The Princess Passes Volume 56 by Alice Muriel Williamson, Charles Norris Williamson (great book club books .txt) π
To The Wild Wood And The Downs,
To The Silent Wilderness."
--Percy Bysshe Shelley.
"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.
The Way Of It Was This.
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.
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Read book online Β«The Princess Passes Volume 56 by Alice Muriel Williamson, Charles Norris Williamson (great book club books .txt) πΒ». Author - Alice Muriel Williamson, Charles Norris Williamson
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?"
"No," I Admitted, "But There Were Probably So Many That One Didn't
Notice Them--Like Flies, You Know."
"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
Chapter 5 (In Search Of A Mule) Pg 35Thing 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."
"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."
"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.
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.
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
_Distraite_. 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?"
"But, Darling," Objected Jack, "That Is Largely What He Wants Advice
About."
"He Can't Do Better Than Take Mine, Then," Said Molly. "Lord Lane,
_Promise_ Me You'll Take Mine And _No_ One's Else."
"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."
"Well, Then," Said Molly, "Since You Are So Accommodating, I Not Only
Advise But _Order_ You To Go Over The Great St. Bernard Pass, Down To
Aosta."
"Might A Humble Mortal Ask, 'Why Aosta?'" I Ventured.
"Because It's Beautiful, And Beneficent, And A Great Many Other Things
Chapter 5 (In Search Of A Mule) Pg 36Which Begin With B."
"You've Never Seen It, Though," Said Jack.
"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."
"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?"
"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.
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.
"There Are No Mules To Be Had In Lucerne," He Said.
"In The Country Near By, Then?"
"Nor In The Country Near By. The Nearest Place Where You Could Get One
Would Be In The Valais--Best At Brig."
"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."
"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."
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
Chapter 5 (In Search Of A Mule) Pg 37Breakfasts, "Than Begin My Walk In The Rhone Valley. Surely, Lucerne
Can Be Counted On To Yield Me Up At Least A Donkey?"
"You Must Go Into Italy To Find An _Γne_," Replied The Landlord,
Inexorable As Destiny.
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.
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.
"What Is The Nearest Place In Italy Where Lord Lane Could Get A
Donkey?" She Asked.
"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----"
"We Can Go There And See," Said Molly.
"Airolo's On The Other Side Of The St. Gothard, And Automobiles Aren't
Allowed On The Swiss Passes," Remarked Jack.
This, To Me, Sounded Final, So Far As Airolo Was Concerned, But Not So
With The Honourable Mrs. Winston!
"What Do They Do To You If You _Do_ Go?" She Asked, Turning Slightly
Pale.
"They Fined An American Gentleman Who Crossed The Simplon In His
Automobile Last Year, Five Thousand Francs," Answered Herr Widmer.
"Oh!" Said She. "So An American Did Go Over One Of The Passes? Well,
Thank You _So_ 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."
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 _Everybody_ 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 _In The Middle Of The Night_."
Chapter 5 (In Search Of A Mule) Pg 38
"Good Heavens, What A Desperate Character I've Married!" Exclaimed
Jack.
"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 _Nothing_, So We Couldn't Expose Man Or Beast To Danger.
We'd Rush The _Douanes_, Or Whatever They Call Them On Passes, And If
We _Were_ Caught, What Are Five Thousand Francs?"
"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 _Γne_, I Will Simply Take
Train----"
"You Will Take The Train, If You Take It, Over Jack's And My
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