-respecting pilgrims cannot do, is +to ascend a mountain by means of a funicular railway; better stay +at the bottom, and look up with reverence. Therefore, instead of +strolling out to the little station about twelve o'clock, with the +view of reaching the restaurant on the plateau in time for +<i>déjeuner</i>, we met on the balcony of the Bristol at +seven in the morning. There we fortified ourselves for a long walk, +with eggs and <i>café au lait</i>, while Innocentina and +Joseph grouped the animals at the foot of the steps.</p> +<p>The day was divinely young, and most divinely fair, when we set +forth. Only the soft fall of an occasional leaf, weary of keeping +up appearances on no visible means of support, told that autumn had +come. The weather put me in mind of a beautiful woman of forty, who +can still cheat the world into believing that she is in the full +summer of her prime, and is making the most of the few good years +left before the crash.</p> +<p>As we struck up the steep hill that leads out of Aix-les-Bains +and civilisation, passing with all our little procession into the +oak copses which fringe the lower slopes of Mont Revard, the Boy +and I agreed that nothing became the town so well as the leaving it +behind. At last little Aix unveiled her face to us, as we looked +down upon it from airy altitudes. We had space to see how pretty +she was, how charmingly she was dressed, and how gracefully she sat +in her mountain-backed chair, with her dainty white feet in the +lake, which, as Joseph said, we could now follow with our eyes +<i>dans toute son étendue</i>. A beautiful +<i>étendue</i> it was, the water keeping its extraordinary +brilliance of colour, even in the far distance; vivid in changing +blue-greens, flecked with gold, like the spread tail of a peacock +burnished by the sun.</p> +<p>Mont Revard is chiselled on the same pattern as all the other +mountains, big and little, of this part of Savoie; first, the long, +steep slope decently covered with a belt of wood, oak below, and +pine above; then a grey, precipitous wall, scarred and furrowed by +the frost and storm of a million years or more. This +block-and-socket arrangement of Nature is, generally speaking, one +of the least interesting of mountain forms, and its crudity was the +more noticeable as we were fresh from the soaring pinnacles and +stupendous pyramids of Switzerland. But Mont Revard is the +perfection of its type; and as we plodded in single file up the +threadlike path wound round the mountain (Joseph and Innocentina in +front, driving the animals), my respect for Revard increased with +each steeply ascending step.</p> +<p>Aromatic-scented branches brushed our faces, and we had to part +them before we could pass on. Then they flew back into their +accustomed places, resenting our intrusion by shaking over us a +shower of fragrant dew. The path, which was always narrow, had +fallen away a little here and there, for it is no one's business to +repair it now, since the making of the railway has turned pilgrims +into tourists. There was just room for man or beast to walk without +danger, but so sheer were the descents below us, so great the drop, +that a woman might have been pardoned a few tremors. "It's a good +thing you're not a girl," said I to the Little Pal, across my +shoulder, holding back a particularly obstinate branch which would +have liked to push us over the precipice, with its lean black arm. +"You would be screaming, and I shouldn't know what to do for +you."</p> +<p>"Not if I were an American girl," he replied, bristling with +patriotism.</p> +<p>"Is your sister plucky?"</p> +<p>"As plucky as I am; but perhaps that's not saying much. So +you're glad I'm not a girl?"</p> +<p>"I wouldn't metamorphose you, and lose my comrade. Still, if +your sister were like you, and not an heiress, I +should––"</p> +<p>"You would—what?"</p> +<p>"Like to meet her. But she would probably detest me, and wonder +how her brother could have endured my society for weeks on +end."</p> +<p>I was looking back, as I spoke, at the Boy, who was close +behind, when suddenly his smile seemed to freeze, and springing +forward he caught me by the coat sleeve.</p> +<p>"What's the matter?" I asked, for he was pale under the brown +tan.</p> +<p>For an instant he did not answer. Then, with his lips trembling +slightly, he smiled again. "I thought you were going to be killed, +that's all," said he, "so I stopped you. You were looking back at +me, but I saw that—that you were just going to tread on a +stone which Fanny had loosened with her hoof as she passed. If you +had stepped there, before you could regain your balance, +you—but there's no use talking of it. Only do look where +you're walking, won't you, when we're on a path like this? Now we +can go on."</p> +<p>"Why, you little duffer, you're as white as a ghost!" I +exclaimed. "If the stone had slipped I should have jumped back. The +path isn't really so narrow. It only gives that effect because it's +steep, and hangs over the edge of a precipice. Still, many thanks +for your solicitude."</p> +<p>"I believe, after all, I'll have to rest for a minute," the Boy +said apologetically. "I feel—a little queer. You needn't +wait. I'm sorry you should see me like this. You'll think that +there's nothing to choose between me and a girl. But I'm not always +a coward."</p> +<p>"I know that well enough," I assured him. "You're not a coward +now. But come on. You shall rest when the path widens, where the +others are stopping."</p> +<p>I caught his hand to pull him along, since we could not walk +abreast, and it was icy cold. Yet it was not for himself that he +had feared, and my heart was very warm for the Little Pal, as I +steered him carefully past the loose, flat stone on the edge of the +narrow path.</p> +<p>Joseph and Innocentina, who had been driving Finois and Souris, +allowing Fanny to follow at will, had called a halt with the three +animals, in a green dell where the way widened. The muleteer had a +handful of exquisite pink cyclamen, fragrant as violets, which he +had been gathering from hidden nooks among the rocks, and he was in +the act of presenting the flowers to Innocentina when we arrived, +but she waved them aside, exclaiming at her young master's pale +face.</p> +<p>The Boy explained that there might have been an accident, owing +to Fanny, and the donkey girl broke into violent abuse of the brown +velvet creature who was her favourite.</p> +<p>"Daughter of a thrice-accursed mother, and of a despicable +race!" she cried in her odd patois, which it was often better not +to understand too well. "Blighted and bloodthirsty beast! But look +at her now, eating with an enormous appetite a branch as big as +herself. Anaconda! She would eat if the world burned. If she had, +with a stroke of her twenty times condemned hoof, hurled us all to +death on the rocks below, she would still eat, not even looking +over the cliff to see what had become of us."</p> +<p>"But you should not talk so," broke in Joseph, lover of animals. +"It was not the fault of the little <i>âne</i> that the stone +was loosened. How could she know? It is you who are hard of heart, +to turn upon her thus. It is because you are Catholic, and believe +that the beasts have no souls."</p> +<p>"It is better to have none than to be a heretic, and the soul +burn," retorted Innocentina. "I am not hard-hearted. I love my +young Monsieur, and would not see him injured, that is all; while +you care for nothing in the world so much as your old Finois. Ah, I +would I had the <i>insouciance</i> of the <i>ânes</i>. It is +after all that which keeps them young."</p> +<p>At this we laughed, which annoyed Innocentina so much that she +at once fed to the maligned Fanny a bunch of charming yellow-pink +mushrooms which my prophetic soul told me had been originally +intended for her master's lunch.</p> +<p>Fortunately for us, Joseph—sadly wearing in his buttonhole +the despised cyclamen—discovered a few more of these +agreeable little vegetables, which he tested for our benefit by +drawing his sturdy thumbnail along the stem, showing how the fluted +undersurface flushed red at the touch, while the blood flowed +carmine from the wound he made.</p> +<p>A short rest brought the colour back to the Boy's lips, but we +did not go on again until we had eaten some of the chicken +sandwiches which had been put up for me at the hotel. Climbing had +made us hungry, although we had not been three hours on the way. +And we had left the summer behind, on lower levels; we did not need +to remind ourselves now that it was autumn. By noon we were <i>en +route</i> again, but the brilliance of the day had gone. As we +looked back at the world we were leaving, serrated mountains were +dark against flying silver clouds, and when we neared the Col, a +fierce north wind, which had been lying in wait for us above, +swooped down like a great bird of prey. We had heard it shrieking +from afar, but now we had penetrated into its very eyrie; and as we +crept, like flies upon a wall, along the tiny path which merely +roughened the sheer rock precipice, the wind caught and clawed us +with savage glee.</p> +<p>For a wonder, the much-travelled Joseph had never before made +the ascent of Mont Revard, therefore a certain pioneer instinct on +which I pride myself, and yesterday's research in the admirable map +of the Ministry of the Interior, alone gave us guidance. I did not +see how we could have come wrong, yet each moment it appeared that +our neglected path had reached its end, like an unwound +tape-measure. Could it be possible that this broken, ill-mended +thread was the clue which would eventually lead us to the Col de +Pertuiset, and the châlet-hotel far away upon the summit of +the mountain?</p> +<p>The Boy and I were ahead now, I sheltering him slightly from the +cold blast with my body, as I walked before him. Presently the way +turned abruptly, to zig-zag up a gap in the rock face, and I +shouted a warning to Joseph to look after Innocentina and the +animals, so steep and ruinous was the path. But I need not have +been alarmed. A backward glance showed me that Joseph had +anticipated my instructions, so far as Innocentina was +concerned.</p> +<p>Not a word of complaint came from the Boy; indeed, it would have +been difficult for him to utter it, even if he would, with the wind +rudely pressing its seal upon his lips. But I held out a hand to +him, and though he rebelled at first, an instant's silent tussle +made me master of his, so that I could pull him up with little +effort on his part.</p> +<p>In the deep gullies and hollows of this chasm below the Col, the +wind had us at its mercy, and forced our breath down our throats. +We were in deep shadow, though the sun should have been not far +past the zenith, and looking up to learn the reason, we saw that a +huge bank of woolly mist hung grey and heavy between us and the +sky. Below—far, far below—we had a glimpse of the world +we had left still bathed in September sunshine, warm and beautiful, +with cloud-shadows flying over low grass mountains and distant +lakes. Then we seemed to knock our heads against a dull grey +ceiling, which noiselessly crumbled round us, and we were in the +mist.</p> +<p>No longer was it a ceiling, but a sea in which we swam; a sea so +cold that a shiver crept through our bones into our marrow. We had +escaped the clutches of the wind, to drown in fog, and in five +minutes I had beside me a small, ghostly form with frosted hair, +and a white rime on his jacket. The Boy was like a figure on a +great iced cake, for the ground was whitened too.</p> +<p>Luckily, the ascent was over, and we were on grassy, undulating +land where stunted trees stood here and there like pointing wraiths +in the misty gloom. Dimly I could see, now and then, a daub of +paint, red as a splash of blood, on a dark boulder, to guide +travellers towards the summit hotel. Had it not been for these, it +would have been impossible to find the way, or keep it if +found.</p> +<p>We could walk side by side here, and looking down at the Boy, I +could see that he was shivering.</p> +<p>"Can it be that a few hours ago the mere exertion of walking +made us so hot that we had to mop our foreheads, and fan ourselves +with our hats?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Let's talk about it," said the Boy. "It may warm us, just to +remember."</p> +<p>"Are you very cold?"</p> +<p>"Not so ve-r-y."</p> +<p>"Your teeth are chattering in your head. Stop, we'll have our +overcoats out of the packs."</p> +<p>"I don't want mine."</p> +<p>"Nonsense; you must have it."</p> +<p>"To tell the truth, I haven't got it with me. I gave it to the +upstairs waiter at Chamounix. He told me a lot about himself, and +he was in trouble, poor fellow; he'd been discharged for some fault +or other, and was so poor that he was going to walk home, in the +farthest part of Switzerland. You see, I thought as I was on the +way south, I wouldn't need an overcoat. I'd hardly ever wanted it +so far, and the waiter was a small, slim chap, not much bigger than +I am. Anyhow, we shall soon be at the hotel now, and we can walk +fast."</p> +<p>He looked so white and spirit-like in the mist, with his big +bright eyes made brighter by the tired shadows underneath, that I +would not discourage him with the truth. If I had said that I +feared we were lost in the mist, and perhaps might not reach the +hotel for hours, he would have realised all his weariness and +suffering. I made him wait, however, and when the ghostly +procession of man, woman, and beasts had trailed up to us, I +ordered a stop for Finois to be unloaded, that my overcoat might be +unearthed.</p> +<p>In place of the workmanlike pack which the mule might have +borne, had I not insisted on fulfilling a rash vow, my luggage was +contained in twin brown hold-alls bought at Martigny, and covered +with a waterproof cloth which was the property of Joseph.</p> +<p>Both these abominable rolls had to be taken off Finois' back and +laid upon the whitened grass, as I had forgotten in which one was +stuffed the coat that I had not worn for many days. Now at this +bitter moment, could my valet but have known it, he had his full +revenge. I longed for him as a thirsty traveller in the desert +longs for a spring of water. Yet I knew, deep down in my desolate +heart, that Locker would not have been able to cope with this +crisis. In cities, he was more efficient than most of his kind, but +the Unusual was a bugbear to him; and, lost in a freezing mountain +mist, he would have lain down to die with my horrible hold-alls +still strapped and bulging. It is a strange thing that most +servants would consider themselves deeply injured if asked to bear +half the hardships which their masters cheerfully undergo for the +sheer fun of the thing.</p> +<p>Joseph came to my rescue, but, with all the good will in the +world, he complicated matters. Finois, Fanny, and Souris pressed +nearer, hoping for something to eat, and the two donkeys, +discouraged and disheartened by the unexpected cold, were piteous, +shivering objects, with their velvet hair bristling on end, their +little legs knocking together. Even their faces seemed to have +shrunk, and Fanny was all eyes and grey spectacles.</p> +<p>I opened the hateful object which, by its tuberculous knobs, I +recognised as the one least often unpacked. It was there that I +expected to find the coat, wrapped democratically round goodness +knew how many spare boots, stockings, collars, and other small +articles which Locker would never have allowed to come within +speaking distance of each other. But, with the total depravity of +inanimate things, the coat had escaped from the hold-all. In my +certainty that I must come upon it sooner or later—at the +bottom of everything, of course—I scattered the other +contents recklessly about; and when at last I gave up the search in +despair, the white ground was strewn with the most intimate +accessories of my toilet. Seized with a Berserker rage, I tore open +the second hold-all, and before the Boy could utter a cry of +protest, more collars, handkerchiefs, brushes, and little horrors +of every description peppered the earth. There were as many things +there as the inestimable mother of the Swiss Family Robinson +contrived to stow in her wonderful bag during the five minutes +before the shipwreck—things which fulfilled all the wants of +the young Robinsons for the period of seventeen years. But, +naturally, the one thing I needed was missing; and now that it was +too late, I vaguely recalled seeing that overcoat hanging limply on +a peg in the wardrobe of some hotel whose very name I had now +forgotten.</p> +<p>If I had been a woman, I should inevitably have burst into +tears, and somebody would have comforted me, and everything would +immediately have been all right. As it was, I used several of +Innocentina's most lurid phrases, under my breath, and announced my +intention of abandoning my luggage on the mountain-side, rather +than attempt the impossible task of feeding it again to the +monsters which had disgorged it.</p> +<p>"Poor Man!" exclaimed the Boy. "Why didn't you confide to me +before, that you were physically and mentally incapable of packing? +I've often noticed that your hold-alls looked like overfed boa +constrictors, but I didn't dream things were as bad as this. You +had better let Innocentina and me do the work for you. We're what +you call 'nailers' at it, I assure you."</p> +<p>I made a snatch at a dressing-gown, which I rescued from the +conglomerate heap before he could push me away. Then, with the +garment hung over my arm, I stood by helplessly with Joseph, while +Innocentina and the Boy, with incredible swiftness and skill, set +about the business from which I had been dismissed. Somewhat after +this fashion must the work of Creation have been done, when there +was only Chaos to begin upon.</p> +<p>In five minutes all my scattered horrors had been sorted neatly, +according to their species, like the animals forming in procession +for the ark; collars after their kind; boots after their kind; and +so on, down to the humble shoestring and mean shirt-stud. Never had +those loathsome inventions of an evil mind, my hold-alls, so +closely resembled self-respecting members of the luggage fraternity +as they did when the Boy and Innocentina had finished with +them.</p> +<p>With a sigh of relief the Little Pal jumped up from his grim +task, leaving Joseph to fasten the straps; and as he got to his +feet, his small hands purple with cold, I wrapped the dressing-gown +round his shoulders. Then, seeing his slight figure engulfed in it, +like a very small pea in a very big pod, I burst out laughing.</p> +<p>"Is <i>that</i> what you wanted?" cried the Boy. "I won't have +it. I won't! I'd rather freeze than be a guy. Put it on +yourself."</p> +<p>"I don't need it. It was for you. Don't be ungrateful, after all +my trouble."</p> +<p>"All <i>my</i> trouble, you mean. Take off the horrid thing. I +won't wear it. Let me alone."</p> +<p>Unmoved by his complaints, I still held him prisoner, using the +dressing-gown as a strait-jacket, while he fought in my grasp. A +sudden suppressed giggle from Innocentina at this juncture seemed +to drive him to frenzy.</p> +<p>"If you don't let me go, I'll—I'll box your ears!" he +stammered.</p> +<p>"Try it," I advised sternly.</p> +<p>He could not move his arms, so closely I held him, but his eyes +were blazing.</p> +<p>"You'll be sorry for this some day," he panted.</p> +<p>"Will you keep on the dressing-gown, if I let you go?".</p> +<p>"No."</p> +<p>"Then will you wear my coat?"</p> +<p>"What! And have you in your shirt-sleeves? Rather not. Let +me––"</p> +<p>"I'll give you the coat and wear the dressing-gown myself. +<i>I'm</i> not as vain as a girl."</p> +<p>Whether the thought of what my appearance would be in the gown, +or the taunt I flung at him, moved the Boy, I cannot say, but +suddenly his struggles ceased.</p> +<p>"I'll wear anything you like," said he with a sudden accession +of meekness, so unexpected that I was alarmed for his health, and +gazed at him closely to see if he were on the verge of a collapse. +Instead of looking ill, however, he was no longer pinched and +pallid, but radiant with colour. Rage had produced a beneficial +effect upon his circulation.</p> +<p>On his promise, I released him, nor did I insist when he waved +me aside, and hurriedly girded up the dressing-gown himself. The +garment reached almost to his feet, and the quaintness of the +little figure shrouded in its dark folds and hatted with Panama +straw, in the midst of a mountain snow-cloud, was a sight to make +Fanny laugh; but I kept a grave face, and so did Joseph and +Innocentina, though the donkey-girl's eyes were bright.</p> +<p>We marched on again when Finois had been reloaded, the party +keeping well together, lest we should lose each other in this mist +which was snow, this snow which was mist. The Boy and I walked +ahead at first; I silent lest I should laugh, he +silent—probably—lest he should cry. The woolly cloud +wrapped its folds round us thicker and closer, so that objects a +dozen feet away were blotted out of sight, and for all practical +purposes ceased to exist. The silvery rime, freezing as it fell, +covered stones and boulders so that it was no longer possible to +see the red splashes which marked the way. Soon, we were hopelessly +lost, plunging down into grassy hollows, where our feet slipped +between rough stones into muddy ruts concealed under a treacherous +film of white, or plodding up to the top of knolls which proved to +have no connection with anything else, when we had toilsomely +attained them.</p> +<p>By-and-bye I knew how a man feels in a treadmill, and I was +anxious for the Boy's sake, seeing the queer little figure in the +panama and dressing-gown gradually droop, despite the brave spirit +with which it was animated. Losing confidence in my boasted ability +as a pioneer, I called Joseph to the rescue, and bade him take the +lead.</p> +<p>Having intruded upon him suddenly, behind the screen of +snow-cloud, I found him engaged in the Samaritan act—no doubt +carried out on purely humanitarian principles—of warming one +of Innocentina's hands in his. I simulated blindness with such +histrionic skill that honest Joseph was deceived thereby; but not +so Innocentina. She tossed her head, and folded her arms in her +cape as if it had been the toga of a Roman senator unjustly accused +of treason. She had been, so she assured me, at that instant on the +point of coming forward to entreat her young monsieur to mount +Fanny, since he must be deadly tired; but the Boy, joining us at +the moment, denied excessive fatigue and said that he would freeze +if he rode. Besides, he added, it would be cruel to burden Fanny, +in her present state of depression. The most likely thing was that +we should have to carry her; and if she continued to shrink at her +present rate per minute, soon we could slip her into one of our +pockets.</p> +<p>Joseph, promoted to the post of honour, forged ahead; and either +Fanny and Souris insisted upon following Finois, or else +Innocentina felt called upon to continue the process of conversion +even in adverse circumstances; at all events, the Boy and I almost +immediately found ourselves in the background, all that we could +see of our companions being a tassel-like grey tail quivering above +a moving blur of little legs, scarcely thicker than toothpicks.</p> +<p>The Boy, who was still sulking in the dressing-gown, suddenly +broke by a spasmodic chuckle the silence which had blended +chillingly with the weather.</p> +<p>"What's up?" I enquired, thawing joyously in the brief gleam of +moral sunshine.</p> +<p>"I was only thinking that if Innocentina wants to convert Joseph +from heresy she'd better not lecture him to-day about eternal fire. +The idea is too inviting. I never envied anyone so much as my +namesake, St. Laurence, on his gridiron. It would be a luxury to +grill."</p> +<p>"Perhaps the gridiron was to him what my dressing-gown is to +you," said I.</p> +<p>"I'm getting resigned to it. That's the reason I'm talking to +you. I hated you for five minutes; but—you never like people +so much as when you've just finished hating them."</p> +<p>"Which means that I'm forgiven?"</p> +<p>"That, and something more."</p> +<p>"Good imp! The thermometer is rising. But I feel a beast to have +got you into this scrape. If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't +have known that a mule-path existed on Mont Revard."</p> +<p>"I'm not sorry we came. This will be something to remember +always. It's a real adventure. Afterwards we shall get the point of +view."</p> +<p>"I wish we could get one now," said I. "But the prospect isn't +cheerful. Molly Winston's prophecy is being fulfilled. She was +certain that sooner or later I should be lost on a mountain; and +her sketch of me, curled up in sleeping-sack and tent, toasting my +toes before a fire of twigs, and eating tinned soup, steaming hot, +made me long to lose myself immediately. But, alas! a peasant child +near Piedimulera is basking at this moment in my woolly sack, and +battening on my Instantaneous Breakfasts."</p> +<p>"Don't think of them," said the Boy. "That way madness lies. A +chapter in my book shall be called, 'How to be Happy though +Freezing.'"</p> +<p>"What would be your definition of the state, precisely?"</p> +<p>"Being with Somebody you—like."</p> +<p>My temperature bounded up several degrees, thanks to these +amends, but our sole comfort was in each other, since Joseph had no +hope to give. At this moment he parted the mist-curtain to remark +that he could find no traces of a path or landmark of any kind.</p> +<p>Hours dragged on, and we were still wandering aimlessly, as one +wanders in a troubled dream. We were chilled to the bone, and as it +was by this time late in the afternoon, I began to fear that we +should have to spend the night on the mountain-side. Revard was +wreaking vengeance upon us for taking his name in vain. We had made +naught of him as a mountain; now he was showing us that, were he +sixteen thousand feet high instead of four, he could scarcely put +us to more serious inconvenience.</p> +<p>I was growing gravely anxious about the Boy, though the bitter +cold and great fatigue had not quenched his spirit, when the smell +of cattle and the muffled sound of human voices put life into the +chill, dead body of the mist. A house loomed before us, and I +sprang to the comforting conclusion that we had stumbled upon one +of the outlying offices of the hotel, but an instant showed me my +mistake. The low building was a rough stone châlet with two +or three cowherds outside the door, and these men stared in +surprise and curiosity at our ghostly party.</p> +<p>"Are we far from the hotel?" I asked in French, but no gleam of +understanding lightened their faces; and it was not until Joseph +had addressed them in the most extraordinary patois I had ever +heard, that they showed signs of intelligence. "Hoo-a-long, +hoo-a-long, walla-ha?" he remarked, or words to that effect.</p> +<p>"Squall-a-doo, soo-a-lone, bolla-hang," returned one of the men, +suddenly wound up to gesticulate with violence.</p> +<p>"He says that the hotel is about half an hour's walk from here," +Joseph explained to me, looking wistful. And my own feelings gave +me the clue to that look's significance.</p> +<p>"Thank goodness!" I exclaimed heartily. "But it would be +tempting Providence to pass this house, which is at least a human +habitation, without resting and warming the blood in our veins. +Perhaps we can get something to eat for ourselves and the +donkeys—to say nothing of something to drink."</p> +<p>Another exchange of words like brickbats afforded us the +information, when translated, that we could obtain black bread, +cheese, and brandy; also that we were welcome to sit before the +fire.</p> +<p>I pushed the Boy in ahead of me, but he fell back. The stench +which struck us in the face as the door opened was like an +evil-smelling pillow, thrown with good aim by an unseen hand. +Mankind, dog-kind, cow-kind, chicken-kind, and cheese-kind, +together with many ingredients unknown to science, combined in the +making of this composite odour, and its strength sent the Boy +reeling into my arms.</p> +<p>"No, I can't stand it," he gasped. "I shall faint. Better freeze +than suffocate."</p> +<p>But I forced him in; and in five minutes, to our own +self-loathing, we had become almost inured to the smell. Eat we +could not, but we drank probably the worst brandy in all Europe or +Asia, and slowly our blood began once more to take its normal +course. A spurious animation soon enabled the Boy to start on +again; one of the cowherds pointed out the path, and for a time all +went well with our little band, even Fanny and Souris having +revived on black crusts of mediæval bread. But the half-hour +in which we had been told we might cover the distance between +châlet and hotel lengthened into an hour. The mist grew +greyer, and thicker, and darker, misleading us almost as cleverly +as its sophisticated English cousin, a London fog. Again and again +we lost our way. Owing to the fatigue of the Boy and Innocentina, +and the utter dejection of the unfortunate little donkeys, we could +not walk fast enough to keep our blood warm, and my tweeds, in +which I was buttoned to the chin, seemed to afford no more +protection than newspaper.</p> +<p>When I remarked this to the Boy he replied with a faint chuckle +that he felt like a newspaper himself—"a newspaper," he +repeated, shivering, "with the smallest circulation in the world. +And if it weren't for your dressing-gown there wouldn't be any +circulation left at all."</p> +<p>The day, which had begun in summer and ended in winter, was +darkening to night when Joseph, who was in advance, cried out that +he had flattened his nose against something solid, which was +probably the wall of the hotel. No blur of yellow light penetrated +the gloom, but a few minutes of anxious groping brought us to a +door—rather an elaborate, pretentious door, which instantly +dispelled all fear that we had come upon another châlet, or +perchance a barn.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><img src= +"images/328.gif" width="400" height="200" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id= +"CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</p> +<h4>The Americans</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Is the gentleman anonymous? Is he a +great unknown?"<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 22em">—Shakespeare.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>While Joseph and Innocentina remained outside with the animals, +the Boy and I entered a long, dark corridor, dimly lighted at the +far end. Half-way down we came upon a porter, whose look of +surprise would have told us (if we had not learned through bitter +experience already) that Mont Revard's season was over. He guided +us to the door of a large salon, which he threw open with an air of +wishing to justify the hotel; and despite the load of weariness +under which the Boy was almost fainting, he whipped the +dressing-gown off in a flash, shook the snow from his panama, +squaring his little shoulders, and re-entered civilisation with a +jauntiness which denied exhaustion and did credit to his pride. +Nevertheless, he availed himself of the first easy-chair, and +dropped into it as a ripe apple drops from its leafy home into the +long grass.</p> +<p>The porter scampered off to send us the landlord, and to see to +the comfort of Joseph and Innocentina, until they and their charges +could be definitely provided for. While we waited—the Boy +leaning back, pale and silent, in an exaggerated American +rocking-chair, I standing on guard beside him—there was time +to look about at our surroundings.</p> +<p>The room was immense, and on a warm, bright day of midsummer +might have been delightful, with its polished mosaic floor, its +painted basket chairs and little tables, and its standard lamps +with coloured silk shades. But to-day a stuffy, red-curtained +bar-parlour would have been more cheerful.</p> +<p>At first, I thought we were alone in the waste of painted +wicker-work, for there had been dead silence on our entrance; but +hardly had we settled ourselves to await the coming of the +landlord, when a movement at the far end of the big, dim room told +me that it had other occupants. Two men in knickerbockers were +sitting on low chairs drawn close to a fireplace, and both were +looking round at us with evident curiosity.</p> +<p>As the Boy's chair had its high back half-turned in their +direction, all they could see of him was a little hand dangling +over the arm of the chair, and a small foot in a stout, workmanlike +walking boot, laced far up the ankle. I stood facing them; and +though the sole illumination came flickering from a newly kindled +fire, or filtered through the red shades of three large lamps, not +only could they see what manner of man I was, but I could study +their personal characteristics.</p> +<p>In these I was conscious of no lively interest; but as the men +continued to gaze over their shoulders at me, and the Boy's chair, +I decided that they were from the States. They were both young, +clean-shaven, good-looking; with clear features, keen eyes, and +prominent chins, reminiscent of the attractive "Gibson type" of +American youth.</p> +<p>"Well," said one to the other, turning away from his brief but +steady inspection of the newcomers, "I thought we were the only two +fools stranded here for the night in this weather, but it seems +there are a couple more."</p> +<p>Their voices had a carrying quality which brought the words +distinctly to our ears. Suddenly the "rocker" was agitated, and the +Boy's feet came to the ground. Nervously, he jerked the chair round +so that its back was completely turned to the men at the other end +of the room. His eyes looked so big, and his face was so deeply +stained with a quick rush of colour, that I feared he was ill.</p> +<p>"Anything wrong?" I asked, bending towards him, with my hand on +his chair.</p> +<p>"Nothing. I was only—a little surprised to hear people +talking, that's all. I thought we had the room to ourselves."</p> +<p>His voice was a whisper, and I pitched mine to his in answering. +"So did I at first, but it seems two countrymen of yours are before +us. I wonder if they have had adventures to equal ours? Probably we +shall find out at dinner, for this looks the sort of hotel to herd +its guests together at one long table."</p> +<p>The Boy's hand closed sharply on the arm of his chair. "I'm too +tired to dine in public," said he, still in the same muffled voice. +"I shall have something to eat in my room—if I ever get +one."</p> +<p>"If that's your game," said I, "I'll play it with you. We'll ask +them to give us a sitting-room of sorts, and we'll dine there +together like kings."</p> +<p>"No, no. You must go down. I shall have my dinner in bed. I'm +worn out. What are—those men at the other end of the room +like?"</p> +<p>"Like sketches from New York <i>Life</i>," I replied. "One is +dark, the other fair, with a deep cleft in his chin, and a nose so +straight it might have been ruled. Better take a look at them. +Perhaps you may have met at home."</p> +<p>"All the more reason for not looking," said the Boy. "Thank +goodness, here comes the landlord."</p> +<p>We could have had twenty rooms if we wished, for, said our host, +throwing a glance across the salon, he had only two other guests +besides ourselves. They had come up by the funicular, meaning to +walk next morning down to Chambéry, but whether they could +do so or not depended on the weather. In any case, the hotel would +close for the season in a few days now, and the funicular cease to +run. Fires should be laid in our rooms immediately, and we should +be made comfortable, but as for our animals, unfortunately there +were no stables attached to the hotel, no accommodation whatever +for four-footed creatures. They would have to go back to the +châlet, where they and their drivers could be put up for the +night.</p> +<p>"That will not do for Innocentina," exclaimed the boy quickly. +In his eagerness he raised his voice slightly, and the two young +men at the other end of the salon seemed waked suddenly to renewed +interest in us and our affairs. But the Boy's tone fell again +instantly. "Innocentina must have a room at this hotel," he went +on. "The châlet will be bad enough for Joseph. For her it +would be impossible. Joseph won't mind taking the donkeys down and +caring for them this one night, for Innocentina's sake."</p> +<p>"If know Joseph, it will afford him infinite satisfaction; and +the more intense his physical suffering, the happier he'll be in +the thought that he is bearing it for her," I replied. "I'll go out +and break the news to the poor chap."</p> +<p>The Boy sprang up. "No, no; don't leave me alone!" he cried. +Then, as I looked surprised, he added, more quietly: "I mean I'll +go with you, and talk to Innocentina. Meanwhile, our things can be +sent up to our rooms."</p> +<p>Though he had asked "what the men at the other end of the room +were like," he showed no desire to verify for himself the +description I had given. He kept his back religiously turned +towards his countrymen, and did not throw a single glance their way +as we left the salon with the landlord, though I saw that the two +young Americans were interested in him.</p> +<p>We returned to the door at the end of the long corridor, where +we had entered the hotel ten or fifteen minutes earlier, and found +Joseph, Innocentina, and the animals still sheltering against the +house wall. The porter had already retailed the bad news, and the +faithful muleteer had of his own accord volunteered to play the +part which the Boy and I had assigned him. Though he was tired, +cold, and hungry, and had the prospect of a gloomy walk, with a +night of discomfort to follow, he was far from being depressed; and +I thought I knew what supported him in his hour of trial.</p> +<p>We saw him off, followed by a piteous trail of asshood, and +then, shivering once more, we re-entered the dim corridor. +Innocentina, much subdued, was with us now, carrying the famous bag +in its snow-powdered <i>rücksack</i>, while a porter went +before with the rest of the luggage, taken from the tired backs of +our beasts. We had reached the foot of the stairs, when we came so +suddenly face to face with the two Americans that it almost seemed +we had stumbled upon an ambush.</p> +<p>They stared very hard at the Boy, who did not give them a +glance, though I was conscious of a stiffening of his muscles. He +turned his head a little on one side, so that the shadow of the +panama eclipsed his face from their point of view; but I could see +that he had first grown scarlet, then white.</p> +<p>"By Jove, but it can't be possible!" I heard one of the men say +as we passed and began to ascend the stairs. The answer I did not +hear; but Innocentina, who was close behind me, glared with +unchristian malevolence at the young men, as if instinct whispered +that they were concerning themselves unnecessarily about her +master's business.</p> +<p>The Boy ran upstairs as lightly as if he had never known +fatigue. The porter showed him his room; his luggage was taken in, +and then he came out to me in the passage.</p> +<p>"You told Joseph that he needn't come up very early to-morrow, +didn't you?" he enquired.</p> +<p>"Yes, as we're pretty well fagged, and Chambéry isn't an +all-day's journey, I thought we might take our time in the morning. +That suits you, doesn't it?" (It was really of him that I had been +thinking, but I did not say so.)</p> +<p>"Oh, yes," he answered absentmindedly, as if already his brain +were busy with something else. "What time did you fix for starting? +I didn't hear?"</p> +<p>"I said to Joseph that it would do if he were on hand at +half-past ten. You can rest till nine o'clock."</p> +<p>"Thank you. And now, good night. You've been very kind to-day. +Maybe I didn't seem grateful, but I was, all the same; very, very +grateful."</p> +<p>"Nonsense!" said I. "If you're too tired to go down, shan't I +have my dinner with you? We could have a table drawn up before the +fire, and it would be quite jolly."</p> +<p>He shook his head, a great weariness in his eyes. "I'm too done +up for society, even yours. I'd rather you went down. You will, +won't you?"</p> +<p>"Certainly, if you won't have me. Rest well. I shall see that +they send you up something decent."</p> +<p>"It doesn't matter. I'm not as hungry as I was, somehow. Good +night, Man."</p> +<p>"Good night, Boy."</p> +<p>"Shake hands, will you?"</p> +<p>He pressed mine with all his little force, and shook it again +and again, looking up in my face. Then he bade me "Good night" once +more, abruptly, and retreated into his room.</p> +<p>I went to my quarters at the other end of the passage, and was +glad of the fire which had begun to roar fiercely in a small round +stove, like a gnome with a pipe growing out of his head. I had a +sponge, changed, and descended to the salon, only to learn that the +eating arrangements were carried on in another building, at some +distance from the hotel. Feeling like a belated insect of summer +overtaken by winter cold, I darted down the path indicated, to the +restaurant, where I found the Americans, already seated at just +such a long table as I had pictured, and still in their +knickerbockers. There was, in the big room, a sprinkling of little +tables under the closed windows, but they were not laid for a meal; +and a chair being pulled out for me by a waiter, exactly opposite +my two fellow-guests, I took it and sat down.</p> +<p>My first thought was to order something for the Little Pal, and +to secure a promise that it should reach him hot, and soon. I then +devoted myself to my own dinner, which would have been more +enjoyable had I had the Boy's companionship. I had worked slowly +through soup and fish, and arrived at the inevitable veal, when I +was addressed by one of the Americans—him of the cleft chin +and light curly hair, whose voice I had heard first in the +salon.</p> +<p>"You came up by the mule path, didn't you?"</p> +<p>I answered civilly in the affirmative, aware that all my +"points" were being noted by both men.</p> +<p>"Must have been a stiff journey in this weather."</p> +<p>"We came into the mist and snow just below the Col."</p> +<p>"Your friend is done up, isn't he?"</p> +<p>"Oh, he's a very plucky young chap," I replied, careful for the +Boy's reputation as a pilgrim; "but he's a bit fagged, and will be +better off dining in his own room."</p> +<p>"I expect he'll be all right to-morrow. Are you going to try and +get to Chambéry, or will you return to Aix by train?"</p> +<p>"We shall push on, unless we're snowed in," I said.</p> +<p>"That's our plan, too. I dare say we shall be starting about the +same time, and if so, if you don't mind, we might join forces."</p> +<p>"Now, what is this chap's game?" I asked myself. "He isn't +drawing me out for nothing; and as these two are together they have +no need of companionship. There's some special reason why they want +to join us."</p> +<p>Taking this for granted, the one reason which occurred to me as +probable, was a previous acquaintance with the Boy, which they +wished to keep up, and he did not wish to acknowledge. I determined +that he should not be thus entrapped, through me.</p> +<p>"That would be very pleasant, no doubt," I replied; "but you had +better not wait for us. Our time of starting is uncertain."</p> +<p>Though I spoke with perfect civility, it must have been clear to +them that I preferred not to have my party enlarged by strangers, +and I rather regretted the necessity for this ungraciousness, as +the men were gentlemen, and I usually got on excellently with +Americans.</p> +<p>"Oh, very well," returned the handsomer of the two, looking +slightly offended. "We shall meet on the way down, perhaps. +By-the-by, if I'm not mistaken, your young friend is a compatriot +of ours. He's American, isn't he?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"I believe I've met him in New York, though it was so dark I +couldn't be sure. Do you object to telling me his name?"</p> +<p>"I'm afraid I do object," I answered, stiffly this time. "You +must satisfy yourself as to his identity, if it interests you, when +you see each other to-morrow."</p> +<p>Of all that remained of dinner, I can only say the words which +Hamlet spoke in dying; for indeed, "the rest was silence."</p> +<p>Directly the meal was over, I hurried back to the hotel, like a +rabbit to its warren; smoked a pipe before a roaring fire in my +bedroom, and wondered if the Little Pal were wandering "down the +uncompanioned way" of dreamland. As for me, I never got as far as +that land. I fell over a precipice without a bottom, before my head +had found a nest in the soft pillow, and knew nothing more until +suddenly I started awake with the impression that someone had +called.</p> +<p>"What is it, Boy? Do you want me?" I heard myself asking +sharply, as my eyes opened.</p> +<p>It seemed that I had not been asleep for ten minutes, but to my +surprise an exquisite, rosy light filled the room. Well-nigh before +I knew whether I were sleeping or waking, I was out of bed and at +the window.</p> +<p>It was the light of sunrise, shining over a billowy white world, +for the fog had been rent asunder, and through its torn, woolly +folds, I caught an unforgettable glimpse of glory. The sky was a +rippling lake of red-gold fire, whose reflection turned a hundred +snow-clad mountain-crests to blazing helmets for Titans. Above the +majestic ranks rose their leader, towering head and shoulders over +all. "Mont Blanc!" I had just time to say to myself in awed +admiration, when the snow-fog was knit together again, only a +jagged line of fading gold showing the stitches.</p> +<p>Nobody had called me; I knew that, now, yet I had an uneasy +impression that someone wanted me somewhere, and that something was +wrong. It was stupid to let this worry me, I told myself, however; +and having lingered a few moments at the window studying the lovely +pattern of frost-work lace on the glass, and the fringe of +priceless pearls on branch of bush, and stunted tree, I went back +to bed. There, I pulled my watch out from under my pillow, and +looked at it. "Only six o'clock," I yawned. "Three good hours more +of sleep. I wonder if the Boy––" Then I tumbled over +another pleasant precipice.</p> +<p>When I waked again, it was almost nine, and nerving myself to +the inevitable, I rang for a cold bath. The morning was bitterly +chill, but the tingling water soon sent the blood racing through my +veins, and by ten o'clock I was knocking at the Boy's door. No +answer came, and thinking that he must already be down, I was on my +way across the white, frozen grass to the restaurant, when I met +the muleteer coming up with Finois.</p> +<p>"Hallo, Joseph!" I exclaimed in surprise. "Where are Fanny and +Souris?"</p> +<p>"Innocentina has taken them, Monsieur," he answered.</p> +<p>"What—they have started?"</p> +<p>"But yes, Monsieur, and very early."</p> +<p>"Tell me what happened," I prompted him.</p> +<p>"Why, Monsieur, it was this way. There was not much sleep for me +last night, if you will pardon my liberty in mentioning such +matters, because of the little animal which bites and jumps away. I +know not what you call him in your language, though I think he is +known in all lands. Besides, the beasts were noisy in the stable +underneath the room where I lay with the men. About half-past four +the others got up, but I lay still, as it was well with my animals, +and there was no hurry. But a little more than an hour later, they +called me from below, laughing, and saying there was a lady to see +me. I had not undressed, Monsieur, for many reasons, and now I was +glad, for I knew who it must be, though not why she should be +there, and so early too. I could not bear that she should be alone +with these rough fellows, and in two minutes I had tumbled down the +ladder.</p> +<p>"I had not been mistaken, Monsieur. It was Innocentina. She said +her master had sent her down to fetch the <i>ânes</i>, as he +was obliged by certain circumstances to start on in advance of my +master. I did not ask her any questions, but I helped her get ready +the donkeys, and I would have walked up with her to the hotel, had +she permitted it. If I did so, she said, the cattle men would talk; +so I stayed behind."</p> +<p>"Well, I suppose we shall overtake them," I replied, hiding +surprise, as I did not care to let Joseph see that I had been left +in the dark concerning this strange change of programme. My mind +groped for an explanation of the mystery, and then suddenly seized +upon one. The Boy, who had evidently met his two compatriots in +other days and another land, disliked and wished to shun them. He +had feared that they might be our companions down to +Chambéry, and had taken drastic measures to avoid their +society. Rather than get me up early, for his convenience, after a +day of some hardship and fatigue, the plucky little chap had gone +off without us. Possibly I should find that he had left a note for +me, with some waiter or <i>femme de chambre</i>. If not, our route +down to Chambéry and the hotel at which we were to stay +there, had already been decided upon. He would have said to himself +that there could be no mistake, and that he might trust me to find +him at our destination.</p> +<p>The Americans were not at breakfast, but later, as Joseph, +Finois, and I were starting, I saw them standing at a distance in +the corridor. The porter, who had brought down the miserable +hold-alls, and was waiting for his tip, murmured that "<i>ces +messieurs</i>" were not going to make the walking expedition to +Chambéry; the landlord had advised them that the weather was +too bad, and they had decided to return by the noon train to +Aix-les-Bains.</p> +<p>I felt that I owed the young men a grudge for the Boy's +defection; and as there had been no note or message from him, I was +not in a forgiving mood. Without a second glance towards the pair, +I walked away with Joseph—alone with him for the first time +in many a day.</p> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id= +"CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</p> +<h4>The Vanishing of the Prince</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Now to my word:<br /></span> +<span> It is, <i>Adieu, adieu! remember me</i>."<br /></span> +<span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 11em">—Shakespeare.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>As we dipped down below the summit of the mountain, we stepped +from under the snow-fog, as if it had been a great white, hanging +nightcap. The air smelled like early winter, and was vibrant with +the melody of cowbells. On snow-covered eminences near and far, +dark, sentinel larches watched us, weeping slow tears from every +naked spine. So high had they climbed, so acclimatised to the +mountains did these soldier-trees seem, that I named them for +myself the Chasseurs Alpins of the forest.</p> +<p>"We shall have fine weather to-morrow," said Joseph, as we left +the snow and came to what he called the "<i>terre grasse</i>," +which was greasy and slippery under foot. "See, Monsieur, a worm; +he comes up out of his hole, and the earth clings to him as he +walks abroad. If he were clean, that would be a sign of another bad +day to follow."</p> +<p>"At least we are going down to summer again," I replied; "also +to the young Monsieur; and to Innocentina. But perhaps you are glad +of a rest from her sharp tongue."</p> +<p>Joseph shrugged his shoulders. "I am used to it now, Monsieur," +said he; and I turned away my face to hide a smile. I knew that he +missed the girl, and I was still more keenly aware that I missed a +comrade. My fleeting impressions were hardly worth catching and +taming, without him to help cage them; without his vivid mind to +help colour the thoughts, which mine only sketched in black and +white, it was easier to leave the canvas blank.</p> +<p>We had decided last night that it would not be wise to attempt +the journey by way of the Dent du Nivolets, as it was on a higher +level than the summit of Mont Revard, and we should risk being +again extinguished under a nightcap of snow. We descended, +therefore, by the simpler and shorter route, but it was full of +interest for the strangeness of the landscape, and the buildings +which we reached on lower planes.</p> +<p>The houses were no longer characteristically French, but a +bastard Swiss. The heavy, overhanging roofs were thatched, and of +enormous thickness; the walls of grey stone, with roughly carved, +skeleton balconies. The peasants no longer smiled at us in +good-natured curiosity, but regarded us dourly, though they were +gravely civil if we had questions to ask.</p> +<p>Although I gave Joseph no instructions, and he made no +suggestions, by common consent we hastened on as if a prize were to +be bestowed for our good speed, at the end of the journey. On other +days we had sauntered, allowing the animals to snatch delicious +<i>hors d'œuvres</i> from the bushes as they passed, but +to-day Finois was in the depths of gloom. There was no grey Souris, +no spectacled Fanny-anny to cheer him on the way, and if he reached +out a wistful mouth towards a branch, he was hurried past it. How +would we feel, I asked myself, if, with the inner man clamouring, +we were driven remorselessly along a road decked on either side +with exquisitely appointed tables, set out with all our favourite +dishes, to be had for nothing—never once allowed to stop for +a crumb of <i>pâté de foie gras</i>, or a bit of +chicken in aspic? Yet asking myself this, I had no mercy on +Finois.</p> +<p>We stopped for lunch at a queer auberge, in an abortive village +appropriately named Les Déserts, where the highroad for +Chambéry began. An outer room roughly flagged with stone, +was kitchen, nursery, and family living-room in one. It swarmed +with children, and was presided over by two of Macbeth's witches, +who were not separated from their cauldrons. I took them to be +rival mothers-in-law, and they could have taught Innocentina some +choice new expressions valuable to test upon donkeys or other +heretics; but they sent me a steaming bowl of excellent coffee, +when I half expected poison; fried me a couple of eggs with crisp +brown lace round the edges, and took for my benefit, from one of +the shelves that lined the nursery wall, the newest of a hundred +loaves of hard black bread.</p> +<p>I ventured to ask a down-trodden daughter-in-law of the Ladies +of the Cauldrons, whether a very young gentleman, and an older but +still all-young woman, with two donkeys, had stopped at the auberge +some hours earlier.</p> +<p>The spiritless one shook her head. But no. The only other +customers of the house thus far had been the postman and two +soldiers. The party might have passed. She and her parents were too +busy to take note of what went on outside. A faint chill of +desolation touched me. It would have been cheering to have news of +the Boy and his cavalcade <i>en route</i>.</p> +<p>By three o'clock Chambéry was well in sight, lying far +below us as we wound down from mountain heights, and looking, from +our point of view, in position something like an inferior Aosta. It +basked in a great sun-swept plain, and away to the left a lateral +valley, dimly blue, opened towards Modane and the Mont Cenis. +Descending, we found the resemblance carried on by a few ancient +châteaux and fortified farmhouses, and as we had now come +upon a part of the road which Joseph knew, he pointed out to me, in +the far distance, the little villa, Les Charmettes, where Rousseau +and Madame de Warens kept house together. Again and again I thought +we were on the point of arriving in the town, and had visions of +exchanging adventures with the Boy at the Hôtel de France; +but always the place seemed to recede before our eyes, elusive as a +mirage, alighting again five or six miles away; and this it did, +not once, but several times, with singular skill and accuracy.</p> +<p>At last, however, after a tedious tramp along a monotonously +level road, upon which we had plunged suddenly, we came into an old +town, all grey, with the soft grey of storks' wings. The place had +a mild dignity of its own—as befitted the ancient capital of +Savoie—and might have lived, if necessary, on the romantic +reputation of its ancient château, standing up high and +majestic above a populous modern street. There was an air of almost +courtly refinement that reminded me of the wide, sedate avenues of +Versailles; and no doubt this effect was largely due to the fine +statues and decorative grouping of the arcaded streets. One +monument was so imposing and so unique, that I forgot for a moment +my anxiety to find the Boy and hear his news. The huge pile held me +captive, staring up at a miniature Nelson column, supported on the +backs of four colossal elephants sculptured in grey granite of true +elephant-colour. These benevolent mammoths, not content with the +duty of bearing a tower of stone with a more than life-sized +general balancing on top of it, generously spent their spare time +in pouring volumes of water from wrinkled trunks into a huge basin. +Joseph knew that the balancing general, De Boigne, had used a vast +fortune made in the service of an Indian prince, to shower benefits +on his native town, as his elephants showered water, and that it +was in gratitude to him that Chambéry had raised the +monument; but I was disappointed to learn that the elephants had no +prototypes in real life. It would have satisfied my imagination to +hear that the soldier of fortune had returned from the Orient to +his birthplace, with the four original elephants following him like +dogs, having refused to be left behind. But nothing is quite +perfect in history, and one usually feels that one could have +arranged the incidents more dramatically one's self; indeed, some +historians seem to have found the temptation irresistible.</p> +<p>Joseph promised other choice bits of interest in and near +mountain-ringed Chambéry; but I had small appetite for +sightseeing without the Boy, and after my brief reverence to the +elephants, I hurried the muleteer and mule to the hotel.</p> +<p>At the door we were met by a porter, far too polite a person to +betray the surprise which my companions Joseph and Finois +invariably excited in civilisation. He helped to unfasten the pack, +and as it disappeared into the vestibule, I was about to bid Joseph +<i>au revoir</i>. But his face gave me pause. Like the key to a +cipher, it told me all the secret workings of his mind.</p> +<p>"You might wait here before putting up Finois," I said, "until I +enquire inside whether the young Monsieur and Innocentina have +arrived safely. No doubt they have, as we did not catch them up on +the road, and it would have been difficult to mistake the way. +Still––"</p> +<p>"<i>Voilà</i>, Monsieur!" exclaimed Joseph, his deep eyes +brightening at something to be seen over my shoulder.</p> +<p>I turned, and there was meek, grey Souris leading the way for +Innocentina and Fanny, who were trailing slowly towards us down the +street.</p> +<p>I was delighted to see them. Not until now had I realised how +beautiful was Innocentina, how engaging the two little plush-coated +donkeys. I loved all three.</p> +<p>"<i>Eh bien</i>, Innocentina!" I gaily cried. "How are you? How +is your young Monsieur?"</p> +<p>"He was well when I saw him last," returned Innocentina. "He +must be very far away by this time."</p> +<p>"Very far away?" I echoed her words blankly. "Yes, Monsieur. +Here is a letter, which he told me to deliver to you without fail. +I was not to leave Chambéry until I had put it into your +hand, myself. I was on my way to your hotel, to see if you had +arrived. Now that I have seen you"—here a starry flash at +Joseph—"I can begin my journey."</p> +<p>"Where, if I may ask?"</p> +<p>"Towards my home. Monsieur had better read his letter."</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 434px;"><a name="i348" id= +"i348"><img src="images/348.jpg" width="434" height="700" alt= +""VOILÀ, MONSIEUR!"" title= +""VOILÀ, MONSIEUR!"" /></a></div> +<p>I had taken the sealed envelope mechanically, without looking at +it. Now I fixed my eyes upon the address, which was written in a +firm, original, and interesting hand, that impressed me as +familiar, though I could not think where I had seen it. Certainly, +so far as I could remember, in all my journeyings with him I had +never happened to see the Boy's handwriting. Yet Innocentina said +this letter was from him.</p> +<p>Suddenly it occurred to me that I could do something more +enlightening than stare at the envelope: I could open it. I did so, +breaking a seal with the same monogram I had noticed on the gold +fittings in the celebrated bag. Apparently the entwined letters +were M.R.L.</p> +<p>"Forgive me, dear Man," were the first words I read, and they +rang like a knell in my heart. Without going further I knew what +was coming. I was to hear that I had lost the Boy.</p> +<p>"Dear Man, the Prince vanishes, not because he wishes it, but +because he must. He can't explain. But, though you may not +understand now, believe this. He has been happier in these +wanderings, since you and he were friends, than he ever was before. +You have been more than good to the troublesome 'Brat' who has +upset all your arrangements and calculations so often. Perhaps you +may never see the Boy any more. Yet, who knows what may happen at +Monte Carlo? Anyhow, whatever comes in the future, he will never +forget, never cease to care for you; and of one thing besides he is +sure. Never again will he like any other man as much as the One Man +who deserves to begin with a capital.</p> +<p>"Good-bye, dear Man, and all good things be with you, wherever +you may go, is the prayer of—Boy."</p> +<p>Perhaps never to see the Boy again! Why, I must be dreaming +this. I should wake up soon, and everything would be as it had +been. I had the sensation of having swallowed something very large +and very cold, which would not melt. Reading the letter over for +the second time made it no better, but rather worse. The Boy had +become almost as important in my scheme of life as my lungs or my +legs, and I did not quite see, at the moment, how it would be any +more possible to get on without one than the other.</p> +<p>Behold, I was stricken down by mine own familiar friend; yet no +wrath against him burned within me; there was only that cold lump +of disappointment, which seemed to be increasing to the size of a +small iceberg. Even lacking explanations, or attempt at them, I +knew that he had told the truth without flattery. He had wanted to +stay, yet he had gone. And he said that perhaps I might never see +him again! If I could have had my choice last night, whether to +have the Boy lopped off my life, or to lose a hand, the +probabilities are that I would have sacrificed the hand. But I had +been offered no choice.</p> +<p>I recalled our parting, and found new meaning in the words he +had spoken at his door. There was no doubt about it; even then he +had decided to break away from me.</p> +<p>I realised this, and at the same instant rebelled against the +decision. I determined not to accept it. He had vanished because of +the two Americans; exactly why, I could not even guess, but I was +certain that the reason was not to his discredit. To theirs, +perhaps, but not to his. Nevertheless, they were somehow to blame +for my loss, and if the young men had appeared at this moment, I +should have been impelled to do them a mischief.</p> +<p>The principal thing was, however, not to let them cheat me +irrevocably of my comrade. I would not depend solely upon that hint +about Monte Carlo. I would find out where he had gone, and I would +follow. Let him be angry if he would. His anger, though a hot flame +while it burned, never endured long.</p> +<p>"Did Monsieur leave here by rail?" I enquired of +Innocentina.</p> +<p>She shrugged her shoulders. "That I cannot tell."</p> +<p>"Do you mean you can't, or won't?"</p> +<p>"I know nothing, Monsieur, except that I have been paid well, +and told that I may go home as soon as I like, and by what route I +like, having delivered the letter to Monsieur. My young master gave +me enough to return with the donkeys to Mentone all the way from +Chambéry by rail if I chose; but I prefer to walk down, and +keep the extra money for my <i>dot</i>. It will make me a good +one."</p> +<p>I am not sure that, before disentangling a huge bottle-fly from +Fanny's long lashes, she did not glance under her own at Joseph, +when giving this information.</p> +<p>"Look here, Innocentina," I said beguilingly, "tell me which +way, and how, your young Monsieur has gone, and I will double that +<i>dot</i> of yours."</p> +<p>"Not if you would quadruple it, Monsieur. I promised my master +to say nothing."</p> +<p>"Couldn't you get absolution for breaking a promise?"</p> +<p>"No, Monsieur. I am not that kind of Catholic. It is only +heretics who break their promises, and take money for it—like +Judas Iscariot."</p> +<p>Joseph did not charge at this red rag, but looked so utterly +depressed that Innocentina's eyes relented.</p> +<p>"Very well," I said. "You deserve praise for your loyalty. I +ought not to have tried to corrupt it. But, you know, I shall find +out in the town, or at the railway station."</p> +<p>Innocentina smiled. "I do not think so, Monsieur."</p> +<p>"We shall see," I retorted. "Joseph, where is the railway +station?"</p> +<p>Joseph pointed, accompanying his gesture with directions. Then +he offered to be my guide, but I refused his services and left him +with Innocentina, having bidden him call at my room in the hotel +for instructions later.</p> +<p>But the prophecy of Innocentina the Seeress was fulfilled. I +could learn nothing of the Boy or his movements, at the <i>gare</i> +of Chambéry. Several trains had gone out, bound for several +destinations in different directions, during the past three hours, +and no one answering the description I gave of the Boy had been +seen to leave.</p> +<p>Sadder, but no wiser, I returned to the Hôtel de France, +and asked if a youth of seventeen, "with large blue eyes, chestnut +hair which curled, a complexion tanned brown, a panama hat, and a +suit of navy-blue serge knickerbockers," had lunched there.</p> +<p>The answer was no. Such a yoking gentleman had not come to the +hotel, nor had he been noticed in the town, either with or without +a young woman and a couple of donkeys.</p> +<p>I had no more than finished my questionings and gone up to my +room, when Joseph arrived—a wistful, expectant Joseph, with a +deep light of excitement burning in his eyes.</p> +<p>"Any news?" I asked.</p> +<p>"No, Monsieur, except that in an hour Innocentina starts to walk +on to Les Echelles with her <i>ânes</i>."</p> +<p>"She is energetic."</p> +<p>"The girl knows not what is the fatigue. Besides, each day less +on the road means so many more francs added to the <i>dot</i>."</p> +<p>"Innocentina seems very keen upon increasing that <i>dot</i>. +Has she anyone in view to share it with her?"</p> +<p>"She has not confided that to me, Monsieur."</p> +<p>"I suppose he would have to be a good Catholic?"</p> +<p>"Of that I am not so sure. I do not think she would object to a +good Protestant, if he would allow the children to be brought up in +her faith."</p> +<p>"The lady is brave. She takes time by the forelock."</p> +<p>"It is the wise way, Monsieur."</p> +<p>"Well, whoever he may be, I am sure <i>you</i> do not envy the +future <i>mari</i>, <i>dot</i> or no <i>dot</i>. Your opinion of +Innocentina––"</p> +<p>"Ah, it is changed, Monsieur, completely changed, I +confess."</p> +<p>"Then, after all, it is Innocentina who has converted you."</p> +<p>Joseph bent his head to hide a flush. "Perhaps, Monsieur, if you +put it in that way. Yet it was not of myself nor of Innocentina I +came to talk, but of the plans of Monsieur."</p> +<p>"Plans? I've no plans," I answered dejectedly.</p> +<p>"Will Monsieur wish to proceed to-morrow morning as usual?"</p> +<p>"Proceed where?" I gloomily capped his question with +another.</p> +<p>"On the way south, towards the Riviera, is it not? If we made an +early start, it might be possible to go by the route of la Grande +Chartreuse, and reach the monastery late in the afternoon. If +Monsieur wished to sleep there, travellers are accommodated at the +Sister House, which has been turned into an hôtellerie since +the expulsion of the Order."</p> +<p>I reflected a moment before replying. On the face of it, it +appeared like weakness to change my plans simply because I had been +deserted by a comrade whose very existence had been unknown to me +when first I made them. Yet, on the other hand, I had grown so used +to his companionship now, that the thought of continuing my journey +without him was distasteful. With the Little Pal, no day had ever +seemed too long, no misadventure but had had its spice. Lacking the +Little Pal, the vista of day after day spent in covering the +country at the rate of three miles an hour loomed before me +monotonous as the treadmill. My gorge rose against it. I could not +go on as I had begun. Why punish myself by a diet of salt when the +savour had gone?</p> +<p>"Joseph," I said at last, "the disappearance of the young +Monsieur has been a blow to me, I admit. It has destroyed my +appetite for sightseeing, for the moment, at all events. I can't +rearrange my plans instantly; but this I have determined. I'll end +my walking-tour here. What to do afterwards I will make up my mind +in good time, but meanwhile, I won't keep you dancing attendance +upon me. You will be anxious to get back home––"</p> +<p>"Monsieur, I have no home." There was despair in Joseph's tone, +and suddenly the keen point of truth pierced the armour of my +selfishness. Poor Joseph, facing exile—from +Innocentina—and keeping his countenance politely, while I +densely discoursed of "blows"! Being a muleteer "farmed out" by a +master, he was at the mercy of Fate, and temporarily I represented +Fate. He could not journey on southwards, whither his heart was +wandering, unless I bade him go. This fine fellow, this old +soldier, was as much at my orders as if I had been a king.</p> +<p>"If you aren't in a hurry to get back to Martigny, Joseph," said +I, changing my tone, "I'll tell you what you can do for me. You may +take some of my luggage down to the Riviera. I'm expecting a +portmanteau to arrive here by rail to-night or to-morrow morning, +with plenty of clothing in it. But there are those hold-alls which +Finois has carried for so long. I can't travel about with them in +railway carriages; at that I draw the line; yet if I sent them by +<i>grande vitesse</i>, their contents would be injured or stolen. +Take them down to Monte Carlo for me. I shall go there sooner or +later, to meet some friends of mine who are motoring, and I shall +stop at the Royal."</p> +<p>Joseph's face would have put radium to shame, with the light it +generated.</p> +<p>"Monsieur is not joking? He is in earnest?" the poor fellow +stammered.</p> +<p>"Most certainly. And when we meet on the Riviera, we will talk +over a scheme for your future of which I've been thinking. If you +would like to buy Finois of your patron, and two or three other +animals only less admirable than he, setting up in business for +yourself, I think I know a man who might advance you the +money."</p> +<p>"Oh, Monsieur!"</p> +<p>Had there been a little more of the French, or a little less of +the Swiss, in honest Joseph's blood, I think that he would have +fallen on his knees and rained kisses on my mild-stained boots. The +Swiss upped the balance, luckily for us both, and kept him erect; +but there was a suspicious glitter in his deep eyes, and a sudden +pinkness of his respectable brown nose, which gave to his "Oh, +Monsieur!" more meaning than a volume of protestations.</p> +<p>His hand came out impulsively, then flew back humbly to his +side, but I put out mine and grasped it.</p> +<p>"Monsieur, I would die for you," he said.</p> +<p>"I would prefer," I returned, "that you should live—for +Innocentina."</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"><img src= +"images/357.gif" width="300" height="169" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id= +"CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</p> +<h4>The Strange Mushroom</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Have you any commission from your lord +to negotiate with<br /></span> <span> my face?"<br /></span> +<span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 24em">—Shakespeare.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>When Joseph had gone, with his pockets and his heart both full +to bursting, I felt much like the captain of a small fishing +vessel, wrecked in strange seas, who has seen his comrades depart +on rafts, while he stayed on board his sinking ship alone with +three biscuits and a gill of water. There was also a certain +resemblance between me and a well-meaning plant which has been +pulled up by its roots just as it had begun to grow nicely, and +then stuck into the earth again, upside down, to do the best it +can.</p> +<p>I was not quite sure yet which was up or down, and which way I +had better grow, if at all. There was, however, an attraction in a +southerly direction: letters were to be forwarded to me at +Grenoble, and there would probably be one from Jack or Molly +Winston, saying when and where they might be expected to come upon +the scene with Mercédès. Finding me stranded, they +would doubtless take pity upon my forlornness, and offer me a lift +in their car, down to the Riviera. And to the Riviera I still felt +strongly impelled to go, though I had no longer the Contessa for an +excuse. She had been engaged, in my little drama, for the part of +"leading juvenile," with the privilege of understudying the +heroine. But she had not shown an aptitude for either rôle, +and having stepped down to that of first walking lady, she had +minced off my stage altogether. Now the cast was filled up without +her, though strangely filled, since after the first act there had +been no leading lady at all. Nevertheless, having arranged a scene +at Monte Carlo I could not persuade myself to give it up, though it +would not be played, in any event, at the Contessa's villa.</p> +<p>The Boy had vanished, and the sole word he had left was that I +had better not count upon seeing him again. But the more I thought +of it, the less necessity I saw for taking him at that word. He +perhaps flattered himself that he had picked up all clues and +carried them off with him in the wonderful bag. But he had +purposefully hinted that "something might happen at Monte Carlo," +and I hoped the something might mean that, after all, the Boy would +materialise with his sister at the Hôtel de Paris on the +night after our arrival. In any case, if the Princess were going to +Monte Carlo, there would the Fairy Prince be also, and I did not +see why I should not be there too, whether Molly and Jack tooled me +down in their motor or not.</p> +<p>Fifteen minutes after Joseph had gone from my life to mingle his +lot with Innocentina's, I had my own plans definitely mapped out. I +would stop in Chambéry overnight, to wait for the +portmanteau with which I had kept up a speaking acquaintance in the +larger centres of civilisation, during the tour, and next day I +would go on to Grenoble by train, there to pick up letters.</p> +<p>The luggage duly arrived in the evening, so that there was no +bar to the carrying out of my design; and, accordingly, after my +coffee on the following morning, I conscientiously went out to see +more of the town before taking the eleven-o'clock train.</p> +<p>It was only ten, and as my arrangements were all made, I had +time for strolling—too much to suit my mood. The murmur of an +automobile preparing to take flight attracted me from a distance, +for it seemed that the voice had the cadence of a car I knew. I +hastened my steps, turned a corner, and there, in front of the +Hôtel de France's rival, stood a fine motor, panting, +quivering in eagerness to dart away.</p> +<p>It was a Mercédès, and if it were not Molly +Winston's wedding-present Mercédès, it was that +Mercédès' twin. But there was a strange mushroom in +it.</p> +<p>I would have known Molly's mushroom among a thousand. It was +small, round, compact, and of a dark cream colour. This mushroom +was flatter, wider, more expansive, with an exceedingly slender +stem; and in tint it was of a pale silvery grey. It grew up +straight and slim in the tonneau of the car, all alone, +unaccompanied by any similar growths, or any guardian goblins; and +several servants of the hotel were grouped about, waiting to see it +off.</p> +<p>I waited, too, sniffing adventure with the scent of petrol, and +interested in the resemblance to that good Dragon with which I had +been friends; but I was about to turn away at last when a form +which had evidently been squatting behind the car on the other +side, rose to its feet. It was that of Gotteland, and had he been a +long-lost uncle from Australia with his pockets crammed with wills +in my favour, I could not have been more delighted to see him.</p> +<p>As I rushed forward to claim him as my own, Molly and Jack came +out of the hotel.</p> +<p>"Monty!" Jack cried, with a sincerity of joy which warmed my +heart. As for his wife, she cried not at all, but merely +gasped.</p> +<p>"What luck for me!" I exclaimed, shaking both Molly's hands so +hard that it was fortunate (as she remarked afterwards) that she +had on "only her rainy-day rings." "I did hope to hear of you at +Grenoble, but scarcely dared think of actually meeting you, even +there. In two minutes more I should have been on the way to catch +my train."</p> +<p>"Here's your train, old man," said Jack, indicating the +throbbing automobile.</p> +<p>"My one true love, Mercédès," I remarked, looking +fondly at the car.</p> +<p>"Sh!" whispered Molly, with an odd little sound which was like a +giggle strangled at birth. "She's there."</p> +<p>"Who?" I started, bewildered.</p> +<p>"Mercédès."</p> +<p>"I know; the darling! I long to have my hands on her again."</p> +<p>"Oh, Lord Lane, do be careful! You don't understand. I mean the +real Mercédès. The girl who gave me the car. She's +sitting there. She'll hear you."</p> +<p>"It's all right," said Jack. "The motor's making such a row, she +wouldn't catch the words."</p> +<p>"She joined us h—lately," explained Molly hurriedly.</p> +<p>"I remember now. You used to talk rather a lot about her and +want us to meet."</p> +<p>"Well, you have your wish now, dearie," Jack chimed in. "You can +introduce them with your own fair hand."</p> +<p>"Wait—wait." Molly whispered piteously, as Jack would have +taken a step forward, and pulled me with him, a peculiarly +dare-devil look in his handsome eyes. "For <i>goodness'</i> sake, +Jack!"</p> +<p>Her voice restrained him, and again we were in conclave. "You +see, Lord Lane, it's rather awkward. We want you to go on with us, +immensely, but––"</p> +<p>"You're awfully good," I hastily cut in. "But I quite see, and I +couldn't think of––"</p> +<p>"Oh, please, that isn't what I meant. Now, will you and Jack +both be quite quiet, like angels, and let me talk for a while, till +I make everything clear to everybody, about everybody else. Don't +grin. I know I'm not beginning well, but the beginning's the +difficult part. We wrote to you, Lord Lane, to Grenoble, saying we +would be arriving about as soon as you got the letter. We didn't +know whether we could tear you away from your mule or not; but +anyhow, we should have seen each other and got each other's news. +Then this friend of mine joined us unexpectedly; at least, we +thought we might meet her, but we weren't at all sure she would +want to travel with us. However, here she is, and she's a perfect +dear; and next to Jack and Dad I love her better than anybody else +in the world. Besides, she gave me the car; and you know I told you +how ill she had been, and how she was travelling for her health. +Altogether we have to consider her before anyone; and I want to +know, Lord Lane, if you'll think me a regular little beast if I +speak to her first, before we arrange anything?"</p> +<p>I opened my lips to answer with a complimentary protest, but +before I could frame a word, she had rushed to the two +Mercédès, her mushroom hanging limp in her hand, and +had entered into a low-voiced conversation with the human +namesake.</p> +<p>"Look here, Jack; I wouldn't put you out for the world," I said. +"As for tearing myself from the mule, that surgical operation has +already been performed, and I was going on to Monte +Carlo––"</p> +<p>"That's our goal," cut in Jack. "Molly maligned the place of old +days. Now I want her to do it justice. You and I will show her +Monte at its best."</p> +<p>"Yes, but I'll go down by rail, and meet you there."</p> +<p>"You'll do nothing of the kind. Molly's friend is one of the +most charming girls alive, but she has passed through a great +trouble, followed by a severe illness. She came to us in some +distress of mind, and we are bound, as Molly says, to consider her, +as she may not think herself equal to intercourse with strangers. +However, all that's necessary is to explain you to her, as I am now +explaining her to you, and the thing settles itself. There can be +no question of your not going on with us. You and +Mercédès won't interfere with each other in the +least, because, you see, now that you've turned up, the thing is to +get down quietly, and—and enjoy ourselves at the journey's +end. We'll make a rush of it. In any case, Molly would have sat in +the tonneau with her friend, and the only difference you will make +in our arrangements is that I shall have you as a companion in +front instead of Gotteland."</p> +<p>At this moment our fair emissary returned from the enemy's +camp.</p> +<p>"Mercédès says that not for anything would she +cheat us out of your company," announced Molly. "Only she hopes you +won't think her rude and horrid if she doesn't talk. There's her +message; but I really think, Lord Lane, that the best thing is to +take no notice of the poor child. She is very nervous and upset +still, but I hope in a few days she will be herself again. I won't +even introduce you to her. She and I will sit in the tonneau, as +quiet as two kittens, while you and Jack in front can talk over all +your adventures since you met, and forget our existence. We shan't +be so very long on the way, shall we, Jack?"</p> +<p>I began another "but," which was scornfully disregarded by both +Jack and Molly. I might as well consent now, as later, they said, +since they would simply refuse to leave Chambéry without me, +and the longer I took to see reason, the more <i>essence</i> would +the motor be wasting.</p> +<p>Thus adjured, I allowed myself to be hustled off to my hotel by +Jack, who insisted on accompanying me lest I should turn traitor on +the way. In ten minutes Gotteland would drive the car to the door +of the France, and I was expected to be ready by that time. My +packing had been done before I went out, by the united efforts of a +<i>valet de chambre</i> and myself; but now all had to be undone +again; my motoring coat (unused for weeks and aged in appearance by +as many years) dragged up from the lowest stratum with my +goblin-goggles, and a few small things dashed into a weird +travelling bag which a confused porter rushed out to buy at a +neighbouring shop. While I settled the hotel bill, Jack arranged to +have my portmanteau expressed to Grenoble, and by a scramble our +tasks were finished when the voice of the car called us to the +door.</p> +<p>The whole incident had happened so quickly, that I had no time +to realise the change in my circumstances, when, "sole, like a +falling star," the motor "shot through the pillared town" with me +on board.</p> +<p>There had been a time when I shrank from the name of the car's +giver, believing that Molly thrust it too obviously into notice. +When "that dear girl Mercédès" had threatened to +enter our conversations I had often kept her out by force; but now +it seemed that I, not she, was the intruder, and in a far more +material way. This was, perhaps, poetical justice, but I did not +grudge it, since it was evident that Molly no longer cherished the +intention of dangling her friend the heiress before me like a +brilliant fly over the nose of an impecunious trout. On the +contrary, she warned me off the premises. We were to hurry down to +Monte Carlo as quickly as possible, that the situation might not be +overstrained. Mercédès in the tonneau, I in the front +seat, were to live and let live during the rapid journey, and this +was well.</p> +<p>I dimly remembered that, in the first days of our journey in +search of a mule, Molly had vaunted her friend's beauty, but the +silver-grey mushroom prevented me from verifying or disproving this +statement. The small, triangular talc window was greyly-opaque, or +else there was a grey veil underneath; my one glance had not told +me which, and I neither dared nor desired to steal another.</p> +<p>Jack supplied the blanks in our somewhat broken correspondence, +by skimming over the details of their doings; how they had spent +most of their time since our parting in Switzerland; how they had +arrived at Aix-les-Bains the very morning we left for Mont Revard; +and how they had motored to Chambéry yesterday +afternoon.</p> +<p>"Think of my being in the same town with you for more than +twelve hours, and not knowing it!" I exclaimed. "To borrow an +expression of Mrs. Winston's, I was jolly 'low in my mind' last +night, and the very thought that you two were close by would have +been cheering."</p> +<p>I had not dared address myself to Molly in the other camp, but +evidently all communication between the lines was not to be broken +off. The wind must have carried my words to her ear, for she bent +forward, leaning her arm on the back of our seat.</p> +<p>"Did you say you were miserable last night?" she inquired with +flattering eagerness.</p> +<p>"Yes. Awfully miserable."</p> +<p>"Poor Lord Lane! I haven't understood yet exactly why you +suddenly gave up your walking tour, and got the idea of going on by +rail. I thought from your letters you were having such a good time, +that we could hardly bribe you to desert—your party and come +with us, even at Grenoble."</p> +<p>"My party deserted me, and that was the end of my 'good time,'" +I replied, charmed with Molly's conception of the rôle of a +"quiet kitten" whose existence was to be forgotten. As if any man +could ever forget hers!</p> +<p>"What, your nice Joseph and his Finois?" she inquired.</p> +<p>"When I speak of 'my party' I refer particularly to the boy I +wrote you about," I returned, far from averse to being drawn out on +the subject of my troubles, though I had resolved, were I not +intimately questioned, to let them prey upon my damask cheek.</p> +<p>"Oh, yes, that wonderful American boy. Did he keep right on +being wonderful all the time, or did he turn out disappointing in +the end?"</p> +<p>"Disappointing!" I echoed. "No; rather the other way round. He +was always surprising me with new qualities. I never saw anyone +like him."</p> +<p>"Ah, perhaps that's because you never knew other American boys. +I dare say if I'd met him I shouldn't have found him so +remarkable."</p> +<p>"Yes, you would," I protested. "There could be no two opinions +about it."</p> +<p>"Is he good-looking?"</p> +<p>"Extraordinarily. Such eyes as his are wasted on a boy—or +would be on any other boy. If he'd been a girl, he would have been +one for a man to fall head over ears in love with."</p> +<p>"You're enthusiastic! Hasn't he got any sisters?"</p> +<p>"He has one, who is supposed to be like him. I was +promised—or partly promised—to meet her in Monte Carlo, +at the end of our journey, where the Boy expected her to join +him."</p> +<p>"Oh, has he been called away by her?"</p> +<p>"I don't think so."</p> +<p>"I fancied that might have been why he left you."</p> +<p>"I don't know what his reason was, but I have faith enough in +the little chap to be sure it was a <i>good one</i>."</p> +<p>"Sure you didn't bore each other?"</p> +<p>"If you had ever seen that boy, you'd know that the word 'bore' +would perish in his presence like a microbe in hot water. As for +me—I don't believe I bored him. He did say once that we would +part when we came to the 'turnstile,' meaning the point of mutual +boredom, but I can't believe the turnstile was in his sight. I +think that his resolution to go was sudden and unexpected."</p> +<p>"He must have been an interesting boy, and you ought to be +grateful to Fate for sending him your way because apparently he +gave you no time for brooding on the past."</p> +<p>"The past? Oh, by Jove, I couldn't think what you meant for a +second. You have a right to say 'I told you so,' Mrs. Winston. +There was nothing in all that, you know, except a little wounded +vanity; and you know, <i>you</i> are really the Fate I have to +thank for finding it out so soon."</p> +<p>"What <i>do</i> you mean?" exclaimed Molly, almost as if she +were frightened. "I did nothing at all. I––"</p> +<p>"You took me away with you and Jack. The rest followed."</p> +<p>"Oh, <i>that</i>. I didn't understand. Well, as we shall get you +down to Monte Carlo soon, you will meet your boy again."</p> +<p>"I wish I could be sure."</p> +<p>"I thought you said it was an engagement."</p> +<p>"Only conditional. Besides, had we walked, we should have been +weeks on the way. I wonder you don't laugh in my face, Mrs. +Winston, but you'd understand if you could have met the Boy."</p> +<p>"I supposed Jack was your best friend," complained Molly.</p> +<p>"So he is. But this is different. I'm going to look for the Boy +at Monte Carlo. What I'm hoping is, that after all he may keep the +half-engagement he made to meet me there."</p> +<p>"When?"</p> +<p>"On the night after my arrival for a dinner at the Hôtel +de Paris, to be given in honour of him and his sister."</p> +<p>"You think he will?"</p> +<p>"It's worth going on the chance."</p> +<p>"You are the right kind of friend," said Molly, "and you deserve +to be rewarded, doesn't he, Jack?"</p> +<p>"Yes," Jack flung over his shoulder as he drove; "and I shall +swear a vendetta against everybody concerned, if he isn't."</p> +<p>This did not strike me as a particularly brilliant remark, but +Molly seemed to find it witty, for she laughed merrily, with a +certain impish ring in her glee, reminiscent of the Little Pal in +some moods. Evidently she had exhausted her long list of questions, +for, laughing still, she twisted her slim body half round in the +tonneau, turning a shoulder upon us. I took this as a signal that +Mercédès was now to have her share of attention, and +tactfully bestowed mine on Jack.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"><img src= +"images/369.gif" width="350" height="315" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id= +"CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</p> +<h4>The World without the Boy</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"A ... somewhat headlong +carriage."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 10em">—R.L. Stevenson.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>Though I had given Molly eyes and ears during her long +catechism, I had been vaguely aware, nevertheless, that on leaving +the Hôtel de France we had crossed a bridge over the almost +dry and pebbly bed of the insignificant Leysse; that we had passed +the stately elephants, and a robust marble lady typifying France in +the act of receiving on her breast a slender Savoie; that we had +caught a last glimpse of the château, and were spinning along +a well-kept road, cheek by jowl with the railway to Lyons.</p> +<p>From a high mountain on our left, the silver Cascade de Coux +fell vertically, like a white horse's tail; and I smiled to see, as +we flashed by, a little house which honoured a valiant foe against +whom I had fought, with the name of the Café de Boers.</p> +<p>Up and up mounted our road, cresting green billows of rolling +mountain land. We were running towards the boundary of Savoie, into +Dauphiné, a country which I had never seen. The Boy and I +had talked of entering it together and visiting its Seven Marvels, +the very possession of which made it seem in our eyes alluringly +mediæval. Had he been my companion still, we would have been +travelling some hidden side-path, where doubtless Joseph and +Innocentina, chaperoned by <i>les animaux</i>, were happily +straying at this moment. I could almost hear the donkey-girl's +mechanically constant, warning cry, "Fanny-anny, Fanny-anny! +Souris-ouris!" like a low undertone of accompaniment to the thrum +of the motor.</p> +<p>The fancied sound smote me with homesickness, and to coax my +mind from the disappointment which still rankled, I asked Jack when +he would let me try my hand at driving.</p> +<p>"Not here," said he with a smile, which was instantly explained +by an abrupt plunge from the top of a long hill down into a cutting +between lichen-scaled rocks, tracing with our "pneus" as we went a +series of giddy zig-zags. We had hardly twisted one way when lo! +the time had come to twist in the opposite direction, and nowhere +had we a radius of more than twenty yards in which to perform our +tricks.</p> +<p>"I couldn't have done that as well as you did it, I confess," +said I, with becoming modesty.</p> +<p>"It's easy enough when you've got the knack," replied the +"Lightning Conductor."</p> +<p>"So, no doubt, is reeling, writhing, and fainting in coils. +Motoring down these serpentine hills is like hurling yourself into +space, and trusting to Providence."</p> +<p>"So is all of life," said Jack. "A timid man might say the same +of getting out of bed in the morning."</p> +<p>"Even I can do the trick," cut in Molly, who was taking a +temporary interest in our affairs again. "At least, I can this +year, now that chickens are better than they used to be."</p> +<p>"They <i>are</i> looking nice and fat this summer" I judicially +remarked.</p> +<p>"I don't mean that," explained Molly. "But they are more +sensible. Last year, before Jack and I were married, chickens were +so bad that I used to dream of nothing else in my sleep. I had +chicken nightmares. The absurd creatures never would realise when +they were well off, but even in the midst of laying a most +important egg on one side of the road, our automobile had only to +come whizzing along to convince them that salvation depended on +getting across to the other. This year they seem to have formed a +sort of Chicken Club, a league of defence against motors, and to +have started a propaganda."</p> +<p>My imagination tricked me, or this theory of Molly's evoked a +faint sound of stifled mirth in the heart of the mysterious +mushroom. In haste I turned away, lest I should be suspected of +regarding it, and Jack began to pump my memory mercilessly for what +it might retain of his driving lessons. Luckily, I had forgotten +nothing, and I was able to demonstrate my knowledge by pointing to +the various parts of the machine with each glib reference I +made.</p> +<p>By-and-bye, we came to a place where a grotto was "much +recommended"; but swallows, southward bound, do not stop in their +flight for grottos. We darted by, thundered through the humming +darkness of Napoleon's tunnel, and flashed out into a startling +landscape, as sensational as the country of the "Delectable +Mountains" in "Pilgrim's Progress." The cup-like valley was ringed +in by mountains of astonishing shapes; it was nature posing for a +picture by John Martin. In the fields were dotted characteristic +Dauphiné houses, little elfin things with overhanging roofs +like caps tied under their chins.</p> +<p>Soon, we raced into the main street of tiny Les Echelles, +whence, in the good old days, fair Princess Beatrice of Savoie went +away to wed with the famed Raymond of Provence. We whisked through +the village, and down the valley to St. Laurens du Pont, and the +entrance to that great rift between mountains which leads to the +monastery of the Grande Chartreuse.</p> +<p>As we plunged into the narrow jaws of the superb ravine, a wave +of regret for the Boy swept over me. He and I had talked of this +day—the day we should see the deserted monastery hidden among +its mountains; now it had come, and we were parted.</p> +<p>The society of Jack and Molly and the motor car could make up +for many things, but it could not stifle longings for the Little +Pal. Besides, magnificent as was Mercédès (the +Dragon, not the Mushroom) I felt that Finois and Fanny-anny would +have been more in keeping with the place. I was too dispirited to +care whether or no my eyes were filled with dust; therefore I had +not goggled myself, and I think that Jack must have gathered +something of my thoughts from my long face.</p> +<p>"How would you like to get out and walk here, like pilgrims of +old?" he asked. "It will be too much for the girls, but Gotteland +will drive them up slowly, not to be too far in advance. American +girls, you'll find, if you ever make a study of one or more of +them, can do everything in the world except—walk. There they +have to bow to English girls."</p> +<p>"That's because we've got smaller feet," retorted Molly. "Where +an English girl can walk ten miles we can do only five, but it's +quite enough. And we have such imaginations that we can sit in this +automobile and fancy ourselves princesses on ambling palfreys."</p> +<p>It was close to the deserted distillery of the famous liqueur +that we parted company, the car, piled with our discarded +great-coats, forging ahead up the historic path. The little tramway +that used to carry the cases of liqueur to the station at +Fourvoirie was nearly obliterated by new-grown grass; the vast +buildings stood empty. Never again would the mellow Chartreuse +verte and Chartreuse jaune he fragrantly distilled behind the high +grey walls, for the makers were banished and scattered far +abroad.</p> +<p>We lingered for a moment at the narrow entrance to Le +Désert, where the rushing river Guiers foams through the +throttled gorge, giving barely room for the road scored along the +lace of the cliff. It was like a doorway to the lost domain of the +monks, and Jack and I agreed that St. Bruno was a man of genius to +find such a retreat. A retreat it was literally. St. Bernard had +taken his followers to a place where, suffering great hardships, +they could best devote their lives to succouring others; but St. +Bruno's theory had evidently been that holy men can do more good to +their kind by prayer in peaceful sanctuaries than by offering more +material aid.</p> +<p>Here,—at the doorway of St. Bruno's long +corridor,—the ravine, the old forge, the single-arched bridge +flung high across the deep bed of the roaring torrent, had all +grouped themselves as if after a consultation upon artistic effect. +Once, there had been an actual gate, built alike for defence and +for limitation, but there were no traces of it left for the eye of +the amateur.</p> +<p>We passed into the defile, and the motor car was out of sight +long ago. Higher and higher the brown road climbed. The mountains +towered close and tall. Great pillared palaces of rock loomed +against the sky like castles in the air, incalculably far above the +green heads and sloping shoulders of the nearer mountain +slopes.</p> +<p>I had thought that green was never so green as in the Valley of +Aosta, but here in St. Bruno's corridor there was a new richness of +emerald in the green carpet and wall hangings, such as I had not +yet known. It was green stamped with living gold, in delicate +fleur-de-lis patterns where the sun wove bright threads; and high +above was the ceiling of lapis lazuli, in pure unclouded blue.</p> +<p>We heard no sound save the voices of unseen woodcutters crying +to each other from mountain slope to mountain slope, the resonant +ring of their axes, striking out wild, echoing notes with a +fleeting clang of steel on pine, and now and again the sudden +thunder-crash of a falling tree, like the roar of a distant +avalanche.</p> +<p>By-and-bye we came to the aërial bridge which spans the +Guiers Mort, slender and graceful as the arch of a rainbow, and as +we gazed down at the far, white water hurling itself in sheets of +foam past the detaining rocks, the sharp toot of a horn broke +discordantly into the deep-toned music. A motor car sprang round an +abrupt curve and flashed by, but not so quickly that I did not +recognise among the six occupants the two young Americans of Mont +Revard. They passed me as unseeingly as they did the scenery: for +they were talking as fast to two pretty girls opposite them in the +tonneau, as if the girls had not been talking equally fast to them +at the same time. I bore the pair a grudge, and the sight of them +brought back the consciousness of my injury.</p> +<p>St. Bruno, fortunate in many ways, was a lucky saint to have so +beautiful a bridge named after him. And as we climbed the brown +road—moist with tears wept by the mountains for the banished +monks—it seemed to us that the scenery was always leading up +to him, as a preface leads up to the first chapter of a book. We +went through tunnels as a thread goes through the eye of a needle; +we wound round intricate turns of the road; we came upon pinnacle +rocks; and then, at last, when we least expected the climax of our +journey, we dropped into a great green basin, rimmed with soaring +crags. In the midst stood an enormous building, a vast +conglomeration of pointed, dove-grey roofs and dun-coloured walls, +a city of slate and stone spread over acres of ground and seeming a +part of the impressive yet strangely peaceful wilderness.</p> +<p>Looking at the vast structure, I was ready to believe that St. +Bruno had waved his staff in the shadow of a rough-hewn mountain, +saying: "Let there be a monastery," and suddenly, there was a +monastery; but our motor, quivering with nervous energy before a +door in the high wall, snatched me back to practicalities.</p> +<p>Molly, leaning quietly back in the tonneau beside the Perpetual +Mushroom, saw us coming from afar off, and waved a hand of absurd +American smallness. By the time we were within speaking distance, +she was out of the car and coming toward us.</p> +<p>"We were so hungry, that we lunched while we waited," she +explained, "so now you and Jack can go to the hôtellerie and +have something quickly. We'll walk in the woods until you come +back, and then, as Mercédès doesn't seem to mind, +we'll all go into the monastery together."</p> +<p>It was not until the door of the Grande Chartreuse had opened to +receive us, and closed again behind our backs, shutting us into a +large empty quadrangle, that the Spirit of the place took us by the +hand.</p> +<p>Over the steep grey roofs (pointed like monkish hands with +finger-tips joined in prayer) we gazed up at mountain peaks, grey +and green, and pointing also to a heaven which seemed strangely +near.</p> +<p>The spell of the vast, the stupendous silence fell upon us. +Somehow, Molly drifted from me to Jack as we walked noiselessly on, +led by a silent guide, as if she craved the warm comfort of a loved +presence, and for a few brief moments the veiled +Mercédès paced step for step beside me. But we did +not speak to each other.</p> +<p>What a tragic, tremendous silence it was! Yes, I wanted the Boy. +I should have been glad of the touch of his little shoulder. +Thinking of him thus, by some accident the sleeve of +Mercédès's coat brushed against mine. Still, not a +word from either of us. I did not even say, "I beg your pardon," +for that would have been to obtrude my voice upon the thousand +voices of the Silence; dead voices, living voices; voices of +passionate protest, voices of heartbreaking homesickness, of aching +grief and longing, never to be assuaged. Poor monks—poor +banished men who had loved their home, and belonged to it, as the +clasping tendrils of old, old ivy belong to the oak.</p> +<p>How dared we come here into this place from which they had been +driven, we aliens? I had not known it would grip me so by the +throat. How full the emptiness was!—as full to my mind as the +air is of motes when a bar of sunshine reveals them.</p> +<p>It was the Palace of Sleep, lost in the mountain forests, but +here there was no hope coming with the springing footsteps of a +blithe young prince. The sleepers in this palace could not be waked +by a wish, or a magic kiss, for they were ghosts, ghosts +everywhere—in the great kitchen, with all its huge polished +utensils ready for the meal which would never be cooked, and its +neat plain dishes on shelved trays, waiting to be carried to the +<i>grilles</i> of the <i>solitaires</i>; in the Brothers' refectory +where the egg-cups were ranged on long, narrow tables, for the meal +never to be eaten, where the chair of the Reader was waiting to +receive him; in the Fathers' refectory next door; in the dusky +corridors, their ends lost in shadow, where only the sad echoes and +the running water of the unseen spring were awake; in the chapels; +in the cemetery with its old carved stones and humbler wooden +crosses; and most of all in the wonderful cells (which were not +cells, but mansions), and in their high-walled gardens, the most +private of all imaginable spots on earth.</p> +<p>Wandering on and on, alone now, I felt myself the saddest man in +a twilight world. Why, I could not have put into words. Had the +brotherhood still peopled the monastery, I should have yearned to +join them, partly because I was sad, and partly because the +so-called cells were the most charming dwelling-places I had seen. +Each comprised a two-storied house in miniature, and each had its +garden, shut irrevocably away from sight or sound of any other. +Into one of these solitary abodes I went alone, and closed the door +upon myself and the ghosts. In fancy I was one of the order, in +retreat for a week, my only means of communication with the outer +world of the monastery (save for midnight prayers in the dim +chapel) a little <i>grille</i>. There was my workshop, where I +carved wood; there the narrow staircase leading steeply up to my +wainscoted bedroom, my study, and my oratory, with windows looking +down into the leafy square of garden, planted by my own hands. +Standing at one of those windows, I knew the anguish of parting and +loss which had torn the heart of the last occupant, before he +walked out of the monastery between double lines of Chasseurs +Alpins.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 242px;"><img src= +"images/379.gif" width="242" height="300" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id= +"CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</p> +<h4>The Fairy Prince's Ring</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Rub the ring, and the Genius will +appear."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 14em">—<i>Arabian Nights</i>.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>Down, down a winding and beautiful road we plunged, on leaving +the Grande Chartreuse, while the afternoon sunlight was still +golden. The monastery sank out of our sight as we went, as the moon +sinks into the sea, and was gone for us as if it were on the other +side of the world. Ah, but a sweet, warm world, and I was glad +after all that I was not a monk in carved oak cells and walled +gardens, but a free young man who could vibrate between the South +Pole and the Albany.</p> +<p>Molly said that the monastery of the Grande Chartreuse was like +a body without a soul; and in another breath she was asking Jack, +quite seriously, whether she could buy one of the cells from the +French Government, all complete, to "express" as a present to her +father in New York.</p> +<p>We flew, our motor humming like a bee, through exquisite forests +clothing the sides of a narrow ravine, where hidden streams made +music. Then in a twinkling we slipped out from the secret recesses +of scented woods, into a village almost too beautiful to accept as +reality, in a practical mood. There it lay, like a little heap of +pearls tossed down from the lap of one mountain at the feet of +another—and we were at St. Pierre de Chartreuse.</p> +<p>The tiny gem of beauty had caught the glory of Switzerland, and +the soft, fairy charm of Dauphiné. Its guardian mountain was +a miniature Matterhorn of indescribable grace and airy stateliness; +its lesser attendants formed a group of peaks, grey and green and +rose. As if enough gifts had not yet been bestowed upon the little +place at its christening, a playground of forest land, rolling up +over grassy slopes, had been given, with a neighbouring river, +swift and clear, to sing it a lullaby.</p> +<p>I had the impulse to clap my hands at St. Pierre de Chartreuse, +as at some "setting" excellently designed and carried out by the +most celebrated of scene painters. It was a place in which to stop +a month, finding a new walk for each new day; but one does not +discover walks in a motor car. One sweeps over the country, +sounding notes of triumph. We glanced at St. Pierre de Chartreuse +and sped on towards Grenoble, through a landscape markedly +different from that of Savoie.</p> +<p>In Savoie everything is done lavishly, on a large scale. The eye +roams over spaces of noble amplitude, expressing strength in +repose.</p> +<p>Dauphiné is livelier and daintier; more lovable, too. +Fairies or brownies (since no mortals do it) keep the whole country +like a vast private park. In crossing from Savoie into +Dauphiné one seemed to hear the allegro movement after +listening to the andante.</p> +<p>With each twist of our road the prospect changed. The mountains +grew, soared more abruptly, and the youthful-looking landscape +smiled at their strange shapes. As for the Cham Chaude, which had +been the Matterhorn at St. Pierre de Chartreuse, it now disguised +itself for some new part at every turn. Such lightning changes must +have been fatiguing, even for so extraordinarily versatile and +clever a mountain, for within fifteen minutes after playing it was +the Matterhorn, it was a giant, tonsured monk; a Greek soldier in a +helmet; a Dutch cheese; a hen, and a camel.</p> +<p>When Dragon Mercédès had rushed us up the great +Col, and whirled round a corner, suddenly a battalion of +magnificent white warrior-mountains sprang at us from an ambush of +invisibility. Then, no sooner had they struck awe to our hearts +with their warlike majesty, than, repentant, they turned into +lovely white ladies, bidding us welcome to the rich, ripe figs and +purple grapes which they held in their generous laps. I thought of +Saint Elizabeth of Hungary with her fair face, her candid sky-blue +eyes, her high, noble bearing, and her white dress caught up, +heaped with the roses into which her loaves had been transformed. +The tallest, purest white mountain of all I chose for sweet +Elizabeth, and that was none other than far Mont Blanc, floating +magically in pure blue ether, like a gleaming pearl.</p> +<p>Flying down the perfect road towards the plain where two rivers +met, loved, and wedded, the valley which was the white mountain's +lap blended vague, soft greens and blues and purples, hinting of +grapes and figs clustering under leaves. Here and there a vine had +been nipped by early frosts and flung its crimson wreaths, like +diadems of rubies, in a red arch across distant billows of mountain +snows.</p> +<p>Autumn was in the air, and though the grass and most of the +trees kept all their richness of summer greenery, a faint, pungent +fragrance of dying leaves and the smoke of bonfires came to one's +nostrils with the breeze. Mingled with the exciting scent of +petrol, it was delicious.</p> +<p>At the confluence of the newly married Drac and Isère +rose the domes and towers of stately old Grenoble, hoary with +history; and never a town had a nobler setting. Swooping down in +half-circles, as if our car had been a great bird of prey, we saw +the valley veiled with a silver haze, which wrapped the city in +mystery, while through this gleaming gauze the two rivers threaded +like strings of turquoise beads.</p> +<p>"How the Boy would have loved this!" I found myself exclaiming +over my shoulder to Molly. "He used often to talk of the great +charm of descending from heights upon places, especially new-old +places, which one has never seen before."</p> +<p>"Used he?" echoed Molly. "Why, that is rather odd. It is exactly +what Mercédès has just been saying."</p> +<p>The Perpetual Mushroom moved impatiently. I fancied by the +movement of her shoulder that she resented having her thoughts +passed on to me. I hastened to turn away, sorry that I had reminded +her inadvertently of my cumbersome existence; but I could not help +wondering what she had been thinking of in the monastery when we +had walked for full five moments side by side.</p> +<p>There was no disappointment when we had plunged into the silver +haze, torn it apart, and entered the town over a dignified bridge. +All around us spread the city old and new; above, on the hills, +were numerous châteaux, a strange fort, and the queerest of +ancient convents, like the cork castles I had seen in shop windows +and coveted as a child. In the town there were statues, many +statues—statues everywhere and in honour of everybody. Bayard +was there, dying; and there was a delightfully human old fellow +(humorous even in marble) who cleverly "lay low" till his worst +enemy had finished an elaborately fortified castle, then promptly +took it. Not a spacious modern street that had not at least one +magnificent old palace, a façade of joyous Renaissance +invention, or at least a crumbling mediæval doorway of divine +beauty; and nothing of romance was lost because Grenoble makes +gloves for all the world.</p> +<p>We sailed out of the town along the straight five-mile road to +the Pont de Claix, and now it was ho! for the Basses Alpes, over a +road which might have been engineered for an emperor's motoring; +past the quaint twin bridges spanning the stream side by side, +which our guide-book taught us to recognise as one of the Seven +Wonders (with capitals) of Dauphiné. Then came a valley, +almost theatrical in its romantic grace. One would not have +believed in it for a moment if one had seen it first in a sketch. +Even the railway, on which we soon looked down, was inspired to +gymnastic feats, leaping across chasms on giddy viaducts, and +twisting back upon itself in corkscrew tunnels. There were +thrilling retrospective views away to the giant Alps we were +leaving behind, but soon, nearer mountains crowded them out of +sight. The country grew wild, with a strange grimness, like the +face of a blind Fate; cultivation ceased in despair of success; and +alike on the bare uplands and in the deep-scored valleys there were +few signs of human life. Then, suddenly, in such a setting, we came +upon the grandest of the Seven Marvels, the most wonderful lone +rock in Europe, Mont Aiguille, more like an obelisk of incalculable +immensity than a mountain. Once, it had been considered unscalable, +and might have remained virgin until this century of hardy +climbers, had not Charles the Eighth had a fancy to hear (not to +see!) what was on top. Up went a few of his bravest satellites, +hoisting themselves on to the aërial plateau by means of ropes +and ladders, and bringing down wondrous tales of impossible +chamois, savage, brilliant-coloured birds, and singular vegetation, +which stories promptly went into all the geographies of the day and +were believed until a more practical explorer named Jean Liotard +climbed up, to please himself, in 1834.</p> +<p>We lost sight of this second Dauphiné Marvel (the last +one we were to see) just before running up the steep hill which led +down again into the dark jaws of another mountain pass. It was the +Col de la Croix Haute; and once past this gateway of the Alps the +landscape changed slowly and indefinably, here and there suggesting +that we were drawing nearer to the south. Though we were still +encompassed on every side by mountains, they had lost their Alpine +splendour of bearing; they stooped, or poked their chins.</p> +<p>The country was now all brown and green; and, surfeited with +beauty, it seemed to me that here was nothing great. We sped +through Aspres; through Serres, on its rocky promontory; and on +through Laragne, whose ancient inn with the sign of a spider gave a +name to the town. Pointed brown-green mountains were crowned with +pointed green-brown ruins, hoary after much history-making; and at +the pointed mountains' brown-green feet those +<i>avant-courriers</i> of the South, almond trees, had sat down to +rest on their way home.</p> +<p>Still we flew on; but at Sisteron Jack slowed down the motor. +Here was something too curious for even spoiled sightseers to pass +in a hurry.</p> +<p>The town struggled hardily up one side of a gorge, deep and +steep, where the Durance has forced its patient way through a huge +barrier of rock whose tilted strata correspond curiously on both +sides of the stream. Driving down to the low bridge across the +river, we gazed up at the town piled high above our heads, +culminating in a fortress which, cut in a dark square out of the +sky's turquoise, looked old as the beginning of the world.</p> +<p>Sisteron was brown, too, but not at all green; and beyond, for a +time, the country was still in a grim brown study, though it ought +to have remembered that it was now laughing Provence. It gave us +crumbling châteaux, high-perched ancient rock villages +without stint, and even a house (in the strangely named village of +Malijai) where Napoleon had lain, early in the Hundred Days; but +not a smile or a wild flower. Then, in a flash, its mood changed. +The savage land had been tamed by some whispered word of Mother +Nature, and grew youthfully pretty under our eyes. The poplars, in +their autumn cloaks of gold, fringed the road with flame, and +scattered largesse of red copper filings in our path; the dark +mountains drew up over their bare shoulders scarfs of crimson, and +the sun flung a million diamonds into the wide bed of the +Durance.</p> +<p>Night was falling as we drove into the lazy-looking +Provençal town of Digne, where all was green and sleepy, at +peace with itself and the world at large. Even the beautiful Doric +<i>château d'eau</i> was green with moss, and the water of +its fountain laughed in sleep; the famous basilica showed grey +through green lichen; its wonderful rose window had a green frame +of ivy, and the strange, sculptured beasts guarding the door had +saddles of green velvet mould.</p> +<p>We slept at Digne, and made an early morning start, the car +plunging us almost from the first into scenery which only Gustave +Doré could have imagined. Gnome villages and elfin castles +clung to slim pinnacles of rock which seemed to swing, like blown +branches, against the sky. Wild grey mountains bristled with rocky +spines, and trails of scarlet foliage poured like streams of blood +down their rough sides, completing the resemblance to fierce, +wounded boars.</p> +<p>Our road was a road of steep gradients, leading us through +gorges of a grandeur which would have been called appalling when +the world was a little younger, and more in awe of savage Nature. +If a midge could be provided with a proportionately tiny motor car, +and sent coasting at full tilt down a greased corkscrew, from the +handle to the sharp end of the screw, the effect would have been +somewhat that of our Mercédès leaping down the steep +defiles. We were vaguely conscious now and then that a river far +below us clamoured for our bones; on one side we had a precipice, +on the other a sheer face of towering cliff.</p> +<p>Gorges, glorious gorges! a plethora of gorges. No sooner were we +out of one, and drawing breath in a valley of golden sunshine and +silver river, but we were back in another majestic cañon. +Finest of all, perhaps, was the dark Clou de Rouaine; yet when we +sprang out into daylight to throw ourselves into the village of Les +Scaffarels, wonders did not cease. Now we were in the true +hinterland of the gay, blue-and-gold Riviera, following the course +of the Var, down to Nice, not many miles away. Wide and pebbly in +its bed by the bright pleasure town, here it led us through a +succession of more gorges, thundered us through rock tunnels, swept +us over bridges, and at last tumbled us into sight of a marvel +which must throw the whole seven of Dauphiné out of focus. +It was the town of Entrevaux, and to my shame I had never heard of +it. Where the narrow valley opens into a broad one, and the green, +swift flowing river sweeps in a sickle-curve round the base of a +high rock, Entrevaux shoots far up into the sky. The river bathes +its dark walls, protected by devices dear to the hearts of +mediæval Vaubans. Pepper-castor sentry-boxes jut out over the +water; a great drawbridge with portcullis, triple gateway, and neat +contrivances for pouring oil and molten lead upon besiegers, alone +gives access to the town; while behind the old crowded houses a +fortified stairway in the rock leads dizzily up to a stronghold +clamped upon a towering peak—a peak like a black, giant +wine-bottle, slender-necked, with the fort castle for the cork.</p> +<p>"If the Boy could see this with me!" I thought. And then, +because this place was like a fairy place, I remembered the fairy +prince's ring. Never had I followed his instructions; but I rubbed +it now, and wished that the genie of the ring would give me back +the Little Pal at Monte Carlo.</p> +<p>After Entrevaux, picturesque Puget-Theniers was an anticlimax; +though other fairy towns peered down from high crags and sheer +hillsides where they hung by wires caught in spider webs—and +though we passed through other gorges of grim beauty, my thoughts +had flown ahead of our swift car. I was glad when at last we came +into sight of a fair white city lying on the blue curve of a bay +and ringed with green hills, glad that our journey was all but +ended; for the fair city was Nice.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><img src= +"images/389.gif" width="400" height="356" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"><a name="i390" id= +"i390"><img src="images/390.jpg" width="700" height="479" alt= +""THE ROCK OF MONACO"." title= +""THE ROCK OF MONACO"." /></a></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id= +"CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</p> +<h4>The Day of Suspense</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Will you make me believe that I am not +sent for...?<br /></span> <span> Go to, go to, thou art a +foolish fellow!"<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 20em">—Shakespeare.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>From Nice to Monte Carlo over the Upper Corniche, was for us a +spin of less than two hours; and after that most beautiful drive in +the world, we slowed down before the green-shaded loggia of the +Royal, early in the afternoon. The hotel was only just open for the +season, and it was possible to have a choice of rooms. Jack +selected a glass-fronted suite, with a view more beautiful than any +other in the extraordinary little principality:</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"Magic casements<br /></span> +<span>Opening on the foam of perilous seas<br /></span> <span>In +faëry lands forlorn."<br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>which were, respectively, the harbour, and the rock of Monaco +(as old as Hercules), with its ancient towers dark against a sky of +pearl.</p> +<p>I was given a peep into Molly's salon, which appeared to be a +sort of crystal palace, with its two window-walls curtained by +trailing roses; and Jack kept me for a moment at the door.</p> +<p>"I suppose we shall meet for dinner about eight, won't we, no +matter what we may all choose to do meanwhile?" said he.</p> +<p>"Well—er—no," I mumbled, feeling a little foolish. +"I have—er—a sort of engagement for to-night. I think I +mentioned it before."</p> +<p>"What, to meet that missing Boy of yours?" asked Jack, in a +chaffing tone, so tactlessly loud that it must have been distinctly +audible to the ladies in the adjoining room, the door of which was +open. "Isn't that rather a mad idea? You were vaguely engaged to +meet your pal, I believe you said, on the night after your arrival, +at the Hôtel de Paris, for dinner. But considering the fact +that, if you'd walked down as you then intended, instead of +motoring, you would have been a fortnight on the way, isn't it +fantastic to expect that he'll turn up?"</p> +<p>"Not quite as fantastic as you think," I retorted, remembering +the terms of the Boy's letter, which had not been confided to Jack, +in their exactness. "Anyhow, I'm going on the off chance."</p> +<p>"You apparently credit the youth with clairvoyance, my dear +chap. Supposing he has come down here, how could he know that you'd +arrived?"</p> +<p>"I wired him from Digne, telegraphing to the Poste Restante at +Monte Carlo, where he would certainly think of enquiring, if he +took much interest in my movements. In that message I made it very +clear that I should expect him to stick to our bargain, and I have +an impression that he will."</p> +<p>"He may. But, look here, my dear fellow,"—Jack now had the +decency to lower his voice,—"have you no red blood in your +veins? Mercédès—the real +Mercédès—nearly restored to health and spirits +by her run with us through splendid air and scenery, is to unveil +her charms this evening at dinner. You have irreverently nicknamed +her the Perpetual Mushroom. To-night, you will see—but you +don't deserve to be told what you will see, if you haven't the +curiosity to find out at the first opportunity for yourself."</p> +<p>"Second opportunities, like second thoughts, are better than +first," said I. "I shall he delighted to take the second +opportunity of meeting Miss Mercédès—by the +way, what <i>is</i> her other name? You always seemed to take it +for granted that I knew; but if it was ever mentioned in the +summer, I've forgotten."</p> +<p>"You should be ashamed to admit that you could deliberately and +stoically forget a charming young lady's name, and you don't +deserve to have your memory jogged. You shall be told the heiress's +name when you meet her, and not before."</p> +<p>"I must possess my soul in patience until to-morrow, then," I +replied, "for to me one pal in the bush is worth twenty heiresses +in the hand, and I am now going out to scour the said bush."</p> +<p>"Which means the Casino, no doubt."</p> +<p>"I shall stroll in, when I've got rid of the dust. The Rooms are +the place to come across people."</p> +<p>"All right, gang your ain gait, my son, and I suppose I must +wish you luck. Daresay we shall see each other before bedtime."</p> +<p>A few hours later, I was walking down through the gardens, on my +way to the Casino. The young grass, sown last month, had already +become green velvet, and the flowers were as fresh as if they had +been created an hour ago. The air smelled of La France roses and +orange blossoms, though I saw neither. Some pretty Austrian girls +were walking about in muslin frocks and gauzy hats, though by this +time, in England, women were putting on their fur boas in deference +to autumn; and a few days ago I had been lost in a snowstorm on a +middle-sized mountain of Savoie.</p> +<p>As I drew near to the big white Casino, strains of music came to +me from the terrace, and thinking that the Boy might be there +listening to the band, I went through the tunnel and came out on +the beautiful flower-decked plateau overhanging the sea. Out of +season though it was, a great many people were sitting there, +drinking tea or coffee, and listening to "La Paloma."</p> +<p>The windows of the Casino were open, protected by awnings; birds +were taking their last flight, before going to bed in some orange +or lemon tree. The place was more charming than in the high season; +but the face I looked for was not to be seen, and I deserted the +Terrace for the Rooms.</p> +<p>I had not been to "Monte" since the Boer war; and when I had +gone through the formalities at the Bureau, and entered the first +<i>salle</i>, it struck me strangely to find everything exactly as +I had left it years ago.</p> +<p>The same heavy stillness, emphasised by the continuous chink, +chink of gold and silver, and broken only by the announcement of +events at different tables: "<i>Onze, noir, impair et +manque";—"Rien ne va plus";—"Zèro!</i>"</p> +<p>The same <i>onze</i>; the same <i>rien n'va plus</i>; the same +<i>zèro</i> heralded in the same secretly joyous, outwardly +apologetic tone, by the croupiers fortunate enough to produce it. +The same croupiers too;—(or do croupiers develop a family +likeness of face, of voice, of coat, as the years go chinking +zeroly on?). The same players, or their <i>doppelgängers</i>; +the same pictured nymphs smiling on the ornate walls. But there was +no Boy, no Boy's sister; and suddenly it occurred to me that I was +foolish to expect him. He was too childlike in appearance to have +obtained a ticket of admission to the gambling rooms.</p> +<p>Since it was useless to look for him here, and no other place +seemed promising at this hour, there was nothing to do but pass the +moments until time to change for dinner. Accordingly I watched the +tables. Once, like most men of my age, I had been bitten by the +roulette fever and had wrestled with "systems" in their thousands, +not so much for the mere "gamble," as for the joy of striving to +beat the wily Pascal at his own invention.</p> +<p>In those old days the wheel had been like a populous town for +me, inhabited by quaint little people, each living in his own snug +house; the Little People of Roulette. Not a number on the board but +his face was familiar to me; I would have known him if I had met +him in the street. There was sly, thin, dark little Dix, always +sneaking up on tiptoe when you did not want him, and popping out +behind your back. Business-like, successful, bustling Onze; +tactless but honest Douze; treacherous yet fascinating Treize; +blundering Seize; graceful, brunette Dix-Sept; and the faithful, +friendly Vingtneuf; feminine Rouge; brusque, virile Noir; mean +little, underbred Manque, and senile Passe; priggish Pair with his +skittish young wife; the Dozens, <i>nouveaux-riches</i>, thinking +themselves a cut above the humbler Simple Chances in Roulette +Society; the upright, unbending Columns; the raffish Chevaux; the +excitable Transversales, and the brilliant Carrés; charming +on first acquaintance, but fickle as friends; the twin, blind +dwarfs, the Coups des Deux; these and many more, down to the +wretched, worried Intermittances, ever in a violent hurry to catch +a train but never catching it. I could see them all, still; but I +saw them pass with calmness now, for I wanted to find the Boy.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 174px;"><img src= +"images/397.gif" width="174" height="300" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> +<p> </p> +<p class="heading"><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id= +"CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI</p> +<h4>The Boy's Sister</h4> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"><span>"A little thing would make me +tell<br /></span> <span> ...how much I lack of a +man."<br /></span> <span class="smcap" style= +"margin-left: 11em">—Shakespeare.<br /></span> +<span> <br /></span></div> +</div> +<p>The palace clock over in Monaco was striking eight as I reached +the steps of the Hôtel de Paris. Eight had been the hour +appointed. Now, here were both the Hour and the Man: but where was +the Boy?</p> +<p>I walked into the gay restaurant, with its window-wall, and the +long rank of candle-lit tables ready for dinner. Twenty people, +perhaps, were dining; but there was no slim figure in short black +jacket, Eton collar, and loose silk tie; no curly chestnut head; no +blue-star eyes. Cordially disliking everybody present, I marched +down the length of the room, and took a corner table, which was +laid for four. On the sparkling snow of the damask cloth burned a +bonfire of scarlet geraniums, and two red-shaded wax candles, of +the kind which the Boy used to call "candles with nostrils," made +wavering rose-lights on the white expanse.</p> +<p>I sat down, and an attentive waiter appeared at my elbow, having +apparently shot up from the floor like a pantomime demon.</p> +<p>"Monsieur desires dinner for one?" he deferentially +enquired.</p> +<p>"I am expecting one or perhaps two friends," I replied. "I will +wait for them half an hour. If they do not come by the end of that +time, I will dine alone."</p> +<p>"Will Monsieur please to regard the menu?"</p> +<p>"Yes, thanks."</p> +<p>He put it in my hand with an appetizing bow, which would have +been almost as good as an <i>hors d'œuvre</i> had my mood +been appreciative of delicacies. But it was not; neither could I +fix my mind upon the ordering of a dinner. My eyes would keep +jumping to the glass door at the far end of the room. "I want the +best dinner the house can serve," I said, meanly shifting +responsibility. "Not too long a dinner, but—oh well, you may +tell the chef I depend upon his choice."</p> +<p>"I quite understand, Monsieur. A dinner to please a lady, is it +not?"</p> +<p>"Yes. Something to please a lady." Was there not the Boy's +sister to be catered for in case she should come? In thinking of +him I must not forget her. But then, how improbable it was that my +poor dinner would be tasted by either!</p> +<p>"And for wine, Monsieur?"</p> +<p>I ordered at random the brand of champagne which had seemed like +nectar to the Boy and me that evening in far away Aosta, when the +compact of our friendship was first made. But yes, certainly, it +was to be had. And it should in an all little moment be on the +ice.</p> +<p>The waiter glided away to make that little moment less, and I +was left to measure it and its brothers. One after another they +passed. What a pity the moment family is such a large one! I stared +at the glass door. Other men's friends came in by it, but not mine. +I glared at the window close to which I sat. The peculiarly +theatrical effect of daylight melting into night, as seen at Monte +Carlo and nowhere else, added to the sensation of suspense I felt, +as when the curtain is about to rise on the crowning act of an +exciting play.</p> +<p>The scene out there in the Place was exactly like a setting for +the stage. The great white Casino, with the constant <i>va et +vient</i> to and from the open doorway; the bubbly domes of the +fantastically Moorish café across the way; the velvet grass, +unnaturally green in the electric light; the flower beds in the +garden a mosaic floor of coloured jewels; the air blue as a gauze +veil, with diamonds shining through its meshes; and over all a +serene arch of hyacinth sky, pulsing with smouldering ashes-of-rose +just above the purple line of mountain-tops.</p> +<p>A carriage drove quickly past the window, and stopped, far on at +the main door of the hotel. More people for dinner; but not the +Boy. I indistinctly saw a tall man and two ladies in long evening +cloaks step out; then I turned my eyes elsewhere.</p> +<p>Over on the brightly lighted balcony of the Café de Paris +opposite, the "out-of-season" musicians were playing "Sole Mio," +and the yearning strains of that simple, hackneyed Italian love +song stirred my veins oddly.</p> +<p>The glass door down at the other end of the room opened, and the +movement there caught my eyes. A girl came in, alone, and stood +still as if looking for someone—her slender white figure, in +its long flowing cloak, clearly outlined against a darker +background. She was alone, and there was nobody to introduce us, no +one to tell me who she was, but the beautiful face as so +marvellously like one I knew, that I jumped up instantly. The Boy's +sister! She must have come, with friends, and be looking for him. +Then, he was here, or would be!</p> +<p>I have a vague remembrance of treading on several trains as I +went to meet her, intending to introduce myself, as her brother had +not arrived. The restaurant seemed suddenly to have become a mile +long, and she was at the other end of it. So was I, at last, +holding out my hand to the white girl with a large black hat, and +diamond pins winking in the curly chestnut hair which they held in +place.</p> +<p>She was so astonishingly like him! Now that I had come closer, +the resemblance was incredible. The hair; the soft oval of the +little face; the eyes—the great, star-eyes!</p> +<p>I forgot everything but that one figure, lily-white, and swaying +like a lily, as it stood. Luckily, there was no one near to see, or +think of us. The diners dined, as if this were an ordinary night, +as if there might be other such nights again.</p> +<p>"Who are you?" I said as if in a dream.</p> +<p>A wave of colour swept up from the small, firm chin, to the +rings of chestnut hair. "I—why, I'm the Boy's sister," a low +voice stammered. "He—sent me. I've a letter from him. My +friends are outside. They will be here soon, but I—I came. +You are—I suppose you are Man––"</p> +<p>"And I know you are Boy, Boy himself. I mean, he never +was—for heaven's sake tell me—but no, I don't need to +ask. I've got my Little Pal back again, that's all."</p> +<p>"Oh, if I'd been sure you would guess—if I had known you +would talk to me like this, I should not have dared to come."</p> +<p>"Yes, you would. For you are brave; and you owed me this."</p> +<p>"I'm ashamed to look you in the face. What must you think of +me?"</p> +<p>"Think? I'm past thinking. I'm thanking the gods. If I could +think at all it would be of myself, that I was a fool not +to—and yet, <i>was</i> I a fool? You <i>were</i> a boy then. +Even the Contessa––"</p> +<p>"Oh, don't! Where can we sit? I must tell you +everything—explain everything. I can't wait. In a few minutes +Molly and Jack will come."</p> +<p>"Good heavens!"</p> +<p>"Yes. Didn't you guess? I'm the Perpetual +Mushroom,—Mercédès—Roy—Laurence. +Oh, Man, Man, how have I dared everything—and most of all +this meeting? To fight that duel would have been easier. I think I +would never have ventured after all, I would have stayed a Mushroom +always, and let the Boy be buried and forgotten; but Molly wouldn't +let me."</p> +<p>"God bless Molly."</p> +<p>I suppose I must have led her to my table, for at this juncture +we found ourselves there.</p> +<p>"Will Monsieur have dinner served?" breathed a voice out of the +hazy unrealities that shut us two in alone together.</p> +<p>"Dinner by-and-bye," I heard myself murmuring, as one brushes +away a buzzing insect. "Yes,—dinner by-and-bye—for +four."</p> +<p>"Man," the Girl began; and then was silent.</p> +<p>"Little Pal," I answered, and she visibly gathered courage.</p> +<p>"You know what a great blow I had, and how it made me very ill," +she went on. "It was Molly Randolph who persuaded me that a +complete change, and living in the open air—the open air of +other countries where no one knew me or my troubles—would +cure my heart, and mind, too."</p> +<p>(Oh, what a Molly! What might she not do for this sad, bad, mad +old world, if she would but set up for a specialist in the mind and +heart line!)</p> +<p>"She didn't help me make the plan that—I finally carried +out. You see, she had to be married, and whisked off to England, +when she had half finished my cure. One night when I was lying +awake, the thought came to me—of a thing I might do. It +fascinated me. It wouldn't let me get away from it. At first, it +was only a fantastic dream; but it took shape, and reality, till it +was able to plead its own cause and argue its own advantages. A +girl is handicapped. She can't have adventures; she must have a +chaperon. A boy is free. Besides—I wanted to get away from +men. As a boy, I could take Molly's advice, and travel, and be a +regular gipsy if I liked.</p> +<p>"My hair had been cut short when I was ill. That made me feel as +if the thing really was to be. One day I sent out and bought +some—some clothes, ready made, and put them on. That settled +it, for I was sure no one would ever know me, or the truth. One +thing suggested another. I thought of travelling with a +caravan—then I changed my mind to donkeys, and that led to +Innocentina. I'd gone out with her up into the mountains, +donkey-back, every day from Mentone two years ago. She had talked +to me about Aosta. Her mother's people came from there. Always +since, I had wanted to go. I wrote her. I began to make +preparations for a long journey."</p> +<p>"You got the bag!" I exclaimed.</p> +<p>"Oh, that bag! I should have <i>died</i> if any English-speaking +person had found it, and read my diary, which was to be +used—partly—as notes for a book—if I should ever +write it. I would have offered even a bigger reward, if you had let +me. But I must go on:—they will come—Molly and Jack. I +went out to Lucerne, where Innocentina joined me with the donkeys; +but it wasn't till we were away in the wilds that—that the +Boy appeared. I didn't mean to visit any very big towns afterwards, +for it wasn't civilisation I wanted; but—you came into the +story, and I did lots of things I hadn't meant to do—because +of you, Man."</p> +<p>"And I did lots of things I hadn't meant to do—because of +you, Boy."</p> +<p>"It was doing different things from what I planned that worked +all the mischief. If we hadn't gone to Aix, we wouldn't have gone +up Mont Revard; and if we hadn't gone up Mont Revard, the Prince +wouldn't have had to vanish."</p> +<p>"If he hadn't, would the Princess have appeared—for me? Or +would she always have been passing—passing—I not +dreaming of her presence, though she was by my side?"</p> +<p>"Who can tell? Each event in life seems to be propped up against +all the others, like a tower of children's bricks. Anyway, we did +go, and Something had sent up to the snowy top of that mountain in +Savoie the very last man in the world—except one—I +would have chosen to meet. It was—<i>his</i> +brother—the younger brother of the man I had found out. He +wasn't sure of me, I could tell: for he had never seen me with my +hair short; and I had got so thin, and my face so brown; but he +suspected, and he is a gossiping sort of fellow. If he had had a +chance to see me by daylight, he would have been sure, and then +there would be some wild story flashing all over America. That is +why I ran away. But it hurt me to leave you like that, Man."</p> +<p>"It cut off all my arms and legs, and my head, and left me only +a trunk," I murmured.</p> +<p>"I couldn't think what else to do; indeed, I could hardly think +at all. But I knew Molly and Jack were going to Chambéry to +spend a day, and I thought I might catch them there, if I hurried. +You see, Molly and I wrote to each other sometimes, though I never +said a word about you. I didn't dream you'd knew them, until one +day you announced things you'd said to Molly in a letter, +which—which—well, things which would need a lot of +explanation, too difficult for black and white."</p> +<p>"By Jove!" I exclaimed. "Now I know where I'd seen your +handwriting before. It was in a letter which Molly dropped almost +on my head, from a balcony at Martigny, and there was a +photograph––"</p> +<p>"Oh, you didn't see it?"</p> +<p>"That's what Molly asked. I satisfied her that I hadn't."</p> +<p>"Suppose you <i>had</i>—before you met me! But never mind. +I did find them at Chambéry. They'd just arrived, and I told +Molly everything."</p> +<p>"What did she say?"</p> +<p>"Oh, she just lent me some of her clothes, and said they'd take +me with them in the automobile, out of danger's way until we could +decide on a plan. I bought the thing you call a 'mushroom' in a +shop, and we were starting off next morning when—you came +along. Well––"</p> +<p>"Well?"</p> +<p>"Molly and Jack were in a very awkward position: for I had said +to Molly that I felt I could never face you +again—<i>never</i>, anyhow, as the Boy, and that <i>he</i> +had gone out of your life irrevocably. There I sat in the motor +car, and there were you in the street. You can't imagine how I +felt. It would have been horrid for them—your best +friends—to leave you stranded, and—<i>I</i> didn't want +that either. I couldn't help feeling there'd be a tremendous +fascination in being so near you, with my face hidden, you not +knowing, if only the strain of it needn't last too long; and Molly +just cut the Gordian knot of the scrape, as she always does. She +assured me that being in the same car need commit me to <i>no</i> +decision as to what I would do in the end. But—you remember +how she drew you out, about your feeling for the Boy, how you +missed him, and how you were going all the way down to Monte Carlo +on the bare chance of his being there? Well, she meant me to hear +every word, and I did. After that—after +that—I—<i>couldn't</i> give you up. I don't believe I +could, anyway, when I'd straightened things out in my mind. I'd +told you that you would never see the Boy again, and you never +will; but Molly said that was no reason why you shouldn't see the +Boy's sister. I wrote a note from him to you, for myself to bring +to-night, and I thought—I hoped—you might perhaps +believe––"</p> +<p>"You couldn't have hoped it," I broke in. "Say that you came to +give me back my Little Pal, whom you had stolen from me."</p> +<p>"It may be. I don't know, myself. I couldn't foresee what would +happen. As I heard you say, about motoring down steep hills, I just +hurled myself into space, and trusted to Providence."</p> +<p>"Now I understand all that was mysterious in myself," I said. +"My heart, not being such a fool as my head, was trying continually +to telegraph the truth about the Little Pal to my brain, which +couldn't get the message right, as there was far too much +electricity flying about in the atmosphere. Now I know why I loved +the Boy so dearly, because he was you; because he was that Other +Half which every man is always unconsciously looking for, round the +world, and hardly ever finds."</p> +<p>"Oh, Man, do you really care—like that? Do you love +me—love 'for sure' this time?"</p> +<p>"Sure for this time, and for Eternity. There never really was, +there never will be, any other woman in my life except you: for you +are my Life and my World."</p> +<p>"You don't hate me for my masquerade?"</p> +<p>"Hate you! I'll prove to you whether I––"</p> +<p>"Why does your face look suddenly different, Man? Why do you +stop?"</p> +<p>"Because—I've remembered something that I'd +forgotten."</p> +<p>"What?"</p> +<p>"Your horrible money."</p> +<p>"Don't you think I knew you'd forgotten? Oh, Man, the money +would be horrible indeed, if you should let it come between us, but +you won't, will you? We belong to each other; your following me +here proves it beyond doubt. I've known for weeks that I never +truly cared for anyone else, for I love you, and can't do without +you."</p> +<p>"Then there's nothing on earth that shall come between us. Money +or no money, what does it matter, after all? Will you finish the +journey of Life with me, my Little Pal—my Love?"</p> +<p>The star-eyes answered. And at that moment Molly and Jack came +in.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"><img src= +"images/408.gif" width="250" height="238" alt="Illustration" title= +"Illustration" /></div> + +<p> </p> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14740 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |