Chapter 8 A SENTIMENTAL ALPINE JOURNEY

Long "waits" and entr'actes-The Mont Buet as an unknown mountain-We hire carriages-A digression on a stationary vehicle-A straggling start-The incomplete moralist-The niece to the moralist-A discourse on gourmets-An artistic interlude-We become thoughtful, and reach the height of sentiment and the top of the Mont Buet-Some other members of the party-The mountaineers perform-How glissading ambition did o'erleap itself-A vision on the summit-The moralist leaves us for a while-Entertainment at the Bérard Chalet-View of the Aiguille Verte-The end of the journey.

A fair critic-in the matter of sex-discussing a recently published work with the author, remarked that it was the most charming book she had ever read. "I was told it would not interest me," she remarked most seriously to him, "but really I found it delightful: there are such lovely wide margins to the pages, you know." On much the same principle a highly intelligent lady, noted for her theatrical discrimination, once remarked that she liked those theatres best which afforded the longest entr'actes. So in the Alps we felt from time to time the necessity, between the more stirring episodes resulting from [pg 267]higher mountaineering, to interpose minor expeditions, on which no less care and thought was often lavished to make them worthy of pursuit. These were our entr'actes. Of such expeditions it is customary to say that they are the most enjoyable of any undertaken. Without going so far as this, it may be conceded that they have a pleasure of their own, and it is at least no more difficult to discover a novel form of sub-Alpine expedition than to vary the details of a big climb. One of these episodes, undertaken while we were barred from the higher mountains by a fall of snow, consisted in a night attack on the Mont Buet.

Mont Buet

Now the Mont Buet, although it lies close to the regular highway to Chamouni from the Rhone valley, is a peak but rarely even seen of the ordinary tourist; and, considering the numbers of our countrymen that flock to the village whence they imagine that they see the summit of Mont Blanc, the English folk who make the ascent are strangely few. Yet the walk is not a laborious one; not more fatiguing, for example, than the tramp from Martigny to Chamouni over the Col de Balme on a hot day. Fashion in the mountains is very conservative, and probably it is too late in the day now to hope that this mountain will ever gain all the reputation it deserves, for, though comparatively unknown, its praises have been by no means left unsung. Possibly the lowness of the guides' [pg 268]tariff for the peak may have something to do with the matter, and may serve to explain why it is so much left out in the cold; for this is a very potent agent in determining the attractiveness of special localities. How many go to Chamouni, and never wander along one of the most beautiful sylvan paths in the Alps, that leads to the Glacier des Bossons through the woods, where the view, as the spectator suddenly finds himself confronted with the huge stream of pure glacier, topped by a most magnificent ice-fall, and backed by the crags of the Aiguille du Midi, compares by no means unfavourably with the more frequently photographed panorama from the Montanvert. Ask a dozen persons at haphazard who are staying at Chamouni where the Mont Buet is, and ten out of the number will be unable to answer you. But the pictures hung on the line are not invariably the best in an exhibition; and the Mont Buet is a masterpiece, so to speak, "skied."

We hire carriages

Our party that summer at Chamouni was a large one, for we had stayed a long time in the hotel, and knew, as the phrase goes, a great many to speak to-quite a different thing to answering for them. We conceived the plan of so timing our modest expedition as to arrive on the summit of the Mont Buet about sunset. It was agreed by some members of the party that it would be "such fun, you know," to come down in the dark. The inference to be gathered from this [pg 269]is that the party was not exclusively composed of the male sex. Two of us, reputed to be good at a bargain, were deputed to charter carriages to convey the members of the expedition up to Argentière, where the ascent commenced. The carriages of Chamouni, though no doubt practical and well suited to the mountain roads, were not found to be of uniform excellence. Availing ourselves of a proper introduction, we made the temporary acquaintance of an individual interested officially in vehicular traffic, who possessed that remarkable insight into character noticeable in all who are concerned with horses, and knew exactly what we wanted without any preliminary explanation on our part. "Voilà votre affaire," he said, and indicated a machine that would have been out of date when the first char-à-banc was constructed. We inquired if the somewhat unsavoury load (it had, apparently, been in recent requisition for farming purposes) which the cart contained might be removed, and he said there was no objection to this. "See," said the proprietor, "the seats have backs." "But they tip up," we remonstrated. "That is nothing," rejoined the proprietor; "they can be tied down: the carriage is good, and has gone many miles. However, Monsieur is evidently particular; he shall be satisfied. Behold!" and the proprietor threw open the creaking door of a shed, and revealed to our gaze a pretentious landau with faded linings and [pg 270]wheels which did not seem to be circular. This "machine," he assured us, it would be hard to equal for locomotive purposes. Two strange beasts were connected to it, chiefly, as it seemed, by bits of string. One of the animals was supported on two very puffy hind legs and two very tremulous fore-legs, and seemed perpetually on the point of going down on its knees to supplicate that it might be allowed to go no further. Its companion was a horse of the most gloomy nature, that no amount of chastisement could stir from a despondent and pensive frame of mind. Both these treasures had a capacity for detecting an upward incline that was marvellously acute. Then there was a structure like a magnified perambulator, of which one wheel was afflicted with a chronic propensity for squeaking, while the other described a curious serpentine track as it rolled along. Not being, however, in any particular hurry, we decided to avail ourselves of such assistance as these vehicles might afford, and did, as a matter of fact, ultimately reach our destination, if not in, at least with them.

The incomplete moralist

From Argentière we followed the familiar track of the Tête Noire for some little distance, and then bore away to the left up the valley leading towards the Bérard Chalet. The party, which had kept well together for the first few minutes after parting with the carriages, were soon straggling off in every direction, and the chief organiser of the expedition, desperately anxious [pg 271]lest some should go astray and be no more found, ran to and fro from one little group to another, and got into a highly excitable frame of mind, like a busily minded little dog when first taken out for a walk. Chief among the more erratic members was an elderly person who had, unwisely, been asked to join the party for no very definite reason, but because some one had said that it would be obviously incomplete without him. The old gentleman had no previous experience of mountain walks, but had very complete theories on the subject. He had made great preparations for his day's climb, had carefully dieted himself the day previously, and was not a little proud of his equipment and attire. He was furnished with a spiked umbrella, a green tin box, and a particularly thin pair of boots; for he wished to prove the accuracy of a theory that man, being descended from the apes, might properly use his feet as prehensile members, and he held that this additional aid would prove valuable on rocks. It was currently reported, notwithstanding his loquacity, that he was a very wise person, and indeed he dropped hints himself, which he was much annoyed if we did not take, on the subject of a projected literary work. We were given to understand that the publishers were all hankering after the same, and he had a manner in conversation of tentatively quoting passages and watching eagerly for the effects. He was known to [pg 272]us as the incomplete moralist, and proved to be a very didactic person.

The niece to the moralist

But this was not all; there was one other member of the party, who may be described, as in the old-fashioned list of the "Dramatis Person?," as "niece to the moralist." Somehow or another, she seemed to lead everything; instinctively all gave way to her wishes, and even the chief organiser looked to her for confirmation of his opinions before enunciating them with decision. Bright, impulsive, wilful, she led the moralist, subjectively speaking, whither she would, and he had no chance at all. "She ought not to have come at all on such an expedition," he said, looking at the light, fragile form ahead; "but you know you can't persuade a butterfly to take systematic exercise, and everything seems to give her so much pleasure;" and here the moralist looked rather wistful, and somehow the artificiality seemed to fade away from him for the moment. "Such of us," he resumed, "as stay long enough in this world cease to have much hopefulness; and when that quality shows up too strong in the young, such as that child yonder, somehow I don't think they often--" Here he paused abruptly, and, selecting a meat lozenge from a store in his tin box, put it into his mouth and apparently swallowed it at once; at any rate, he gulped down something. It must be allowed that the moralist had done his best to prevent his charge from accompanying the party. [pg 273]She had been reminded of what learned doctors had said, that she was not to exert herself; that certain persons, vaguely alluded to, would be very angry, and so forth. The moralist had been talked down in two minutes. He might as well have pointed out to the little budding leaflets the unwisdom of mistaking warm days in March for commencing summer; and, finally, he had surrendered at discretion, fencing himself in with some stipulations as to warm cloaks, "this once only," and the like, which he knew would not be attended to. So she came, and her eager brightness shed a radiance over the most commonplace objects, and infected the most prosaic of the party, even a young lady of varied accomplishments, who distinguished herself later on. After all, if the flame burned a little more brightly at the expense of a limited stock of fuel, was there anything to regret? Tone down such brightness as hers was, and you have but an uncut diamond, or a plant that may possibly last a little longer because its blossom, its fruit, and with them its beauties, have been cut off to preserve the dull stem to the utmost. Check the natural characteristics and outflow of such natures, and you force them to the contemplation of what is painful and gloomy. You bring them back fully to this world, and it is their greatest privilege to be but half in it, and to have eyes blind to the seamy side. The Alpine rose-glow owes its fascination to the fact that [pg 274]we know it will soon fade. So is it with these natures. They are to be envied. We may hold it truth with him who sings, "Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay." But the parallel is not strictly true: the brightness will not fade, but will be there to the end, and the streak of sadness running through it all gives the fascination. So the wit that approaches nearest to pathos touches us most deeply, and is one of the rarest of intellectual talents. With what a thrill of mixed, but yet pleasurable, sensation do we recall the timely jest of a lost friend. But all this has nothing to do with a holiday expedition in the Alps. Still, it must be remembered, we were on a sentimental journey in the mountains.

Before long the chief organiser, seizing an opportunity when most of the stragglers were within earshot, announced at the top of his voice that luncheon would be served on certain flat rocks. This had the immediate effect of uniting our scattered forces. The first to arrive (the moralist was slow of foot) were some gallant members of the high mountaineering fraternity, who throughout the day evinced astounding activity, and an unwonted desire to carry burdens on their backs. Secretly they were burning with an ambition to display their prowess on some "mauvais pas," or glissade, an ambition rewarded later on in a somewhat remarkable manner. The rock was spread, the moralist selected a comfortable place, and, stimu[pg 275]lated by the appearance of the viands, favoured us with certain extracts.

A discourse on gourmets

"There are many," he observed, holding a large piece of pie to his mouth and eyeing it to select an appropriate place for the next bite, "who hold that the sense of taste is not one to which we should much minister. I do not hold with such;" and here he found the right spot, and for a minute or two the thread of his discourse was broken off. "The painter blends colours to please the sense of sight; the musician studies harmonies of sound to please the ear; each appeals to but one of our imperfect senses, and yet we think much of them for so doing; we compliment them, and give them the appellation of artists. Now the worthy person who dexterously compounded this article, of which, alas! I hold now but little in my hand, appeals not to a single but to a twofold sense; he ministers alike to taste and to smell, and I must own, after a toilsome walk, with commendable results. He is an artist in the highest sense of the word; his merits, to my thinking, are but inadequately recognised in this world. I am convinced that they will be more so in another. The gourmet's paradise shall provide for him a cherubic state of existence; then shall he have all the pleasure that the palate can afford without any ill-omened presage of subsequent discomfort; for, thrice happy that he will be, digestion will be an anatomical [pg 276]impossibility." It may be remarked parenthetically that the possession of a gigantic brain had not obviated, in the case of the moralist, the deleterious effects of sour wine. But the moralist was not, as yet, much of a cherub.

As the speaker showed unmistakable signs of continuing his discourse, which had been chiefly directed at a youth of whom we only knew that he was some one's brother, if the opportunity were afforded, a sudden and general move was made, and the proposal that a short adjournment should take place previous to resuming our upward journey found instant favour. The chief organiser was by common consent left to pack up. Straightway the ladies all produced little sketch-books, and fell very vigorously to recording their impressions of the scenery around; whilst the moralist, already somewhat stiff, wandered from one group to the other and favoured them with his suggestions. The result of half an hour's work with pencil and brush was to produce diagrams of certain objects which looked uncommonly like telegraph poles with cross bars attached, but which were coloured of a vivid green, and were thus obviously intended for fir trees. The moralist, not finding that his remarks were met with much favour by the artists, selected an ascetic who sat apart from the others, and delivered his next discourse into his inattentive but uncomplaining ear.

[pg 277] An artistic interlude

"It seems strange to me," he remarked, "that those who are wholly unable to depict, even in the most elementary manner, the commonplace objects around them, are for ever seen in the Alps striving after the most impossible art problems. If so great a stimulus is needed, a poor result may be confidently anticipated." (Here the moralist made a fourth attempt to light a very curious native cigar.) "If it takes the sight of Nature in her sublimest phase, as seen in the Alps, to stimulate our friends here to show their art, why, then they haven't much of it. A milestone should be sufficient for the purpose, but it seems that they require a Matterhorn; and it may be gathered, from what I have heard you and your companions say, that what is true of Alpine art is true also of Alpine climbing, and that the dilettanti will never take the trouble to learn how much there is to learn. Our friends here try to paint a glacier, and have not the most elementary idea of its anatomy. They represent vast panoramas, and know nothing of distance; they--" But here the moralist, in the excitement of his discourse, turned a little white, probably from the depth of his feelings; and, throwing away his cigar, walked off alone, and was discovered shortly after perspiring a good deal, and crumpled up in a somewhat limp and helpless state.

The books were packed up, for the sun was setting low, and the party wended their way up the steep [pg 278]grass slope till the first great dome of the Mont Buet came well into sight. Far ahead was the niece, seemingly unconscious of the effects that the exertion of climbing told on her slight frame. She was apparently unaware of any companions around, though watchful eyes and strong hands were always near lest any mischance should befall. She spoke to no one. Nature absorbed all her faculties as she went on with cheeks rather flushed, and bright, dilated eyes drinking in every object and every point of beauty. As an artist in the exercise of his craft makes the outside world acquainted with beauties ever present to his eyes, so did the effect on her of the wondrous lights and shades and colours around call up new thoughts and reveal fresh marvels in the panorama to others, though well acquainted with such Alpine scenes. The spell caught one after another, till the whole party, all held by the same unsuspected fascination, walked silently on, while the majestic splendour around inspired an awe in the mind that even those most familiar with the marvels of nature in the mountains had never felt before. The mere recognition of the fact that the same thought or emotion is passing simultaneously through the minds of many is in itself so striking, that the impression so caused will not ever be effaced from the mind. A crowded hall is waiting for the advent of the orator of the occasion, and there enters an old man whose name [pg 279]and work were familiar to all. Instantly, and as if by magic, all present rose to their feet in token of respect. No word was spoken, no signal given. The matter may seem slight, but the scene was one that those present will never forget. The most hideous part of the punishment in the old days to the criminal must have been the moment when, as he stepped through the last door, the sea of faces below him upturned simultaneously with a howl of execration. And all these thoughts were called up by the fact that one consumptive girl was a member of our mountain party. Well, such was the case, and it made the expedition different in many ways from any that we had ever undertaken, but not perhaps the less worthy of remembrance.

We become thoughtful

"It looks a long way off," observed the moralist, gazing despondently upwards. "Do you say that the object of our expedition is to climb up to that eminence yonder? I fear lest some of the weaker members of the party should fail." (The moralist was now the penultimate member of the party, the absolute rear being brought up by one of the guides, who was pushing him up with the head of his axe. The youth to whom he was in the habit of addressing his discourses had in a revengeful mood offered similar assistance; but the youth wore such a saturnine look when he made the suggestion, that it was declined hastily with thanks.) "I think that if I took a little [pg 280]wine"-here he took all that was left-"this feeling of disinclination to move might conceivably pass off, and I could then encourage some of the others on what is clearly to them an arduous expedition. Ah me! but these little stones are excessively sharp to the feet; let us turn off on to the snow. I have heard that it is possible to walk uphill on such a medium, and yet scarce recognise the fact." By this time most of the party were well on to the first summit, and the glories of the sunset, from a point of view which it would be hard to match in all the mountains, were beginning to display themselves to the full. The higher we ascended the more did the eternal mass of white snow on the other side of the valley develop and tower above us. Two or three of the more active members were floundering in the deep snow along the ridge uniting the two summits, and finding it, if the truth be told, no small matter to keep pace with the niece, who skimmed lightly over the surface. Gallantry and the desire to keep up their reputation forbade that they should fall to the rear, or allow the rope to tighten unduly; but their superior mountaineering experience seemed not a little in danger of being counterbalanced by their superior weight. All over the rocks on the Sixt side a thin grey veil of mist seemed to hang, making the cliffs appear still more vertical than nature had moulded them, and tinting the crags at the same time with a deep purple colour.

A VISION ON A SUMMIT

[pg 281] A vision on the summit

In the foreground, looking south, the long jagged line of the Aiguilles Rouges cut off the view into the Chamouni valley, and threw up still higher and more into relief the minor peaks of the Mont Blanc chain. We huddled together on the summit, while there seemed hardly time to turn to all points of the compass to survey the effects. The emotional members of the party came out strong, and the young lady of varied accomplishments, who was adjudged by the others to be of poetic temperament, as she was fond of alluding rather vaguely to unknown Italian geniuses, burst forth into ecstasies. However, one or two of us had rather lost faith in her historical knowledge and her profound acquaintance with medi?val art on hearing her discourse learnedly to the vacuous youth on Savonarola as an artist of great repute, and on discovering that in the family circle she was held in submission by an Italianised English governess-discreetly left at the hotel. A formidable person, this preceptress, of austere demeanour, with a dyspeptic habit, highly pomatumed ringlets, and evangelistic tendencies-a triple combination not infrequently met with. Still, no one paid any attention to the accomplished young lady, for an object in the foreground of the great picture riveted the gaze of most of us. The niece had advanced a few steps from the rest of the party, and stood a little apart on the summit ridge of the mountain, her slight form [pg 282]brought out in strong relief against the many-tinted sky. The folds of her dress fluttered back in the light breeze, and the night wind as it came sighing over the crest had loosened her veil and tossed it upwards. Mechanically as she raised her hand to draw it back, the thin arm and hand seemed to point upwards to something beyond what we could see. Instinctively the others all drew back a few paces, and closed in together as they watched the motionless form. The sunset glories were more than we could realise, but somehow we felt that she was gazing with fixed eyes far, far beyond these-into a pure and passionless region, beyond the mental grasp of the profoundest theologian depending on his own acquired knowledge. As we looked, though she moved no limb, her breath came faster and faster. One or two of us made a start forwards, but at that moment the last red glow vanished from the belt of fleecy cloud hanging in mid-sky. Lower down, the limestone cliffs seemed strangely desolate as the icy hand of night spread over them. The breeze suddenly dropped and died away. She stamped her foot on the snow, and with a quick movement of the head seemed to come back again to the scene around. "Let us go," she said, half petulantly. Silently the party arranged themselves in order as we wended our way back along the ridge. We had seen a sight that lingered in the mind, and that was not easily to be [pg 283]erased from the memory. As we walked along we gradually drew closer and closer together, prompted by some feeling that all seemed to share alike-as if the recollection of what we had just seen had dazed the mind, and brought us face to face with some influence beyond our ordinary thoughts, and as if with nearer union we should not feel so powerless and insignificant. But the glories of that sunset from the Mont Buet, a scene within the reach of all of very moderate walking ability, were far beyond the power of any language to describe, and beyond the province of any discreet writer to attempt. The twilight gathered in fast, and the snow already felt more crisp under foot. The roll-call was held, and it was discovered that the only absentees were the moralist and his propelling companion. At this point two of the skilled mountaineers of the party recognised their opportunity, and were not slow to seize it. Secretly they had felt that no suitable occasion had hitherto offered of displaying their prowess, so they volunteered to perform a glissade for the amusement and instruction of the others. The ladies clapped their hands gleefully, and the youth, who did not know how to glissade, looked sinister. Accordingly the skilful ones made their way to a steep snow slope, and started off with great speed and dexterity, amidst the admiring plaudits of the less acrobatically minded members. But the course of their true descent did [pg 284]not run entirely smooth, for before half the downward journey was accomplished the foremost member was observed suddenly to propel himself wildly into the air, performing a remarkable antic-similar to those known of street Arabs as cart-wheels-and the remainder of the journey to the foot of the slope was performed with about the grace of a floating log descending a mountain torrent. Nor was this all; the rearmost man, apparently also possessed by an identical frenzy, leaped forth into the air at precisely the same spot and in precisely the same manner. Had it not been that they were known to be highly skilful and adroit mountaineers the impression might have gained ground that the circumstances of this part of the descent were not wholly under their own control. Ever anxious to investigate the true cause of strange occurrences, to their credit be it said that when they had collected their wits and emptied their pockets of snow, they mounted up again to the scene of the disaster, and discovered the explanation in an entirely imaginary stone, which had, beyond doubt, tripped them up.

The mountaineers perform

Somewhat crestfallen, the energetic pair rejoined the rest of the troupe and a search was instituted for the moralist. This worthy was discovered, astonishingly weary of body but surprisingly active of mind, wedged in a narrow rocky niche, so that he looked like the figure of a little "Joss" in the carved model [pg 285]of a Japanese temple. It was found necessary to pull him vigorously by the legs, in order to straighten out those members sufficiently for him to progress upon them. However, he seemed to have more to say about the sunset than anybody else, and his description of the beauties thereof was so glowing and eloquent, that the idea crossed our minds that possibly some of the descriptions we had read in Alpine writings of similar scenes might be as authentic as that with which he favoured us. "A great point in the Alps," remarked the moralist, after he had been securely fastened by a rope to a guide for fear we should lose him again, so that he looked like a dancing bear-"a great point in walking amongst the Alps is that we learn to use our eyes and look around us. I have observed that those who perambulate our native flagstones appear perpetually to be absorbed in the contemplation of what lies at their feet. Now here, stimulated by the beauties around, man holds, as he should do, his head erect, and steps out boldly." At this point a little delay was occasioned owing to the abrupt disappearance of the speaker through a crust of snow. Some curious rumblings below our feet seemed to imply that he had descended to a considerable depth, and was in great personal discomfort. In the dim light we could scarcely see what had actually happened, but concluded to pull vigorously at the rope as the best means of getting our temporarily [pg 286]absent friend out of his difficulties. This we succeeded in doing, and a strenuous haul on the cord was rewarded by the sudden appearance of two boots through the snow-crust at our feet-a phenomenon so unexpected that we relaxed our efforts, with the result that the boots immediately disappeared again. A second attempt was more successful; an arm and a leg this time came to the surface simultaneously, and the moralist was delivered from the snowy recesses broadside on. We rearranged his raiment, shook the snow out of the creases of his clothes, tied a bath towel round his head, which, for some obscure reason, he had brought with him-the towel, not his head-and harnessed him this time securely between two members of the party. Possibly from the effects of his misadventure, he remained silent for some time, or his flow of conversation may have been hindered by the fact that his supporters ran him violently down steep places whenever he showed symptoms of commencing a fresh dissertation. It was no easy task to find the little hut in the darkness, and it was not until after we had blundered about a good deal that we caught sight of the beacon light, consisting of a very cheap dip exhibited in the window, as a sign that entertainment for man and beast might be found within. The moralist, who was always to the fore when the subject of refreshment was mentioned, discovered a milking-stool, and drawing it in great [pg 287]triumph to the best place in front of the stove, sat down on it, with the immediate result that he was precipitated backwards into the ash-pan. There we left him, as being a suitable place for repentance.

A banquet at the chalet

The rest of the party gathered for supper round the festive board, which was rather uncertain on its legs, and inclined to tip up. Owing to some miscarriage, the larder of the cabane was not well stocked, and all the entertainment that could be furnished consisted of one bent-up little sausage, exceeding black and dry, and a very large teapot. However, there was plenty of fresh milk provided after a short interval, though the latter article was not obtained without considerable difficulty, and remonstrances proceeding from an adjoining shed, probably due to somnolence on the part of the animal from which the supply was drawn. Presently a great commotion, as of numerous bodies rolling down a steep ladder, was heard, and there appeared at the door a large collection of small shock-headed children, who gaped at us in silent wonder. Anxious to ascertain the physical effects that might be induced by the consumption of the sausage, the moralist, who amongst his many talents had apparently a turn for experimental physiology, cut off a block and placed it in the open mouth of the eldest of the children. This unexpected favour led to the boy's swallowing the morsel whole, and he shortly afterwards retired with a somewhat [pg 288]pained expression of countenance; the other members of the family followed shortly after in tears, in consequence of the Italianised young lady, who possessed a strong fund of human sympathy and a love for the picturesque, having made an attempt to conciliate their good-will by patting their respective heads, and asking them their names in a conjectural patois. We were now ready to start again, and demanded of our hostess what there was to pay. This request led her to go to the foot of the ladder, which represented a staircase, and call out for the proprietor. A little black-headed man in response instantly precipitated himself down the steps, shot into the apartment, and, without any preliminary calculation, named the exact price. On receiving his money he scuttled away again like a frightened rabbit, brought the change, jerked it down on the table, and darted off again to his slumbers. The whole transaction occupied some five-and-twenty seconds.

Part of the programme consisted in descending back to Argentière by lantern-light, but the resources of the establishment could only produce one battered machine, and it was no easy task with this illumination to keep the members of the party from straying away from the narrow path. Indeed, several members did part from the rest, curiously enough in pairs; but before long we left the narrow defile, and as we passed from under the shelter of the slope on our [pg 289]right, and could see across the Chamouni valley, we came suddenly in view of the great mass of the Aiguille Verte, so suddenly, indeed, that it made us start back for the moment; for, illumined by a grey ghostly light, the mountain seemed at first to hang right over us. There is, perhaps, no finer view of the Aiguille Verte to be obtained than from this point; certainly no finer effects of light and shade than were granted by the conditions under which we saw it, could have been devised to show the peak off to the best advantage. So long did we delay to dwell on the fairy-like scene, that the vacuous youth, accompanied by the young lady of varied accomplishments, caught us up and joined us quite suddenly, to their exceeding confusion. The youth, without being invited to do so, explained, blushing violently the while, that they had lost the path in the darkness, and had only been able to regain the track by lighting a series of lucifer matches-an entire fiction on his part, but condoned, as evincing more readiness of wit than we had previously given him credit for. We heard also that their way had been barred by a swamp and a mountain stream, which, like gossip, can have had no particular origin. The young lady, mindful of the absence of her preceptress and consequently heedless of grammar, described the situation neatly as being "awfully bogs."

The end of the journey

If the expedition had shown us no more than this moonlight effect, the reward would have been ample. [pg 290]In truth, from first to last the expedition was one which it would be hard to match for variety of interest in all the sub-Alpine district. At Argentière we rejoined the carriages, and found the horses just a little more inclined for exertion than they had been in the morning; their joy at going home seemed to be tempered by the fact that they recognised that they would inevitably be called upon to start from the same point at no very distant period; and that to return home was but to go back to the starting-point for further laborious excursions. But their equine tempers seemed thoroughly soured. The Italianised young lady was taken in charge by her elder sister, who had completed her education, and knew consequently the hollowness of the world and the folly of younger sisters' flirtations, and securely lodged in the landau. The youth, after an ineffectual attempt to find a place in the same carriage, climbed to the box seat of the other vehicle, and relieved his feelings by cracking the driver's whip with great dexterity; in fact, we discovered that this was one of his principal accomplishments. Not the least satisfactory part of the climb, in the estimation of some members of the party, was the fact that the moralist had lost his note-book during his imprisonment in the crevasse.

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