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

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.

 

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.

 

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.

 

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.

 

Chapter 24 (The Revenge Of The Mountain) Pg 183

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.

 

"What's Up?" I Enquired, Thawing Joyously In The Brief Gleam Of Moral

Sunshine.

 

"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."

 

"Perhaps The Gridiron Was To Him What My Dressing-Gown Is To You,"

Said I.

 

"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."

 

"Which Means That I'm Forgiven?"

 

"That, And Something More."

 

"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."

 

"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."

 

"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."

 

"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.'"

 

"What Would Be Your Definition Of The State, Precisely?"

 

"Being With Somebody You--Like."

 

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.

 

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

Chapter 24 (The Revenge Of The Mountain) Pg 184

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.

 

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.

 

"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.

 

"Squall-A-Doo, Soo-A-Lone, Bolla-Hang," Returned One Of The Men,

Suddenly Wound Up To Gesticulate With Violence.

 

"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.

 

"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."

 

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.

 

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.

 

"No, I Can't Stand It," He Gasped. "I Shall Faint. Better Freeze Than

Suffocate."

 

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

Chapter 24 (The Revenge Of The Mountain) Pg 185

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.

 

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."

 

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.

 

Chapter 25 (The Americans) Pg 186

    "Is The Gentleman Anonymous? Is He A Great Unknown?"

                                          --Shakespeare.

 

 

While Joseph And Innocentina Remained Outside With The Animals, The

Boy And I Entered A Long,