like his mother: she believed the ugly duckling of the family to be a fit mate for any swan, and would have been honestly amazed at his rejection by the greatest heiress in England. Naturally, he himself was subject to no such illusion, nor did he for a moment suppose that Peggy Rowley would accept his hand and heart if he were to offer her those treasures-which thing he had not the slightest intention of doing. Only he did think that Peggy was capable of making some sarcastic remarks respecting his sudden anxiety to inspect the Spanish frontier; and that was why he was not sorry to escape from the country without bidding her farewell.

It was on the third of August that he reached the little Pyrenean watering-place which has always been a favourite resort of fashionable Parisians and has become more so since the patriotic pride of these ladies and gentlemen has forbidden them to disport themselves at Baden-Baden. Luchon, lying in a narrow green valley, hemmed in on either side by wooded hills, above which a glimpse of snow-clad summits may occasionally be caught, is one of the most charming spots in a charming region. Its loveliness is not, perhaps, enhanced by the presence of the said ladies and gentlemen, who, when they are not gambling at the Casino or listening to the band, are for the most part galloping full tilt along the high road on hired horses and cracking their whips; yet there is compensation in all things, and its hotels would doubtless be less numerous and less comfortable without the distinguished patronage which the place enjoys. Douglas Colborne, at all events, had not undertaken that long, hot and dusty journey in search of solitude; so that his appreciation of a good dinner on his arrival was not marred by any sense of incongruity between the chattering, gaily-attired throng around him and the solemn, silent mountains by which he and they were overshadowed. He had ascertained, by an examination of the visitors' book, that the Countess Radna was not staying at the hotel where he had taken up his quarters; but this was scarcely a disappointment to him. She had only said that she proposed to be at Luchon in the month of August; she had not specified a date, and he was quite prepared to await her advent patiently for a week or more, if need be.

His patience, as it turned out, was not subjected even to that moderate strain; for, wandering away from the hotel on the following morning, in obedience to the natural impulse which

prompts those who are at the bottom of a valley to make for the top of some hill or other, he found himself all of a sudden in the presence of the lady with whom he was at the moment rehearsing an imaginary encounter. She was descending and he was ascending one of the zigzag paths which lead through the woods behind the Établissement to the grassy heights of Superbagnères. She was unaccompanied; she held a large bunch of wild flowers in one hand and a long stick in the other-which was, perhaps, a sufficient reason for her accosting him merely with a bow. She was not in the least taken aback, although he, who had anticipated a meeting which must have seemed to her highly improbable, was quite deprived of the power of speech by so abrupt a fulfilment of his hopes.

"You look astonished,' she remarked, with a smile. 'Nevertheless, I understood you to say, when we parted, that I should find you here about this time.'

'Yes,' answered Douglas, recovering himself, and, unless I am mistaken, you answered that you would be profoundly astonished if you did.'

'Did I? I am sorry I cannot keep my word; but it is a fact that I am not at all astonished. However, I am sincerely pleased, if that will do as well. Have you been here long?'

He hardly knew what to make of this matter-of-course reception. He was glad that she had expected him and glad that she was pleased to see him; yet some show of surprise or perturbation on her part might have been a rather more hopeful sign.

'Anyhow, here I am,' was his rejoinder, and, as you know that I have only come here to meet you, you won't shut your door in face again as you did in Paris, will you?'

my

'Not for the world! I apologise for ever having been so rude, but I suppose I must have had my reasons. What can they have been, I wonder? At all events, the door of Chalet des Rosiers, which is my present abode, stands open from the time the servants get up in the morning until after sunset. Bickenbach is with me and so is Dr. Schott, whom you may remember. By his advice I am going through a course of baths; though he can't tell me-and I'm sure I can't tell him-why I should require sulphur baths. What I do require, and what is doing me an immensity of good, is a course of peace and liberty.'

He expressed a desire to share the fruition of those blessings with her, and, as she did not forbid him to do so, they strolled

through the woods together for half an hour; after which she dismissed him, saying that it was time for her to partake of her midday meal. He ascertained the situation of her villa, and then bent his steps meditatively towards his hotel; endeavouring, as he went, to sum up the results of an interview to which he had looked forward for so many weeks, and which had not at all resembled his anticipations of it. In one sense it had been satisfactory enough; but, upon the whole, it had puzzled and disappointed him. The Countess had been perfectly friendly, perfectly at her ease, and had seemed to take it for granted that during the rest of her sojourn at Luchon they would meet frequently; but she had not chosen to allude in the most distant manner to the declaration that he had made before parting with her in Paris, and a lack of courage for which he was inclined to reproach himself had prevented him from renewing it. They had simply talked about trifles like a couple of tolerably intimate friends, which was really ridiculous. A certain virility and tenacity of purpose with which this young man was dowered, notwithstanding his genuine modesty, made him resolve that he would at least not accept the position of an amiable but impossible soupirant.

Thus it came to pass that, on the succeeding day, he betook himself to the Chalet des Rosiers with a decided step and a mind firmly set upon the speedy fulfilment of his destiny, whatever that might be. The pretty little wooden house, built in florid imitation of the Swiss order of domestic architecture, stood in the midst of a large and shady flower-garden, through which a brawling torrent, spanned by several rustic bridges, hurried on its way down the valley to meet the Garonne. A fat man, who wore a broad-brimmed straw hat, was seated in the garden, smoking a long pipe with a china bowl and perusing a German newspaper. He dropped the newspaper, and removed the pipe from his lips and his hat from his head as the visitor approached, saying:

'I was about to do myself the honour of calling upon you, sir.' 'How do you do, Dr. Schott?' returned Douglas affably. 'I am glad to have saved you the trouble of a walk in this hot

sun.'

'Oh, the trouble would have been nothing; I am accustomed to taking trouble. But, to speak honestly, I should not have ventured to remind you of our so slight acquaintance if I had not

been commissioned to deliver a message to you from the Countess, who, par parenthèse, is not at home. Pray, take a chair; in such weather on fait bien de se mettre à l'abri.'

The Doctor was rather proud of his French, which he was seldom permitted to air in the presence of his patroness, whose sensitive ear would not tolerate such methods of pronunciation as 'bar barendèse' or 'à l'apri.' Douglas Colborne was less fastidious; but he did not much like Dr. Schott, who was scrutinising him with a somewhat sardonic smile, and who, as he was aware, had not failed to notice his vexation on learning that he was not to be admitted into the house.

'Thank you,' he answered rather curtly, but I don't think I'll wait, since the Countess Radna is not at home. You had a message for me from her?'

The truth was that he fully believed the Countess to be at home at that moment; if so, the chances were that her message would not prove to be a welcome one. However, he was wrong; for the Countess was really out walking, and the communication which the Doctor presently made to him on her behalf turned out to be of a nature to raise his spirits and his hopes. The Countess, it appeared, had been suddenly seized with a craze for what her physician called 'les crandes ascensions. On the morrow she, attended by her limited suite, proposed to set forth with a view to scaling the Pic de Nethou, which is the highest summit of the Pyrenean range, and it had occurred to her that Mr. Colborne might like to be of the party. Mr. Colborne, it need scarcely be said, asked for nothing better, and was complimented upon his alacrity by his interlocutor, who remarked sadly:

'You have long legs and a light body; I have a heavy body and short legs. For you it may be a pleasure to scramble over rocks and ice and snow; for me it is a very great misery. Also a foolish and a most unnecessary misery.'

'Then why you should do it I don't know,' said Douglas, pertinently.

'Because I am paid to do it, my dear sir,' responded the corpulent German, with a half-impatient chuckle, 'because I have to be in attendance upon my employer, for whom over-exertion is at least as dangerous as it is for me. What if she were to faint or to sprain her ankle, or even to break a limb, which is a very possible event? I am compelled to be with her, although you are not, and I shall not be surprised if, at the end of this expe

dition, she has to remain in her bed for a week. I have told her as much; but ce que femme veut !'

He shrugged his fat shoulders, and, after a pause, mentioned the arrangements which had been made in preparation for the expedition. The start was to be effected as early as possible on the following morning; they were to drive as far as the Hospice de Luchon at the head of the valley; thence they were to cross the Port de Vénasque on mules or on foot, and they were to spend the night in some horrible cavern' on the slopes of the Maladetta. Beyond that no mule could go; so that the ascent of the mountain itself must be accomplished by the exercise of such powers of wind and limb as these unaccustomed pedestrians might possess amongst them.

'I do not think,' observed Dr. Schott pensively, 'that the Baroness will climb higher than the cave; we shall have to leave her there. As for me, I can only hope that my strength may hold out as long as the Countess's; for where she goes I must go.'

Such heroic determination deserved a better reward than the laughter with which Douglas Colborne greeted it. For his own part he was secretly in hopes that when the time came the Doctor might be prevailed upon to share Bickenbach's lonely tenancy of the cave, and that it would be his happy lot to escort the Countess to the summit, accompanied only by guides and porters who would not understand what they were saying to one another. It was a pleasing vision, and it sent him back to the hotel quite exultant.

CHAPTER VII.

ON THE PIC DE NETHOU.

It will perhaps be permitted to an old climber to doubt whether mountaineering is quite the most suitable or becoming form of exercise for ladies to adopt: he may at least take it upon himself to affirm that they will hardly find its immediate results becoming. However, it is far too late in the day to protest against the participation of women in every pursuit affected by man; and since it pleases them to hunt, shoot, drive four-in-hand and actually invade the sanctity of the smoking-room, some of us may take comfort from the thought that we are, happily, not bound to VOL. XIX.-NO. 110, N.S.

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