The Princess Passes Volume 56 by Alice Muriel Williamson, Charles Norris Williamson (book recommendations .TXT) 📖

Chapter 14 (The Path Of The Moon) Pg 105

Bourg St. Pierre.

 

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.

 

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.

 

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.

 

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 _Les Messieurs_ Would Sleep, One On The Sofa, The Other On The

Floor, In The Room Of The "Déjeûner."

 

"I Suppose We'll Have To Put Up With That Accommodation, Then. What Do

You Say, Boy?" I Asked.

 

"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.

 

"Go On Where?" I Enquired Grimly.

 

"I Don't Know. Anywhere."

 

"'Anywhere' Means In This Instance The Open Road."

 

"Well--I'm Not So _Very_ Cold, Are You? And I'm Sure They'll Give Us A

Little Bread And Cheese Here."

 

"I Think It Would Be Wiser To Stop," Said I. "We Might See The Ghost

Of Napoleon Eating The _Déjeuner_. Isn't That An Inducement?"

 

"Not Enough."

 

"I Assure You That I Don't Snore Or Howl In My Sleep. And You Could

Have The Sofa To Curl Up On."

Chapter 14 (The Path Of The Moon) Pg 106

"Ye-Es; But I'd Rather Go On. You And Joseph Can Stop. Innocentina And

I Will Be All Right."

 

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.

 

"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.

 

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."

 

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.

 

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."

 

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 _Mulet Ou

Les Ânes_. 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 _Rücksack_ 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.

 

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!

Chapter 14 (The Path Of The Moon) Pg 107

 

"I _Can't_ Lose It," He Said. "There Are Things In It Which I Wouldn't

Have Anyone's--Which I Couldn't Replace."

 

"Your Sister The Princess Will Buy You Another," I Tried To Console

Him.

 

"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."

 

"No, You Won't," I Said. "As To That, I Shall Put My Foot Down. If

Anyone Goes----"

 

"Nobody Shall Go But Myself. I Won't Have It. I----"

 

"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----"

 

"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."

 

"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."

 

"You Must Be Satisfied With Your Virtue. I've My Own Reasons,

And--And I Suppose I'm My Own Master?"

 

"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."

 

"I Wonder If That _Would_ Have Done Me Good?"

 

"It Isn't Too Late To Try. You Haven't Passed The Age."

 

"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 _Do_ Want My Bag."

 

"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."

 

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.

 

"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

Chapter 14 (The Path Of The Moon) Pg 108

Francs To Whoever Finds My Bag, And Brings It Back With Everything In

It Undisturbed."

 

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.

 

[Illustration: "Looking Out Of The Window I Saw Him In

Conversation".]

 

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 _Comme Il Faut_ At Orsières.

 

"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.

 

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 _Rücksack_ 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,