The Princess Passes by Alice Muriel Williamson and Charles Norris Williamson

A >> Alice Muriel Williamson and Charles Norris Williamson >> The Princess Passes

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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.

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.

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.

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.

We could walk side by side here, and looking down at the Boy, I could
see that he was shivering.

"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.

"Let's talk about it," said the Boy. "It may warm us, just to
remember."

"Are you very cold?"

"Not so ve-r-y."

"Your teeth are chattering in your head. Stop, we'll have our
overcoats out of the packs."

"I don't want mine."

"Nonsense; you must have it."

"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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

"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."

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.

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.

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.

"Is _that_ 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."

"I don't need it. It was for you. Don't be ungrateful, after all my
trouble."

"All _my_ trouble, you mean. Take off the horrid thing. I won't wear
it. Let me alone."

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.

"If you don't let me go, I'll--I'll box your ears!" he stammered.

"Try it," I advised sternly.

He could not move his arms, so closely I held him, but his eyes were
blazing.

"You'll be sorry for this some day," he panted.

"Will you keep on the dressing-gown, if I let you go?".

"No."

"Then will you wear my coat?"

"What! And have you in your shirt-sleeves? Rather not. Let me----"

"I'll give you the coat and wear the dressing-gown myself. _I'm_ not
as vain as a girl."

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.

"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.

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.

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.

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.

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
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 chalet 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
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 mediaeval bread. But the
half-hour in which we had been told we might cover the distance
between chalet 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 chalet, or perchance a barn.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XXV

The Americans

"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, 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

"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."

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.

"Anything wrong?" I asked, bending towards him, with my hand on his
chair.

"Nothing. I was only--a little surprised to hear people talking,
that's all. I thought we had the room to ourselves."

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."

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."

"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."

"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?"

"Like sketches from New York _Life_," 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."

"All the more reason for not looking," said the Boy. "Thank goodness,
here comes the landlord."

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 Chambery, 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 chalet, where they and their drivers
could be put up for the night.

"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 chalet 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."

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