CHAPTER XI.
THE GLACIÈRE OF CHAPPET-SUR-VILLAZ, ON THE MONT PARMELAN, NEAR ANNECY.
We started southwards from the Glacière of Grand Anu, for such they said was the proper name for the cave last described, and passed over some of the wildest walking I have seen. All the most striking features of a glacier were here reproduced in stone: now narrow deep crevasses which only required a slight spring; now much more formidable rents, which we were obliged to circumvent by a détour; now dark mysterious holes with vertical shell-like partitions at various depths; and now a perfect moulin, with fluted sides and every detail appertaining to those remarkable pits, the hollow plunge of falling water alone excepted. In other parts, the smooth slab-like appearance of the surface reminded me of a curious district on one of the summits of the Jura, where the French frontier takes the line of crest, and the old stones marked with the fleur-de-lys and the Helvetic cross are still to be found. In those border regions the old historic distinctions are still remembered, and the frontier Vaudois call the neighbouring French Bourguignons--or, in their patois, Borgognons. They keep up the tradition of old hatreds; and the strange bleak summit, with its smooth slabs of Jura-chalk lying level with the surface, is so much like a vast cemetery, that the wish in old times has been father to the thought, and they call it still the Cemetery of the Burgundians, Cimetiros ai Borgognons.[[73]]
After a time, we reached a tumbled chaos of rock, much resembling the ice-fall of a glacier, and, on descending, and rounding a low spur of the mountain so as to take a north-westerly course, we found ourselves in a perfect paradise of flowers. One orchis I shall always regret. There seemed to be only a single head, closely packed with flowerets, and strongly scented; it was a pure white, not the green and straw-coloured white of other scented orchises. There were large patches of the delicate faux-lis (Paradisia liliastrum); and though there might not be anything very rare, and the lovely glacier-flowers were of course wanting, the whole was a rich feast for anyone who cares more for delicacy and colour than for botany.
The maire told us that he had found the glacière, for which we were now in search, two years before, when he accompanied the government surveyor to show him the forests and mountains which formed his property. As he had on that occasion approached the spot from the other side, we walked a long way to place him exactly where the surveyor and he had crossed the ridge of the mountain, and then started him down from the Col in the direction they had taken. He was certain of two things: first, that they had passed by the Col between the Mont Parmelan and the Montagne de l'Eau; and, secondly, that the glacière was within five minutes of the highest point of the Col. For three-quarters of an hour we all broke our shins, and the officials the Third Commandment. They invoked more saints than I had ever heard of, and, in default, did not scruple to appeal with shocking volubility to darker aid. It was all of no use,--and well it might be; for when we had given it up in despair, after long patience and a considerable period of the contrary, and had descended for half an hour in the direction of a third glacière, I chanced to look back, and saw that the Col in the neighbourhood of which we had been searching lay between two points of the Montagne de l'Eau; while the true Col between that mountain and the Mont Parmelan lay considerably to the west. When it appears that a guide has probably made a mistake, the only plan is to assume quietly that it is so, as if it were a matter of no consequence, and then he may sometimes be decoyed into allowing the fact: I therefore pointed out to the maire the true Col, and told him that was the one by which he had passed southwards, when he found the glacière; to which, with unnecessary strength of language, he at once assented. But all my efforts to take him back were unavailing. Nothing in the world should carry him up the mountain again, now that he had happily got so far down. I worked his best and his worst feelings with equal want of success; even national jealousy failed, and he was content to know that a French maire had not pluck to face three-quarters of an hour of climbing, when an English priest was ready to lead the way. The schoolmaster declined to go alone with me, on the ground that neither of us knew the mountain, and threatening clouds were gathering all around. When, at last, I proposed to go by myself, they became menacingly obstructive, and declared that I should certainly not be allowed to face the intricacy of the mountain in a fog. Besides, as the maire put it, he was sure of the way to the third glacière; and if I were to go up alone to look for the second, I should lose a certainty for a chance, as there was not time to visit both. So with an ill grace I continued the descent with them, being restored to good humour before long by the beauty of the Lake of Annecy, as seen from our elevated position.
It is so impossible to accept in full the accounts one picks up of natural curiosities, that I give the maire's description of the stray glacière only for what it is worth. It was not extracted without much laborious cross-examination--sais paw vous le dire being the average answer to my questions. The entrance to the cave is about twice as high as a man, and is in a small shallow basin of rock and grass. The floor is level with the entrance, and the roof rises inside to a good height. In shape it is like a Continental bread-oven; and at the time of the maire's visit, the floor was a confused mass of ice and stones, the former commencing at the very entrance. There was no ice except on the floor, the area of which might be as large as that of the surface of the ice in the Glacière of Grand Anu. No pit was to be seen, and not a drop of water. Snow could have drifted in easily, but they saw no signs of any remaining. If this account be true, especially with respect to the position of the entrance and the horizontal direction of the floor, I have seen no glacière like it.
We descended for a time through fir-woods, and then again down steep and barren rocks, till we reached the sharp slope of grass which so frequently connects the base of a mountain with the more civilised forests and the pasturages below. The maire led us for some distance along the top of this grass slope, towards the west, skirting the rocks till they became precipitous and lofty, when he said we must be near our point. Still we went on and on without seeing any signs of it, and our guide seemed in despair; and I, for one, entirely gave up the third cave to the same fate as the second, and became very sulky and remonstrative. The entrance to the glacière, the maire told us, was a hole in the face of the highest rocks, 3 or 4 yards only above the grass; and as we had now reached a part of the mountain where the rock springs up smooth and high, and we could command the whole face, and yet saw nothing, the schoolmaster came over to my side, and told the maire he was a humbug. However, we were then within a few yards of the desired spot, and half-a-dozen steps showed us a small cheminée, down which a strong and icy current of wind blew. The maire shouted a shout of triumph, and climbed the cheminée; and when we also had done the necessary gymnastics, we found a hole facing almost due north, all within being dark. The current blew so determinedly, that matches were of no use, and I was obliged to seek a sheltered corner before I could light a candle; and, when lighted, the candle was with difficulty kept from being blown out. No ice was visible, nor any signs of such a thing,--nothing but a very irregular narrow cave, with darkness at the farther end. As we advanced, we found that the floor of the cave came to a sudden end, and the darkness developed into a strange narrow fissure, which reached out of sight upwards, and out of sight below; and down this the maire rolled stones, saying that there was the glacière, if only one could get at it without a tourneau. Considering the persistency with which he had throughout declared that there was no possible need for a rope, I gave him some of my mind here, in that softened style which his official dignity demanded; but he excused himself by saying that the gentleman who owned the glacière, and extracted the ice for private use only, was now living at his summer châlet, a mile or two off, and he, the maire, had felt confident that the tourneau would have been fitted up for the season.
On letting a candle down from the termination of the floor, we found that the perpendicular drop was not more than 12 feet, and from the shelf thus reached it seemed very possible to descend to the farther depths of the fissure; but I had become so sceptical, that I persisted in asserting that there was no ice below. The maire's manner, also, was strange, and I suspected that the cold current of air had caused the place to be called a glacière, with any other qualification on the part of the cave. One thing was evident,--no snow could reach the fissure. M. Métrai was determined that I must not attempt the descent, pointing out, what was quite true, that though the fall was not great, there seemed no possibility of getting back up the smooth rock. His arguments increased my suspicions; so, leaving all apparatus behind, I dropped down to join the candle, rather hoping to have the satisfaction of sending them off for a rope, in case I could not achieve the last few feet in returning, and knowing that there was no danger of the fate which once threatened the chamois-hunting Kaiser Max.[[74]]
The drop turned out to be a mere nothing, and, taking the candle, I scrambled on, down the sloping floor of the fissure, towards the heart of the mountain, expecting every moment that my further passage would be stopped by solid rock. But, after reaching a part so narrow that I was obliged to mount by both sides at once in order to get past it, I found a commodious gallery, opening out into a long and narrow and very lofty cavern, still only a fissure, the floor of which continued the regular and rapid slope down which I had so far come. A short way farther down, an opening appeared to the left; and I turned off the main passage into a horizontal gallery or chamber, with a floor of ice resting on rock and stones. This chamber seemed to be 3 or 4 yards wide at the entrance, narrowing regularly to 4 1/2 feet. It was 40 feet long, and at the farther end, which would not have been visible from the entrance, on account of a slight bend in the ice-gallery, even if there had been any light, it was closed by an ice-cascade 7 yards high and 4 1/2 feet broad at the bottom. The ice of much of this cascade was so clear, that I saw the rock upon which it rested, or in some parts did not rest, quite plainly, and the large air-cavities in the structure were beautifully shown by the richly-coloured rock behind. None of the current which we had observed above, and which had nearly baffled my protecting care of the candle during the descent, came from this gallery; but I find it written in my notes that the gallery was very cold. Thaw was going on, rather rapidly; and the water stole out by the entrance, and ran down the main descent, over ice and among rocks, into the farther darkness.
When I came out again from this gallery, I mounted the slope towards my companions, and tried to tempt them down. The maire felt himself to be too valuable to his country to be lightly risked, and declined to come; but Rosset took a bold heart, and dropped, after requiring from me a solemn promise that I would give him a back for his return up the rock. We visited the gallery I had already explored, and, as we stood admiring the cascade of ice, a skilful drop of water came from somewhere, and extinguished our only candle. My matches were with the maire; and I was equally sure that he would not bring them down to us, and that we could not go up to fetch them without a light. Rosset, however, very fortunately, had a box in his pocket for smoking purposes; and we cut off the wet wick, and cut down the composition to form another, and so contrived to light the candle again. While we were thus engaged, I chanced to look up for a moment, and saw far above our heads a small opening in the roof, through which a few rays of light entered from the outer world. It was so very far above us, that the uncertain rays were lost long before they got down to our level, being absorbed in the universal darkness, and being in fact rather suggested than visible even at their strongest. Those who have been at Lauterbrunnen in a very dry season, will understand how these rays presented the appearance of a ghostly Staubbach of unreal light. We must have been at an immense depth below the surface in which the opening lay; and if there had been a long day before us, it would have been curious to search for the fissure above. Sir Thomas Browne says, in the Religio Medici, 'Conceive light invisible, and that is a spirit.' We very nearly saw a spirit here.
The descent from the mouth of this chamber to the deeper recesses of the main fissure was very rough, but was speedily accomplished, and we reached a point where solid rock stopped us in face; while, to the right, a chamber with a threshold of ice was visible, and, to the left, a dark opening, down which the descent appeared to continue. From this opening all the strong cold current came. We took the ice-chamber first.
The entrance had evidently been closed till very lately by a large column of ice, and we passed over the débris, between rock portals and on a floor of solid grey ice, into a triangular cave of any height the imagination might choose to fix. The entire floor of the cave was of ice, giving the impression of infinite thickness and firmness. A little water stood on it, near the threshold, so limpid that we could not see where it commenced. The base of this triangular floor we found to be 17 feet, and its altitude 30 feet; and though these dimensions may seem comparatively small, the whole effect of the thick mass of ice on which we stood, with the cascades of ice in the corners, and the ice-figures on the walls, and the three sides of the cave passing up into sheer darkness, was exceedingly striking, situated, as it all was, so deep down in the bowels of the earth. The original entrance to the fissure, at the top of the cheminée, was, as has been said, at the base of lofty rocks, and we had descended very considerably from the entrance; so that, even without the strange light thrown upon the matter by the small hole overhead, through which we had seen the day struggling to force its way into the cavern, we should have been sure that we were now at an immense distance below the surface. One corner of the cave was occupied by a broad and solid-looking cascade, while another corner showed the opening of a very narrow fissure, curved like one of the shell-shaped crevasses of a glacier. Into this fissure the ice-floor streamed; and Rosset held my coat-tails while I made a few steps down the stream, when the fall became too rapid for further voluntary progress. I let down a stone for 18 feet, when it stuck fast, and would move neither one way nor the other. The upper wall of this fissure was clothed with moss-like ice, and ice of the prismatic structure,--with here and there large scythe-blades, as it were, attached by the sharp edge to the rock, and lying vertically with the heel outwards. One of these was 11 inches deep, from the heel to the rock, and only one-eighth of an inch thick at the thickest part.
The angle occupied by the cascade or column was the most striking. The base of the column was large, and apparently solid, like a smooth unbroken waterfall suddenly frozen. It fitted into the angle of the cave, and completely filled up the space between the contiguous walls. I commenced to chop with my axe, and before long found that this ice was hollow, though very thick; and when a sufficient hole was made for me to get through, I saw that what had looked like a column was in truth only a curtain of ice hung across the angle of the cave. Within the curtain the ice-floor still went on, streaming down at last into a fissure something like that in the other corner. The curtain was so low, that I was obliged to sit on the ice inside to explore; and after a foot or two of progress, the slope towards the fissure became sufficiently great to require steps to be cut. The stream of ice turned round a bend in the fissure, very near the curtain, and was lost to view; but Rosset stood by the hole through which I had passed--on the safer side of it--and despatched blocks of ice, which glided past me round the corner, and went whizzing on for a long time, eventually landing upon stones, and sometimes, we fancied, in water. It is very awkward work, sitting on a gentle slope of the smoothest possible ice, with a candle in one hand, and an axe in the other, cutting each step in front; especially when there is nothing whatever to hold by, and the slope is sufficient to make it morally certain that in case of a slip all must go together. Of course, a rope would have made all safe. When I groaned over the maire's obstinacy, Rosset asked what could possibly be the use of a rope, if I were to slip; and, to my surprise, I found that he had no idea what I wanted a rope for. When he learned that, had there been one, he would have played a large part in the adventure, and that he might have had me dangling over an ice-fall out of sight round the corner, he added his groans to mine, and would evidently have enjoyed it all very much. At the same time, he was prudent, and, as each block of ice made its final plunge, he told me that was what would happen to me if I went any farther: and, really, the pictures he drew of deep lakes of icy water and jagged points of rock, between which I must make my choice down there, were so unpleasant, that at last I desisted, and pushed myself up backwards, still in a sitting posture, calling Rosset and the maire the worst names I could feel justified in using. On the way, I found one of the large brown flies which we had seen in the Glacière of La Genollière, and in the Lower Glacière of the Pré de S. Livres.
Rosset now told me he was so cold he could stand it no longer; but, after a little pressure, and a declaration on my part that he should not have a candle for going up again, he consented to remain with me while I explored the remaining chamber, the lowest of all. This chamber may be called a continuation of the main passage. It is of about the same width as the highest of the three chambers, and the floor descends rapidly, the cold current of air becoming very strong and biting as we penetrated into the darkness. As the Genevese savans seemed to believe in 'cold currents' as the cause of underground ice, I was naturally anxious to see as much as possible of the state of this gallery, from which every particle of the current seemed to come. We very soon reached a narrow dark lake, and, exclaiming that here was ice again, I stepped, not on to, but into it, and found that it was water. When our solitary candle was brought to bear upon it, we saw that it was so clear as not in any way to impede our view, producing rather the effect of slightly-clouded spectacles upon the stones at the bottom. This lake filled up the whole breadth of the gallery, here perhaps 4 or 5 feet, and rapidly passed to the depth of a yard; but for a little distance there were unstable stones at one edge, and steps in the rock-wall, by which I could pass on still into the darkness, supported by an alpenstock planted in the water. The current of cold air blew along the surface of the water from the farther extremity of the gallery, wherever that might be. As far as our eyes could reach, we saw nothing but the black channel of water, with its precipitous sides passing up beyond our sight. It might have been possible to progress in a spread-eagle fashion, with one hand and one foot on each side; but a fall would have been so bitterly unpleasant, that I made a show of condescension in acceding to Rosset's request that I would not attempt such a thing. In the course of my return to the rocks where he stood, I involuntarily fathomed the depth of the lake, luckily in a shallower part, and was so much struck by the coldness of the water, that I left Rosset with the candle, and struggled up without a light to the place where we had left the maire, or rather to the bottom of the drop from the entrance-cave, to get the thermometer. The maire was sunning himself on the rock, out of reach of the cold current; but he came in, and let down the case, and I quickly rejoined the schoolmaster. At first, it would have been impossible to move about without a light; but our eyes had now become to some extent accustomed to the darkness, and I had learned the difficulties of the way.
When the thermometers were suspended in the water, Rosset asked how long they must stay there. I rashly answered, a quarter of an hour; on which he demanded indignantly whether I supposed he meant to stay in that cold for a quarter of an hour. He had now the candle in his own possession, and I was propped on a stone and an alpenstock in the lake, so he turned to go, vowing that he would leave me alone in the dark if I did not come out at once. There was no help for it, as the thermometer would have been of no use without a candle, and a step in the dark is not pleasant when all around is water, so I slowly drew up the thermometer and read 33° F. In making final arrangements for departure, I let it lie in the water for a few seconds longer, and it fell to 32½°; but Rosset would not stay a moment longer, and I was obliged to be content with that result. He made himself very easy about the matter, and said we must call it zero; and in the evening I heard him telling the maire that the greatest of the wonders he had missed, by his patriotic care for his neck, was a lake of water which did not freeze, though its temperature was zero (centigrade).
Among the stones at the bottom of this water, I saw here and there patches of a furry sort of ice. I have often watched the freezing of a rapid Scotch stream, where, in the swifter parts, the ice forms first at the bottom and gradually creeps up the larger stones till it appears on the surface, and becomes a nucleus, round which pieces of floating ice collect; and the substance in the glacière-lake had exactly the same appearance as the Scotch ground-ice. But it could not be the same thing in reality, for, as far as I understand the phenomenon of ground-ice, some disturbed motion of the water is necessary, to drive down below the surface the cold particles of water, which become ice the moment they strike upon any solid substance shaped like fractured stone;[[75]] the specific gravity of freezing water being so much less than that of water at a somewhat higher temperature, that without some disturbing cause it would not sink to the bottom.[[76]] So that it seems probable that the ice at the bottom of the lake was the remains of a solid mass, of which the greater part had been converted into water by some warm influence or other. We noticed that a little water trickled down among the stones which formed the slope of descent into the lowest gallery, so that perhaps the lake was a collection of water from all parts of the various ramifications of the fissure. Whence came the icy wind, it is impossible to say, without further exploration. It was satisfactory to me to find that the 'cold current' of the Genevese savans was thus associated with water, and not with ice, in the only cave in which I had detected its presence to any appreciable extent, the currents of the Glacière of Monthézy being of a totally different description.
When we reached the final rock, in ascending, I offered Rosset the promised back, but he got up well enough without it. Before leaving the entrance-cave, we inspected the thermometer which we had left to test the temperature of the current of air, and, to my surprise, found it standing at 48°. We saw, however, that it had been carelessly propped on a piece of rock which sheltered it from the influence of the current, so I exposed it during the time occupied in arranging the bag of tapes, &c., and it fell to 36°: whether it would have fallen lower, the impatience of Rosset has left me unable to say. If I can ever make an opportunity for visiting the Mont Parmelan again, I shall hope to take a cord, in order to investigate the mysterious corner of the triangular chamber; and I shall certainly make myself independent of shivering Frenchmen while I measure the temperature of the lake and the current of air. We met a man outside who said that he was employed by the owner, M. de Chosal of Annecy, to cut the ice; he had been down three times to the lowest gallery in different years, in the end of July, and had always found the same collection of water there. The glacière, he told us, was discovered about thirty years ago.
The maire had basked in the sun all the time we were down below, and he expressed himself as much pleased that we had found so much to interest us, in spite of the miscarriage of our efforts to reach the second glacière. We set off down the steep grass at a scrambling sliding run, against which I was speedily obliged to protest, explaining that a certain ugly inflammation above the left knee was becoming worse every other step, and as the leg must last three days longer, it would be as well to humour it. They saw the force of this reasoning, and we descended with much gravity till we came in sight of the Mairie, still half an hour off, when Rosset cried out that he smelled supper, and rushed off at an infectious pace down the remainder of the mountain-side.
We reached the Mairie at six o'clock, and sat down at once 'to eat something.' The first course was bread and kirsch; and when that was finished, six boiled eggs appeared, and a quart carafe of white wine. These having vanished, their place was taken by a dish of sodden cabbage, and another quart of wine; but, to save the credit of the maire and the schoolmaster, I will not say how often the former functionary descended to the cellar with a quart pitcher, with increasing impetuosity. Next came a dish of onions, with a pretence of mange-tout, broiled brown after boiling, and served in a compound fat; and then haricots with a like condiment, and with a flavour reminiscent of the previous course. There was some talk of a poulet; but the bird still lived, and the talk came to nothing. The dinner ended with the haricots, and we then relapsed into dessert, namely, bread and kirsch. The mayoress came in with the dessert, and sat on the end of the bench, below the hats and the bread-tin, eating the remaining onions off the dish with the spoon of nature.
During one of the maire's frequent visits to the cellar, I propounded a question to the schoolmaster which had puzzled me for some time: Was I to pay the maire? M. Rosset said that it was certainly not necessary, but I had better propose it, and I should then see how M. Métral took it. This I accordingly did, when the adieux in the house had been said, and my host was showing me the way to Thorens, where I was to sleep, he, also, declared that it was not necessary--the pleasure he had experienced in accompanying me had already fully recompensed him: still, if I wished to reimburse him for that which I had actually cost, he was a man reasonable, and in all cases content. I calculated that the dinner and wine which had fallen to my share would be dear at a franc, and the day's wage of a substitute to do the maire's neglected work could not come to much, so I boldly and unblushingly gave that great man four francs, and he said regretfully that it was more than enough. To his son and heir--the identical boy who had brought the ring of bread up the mountain to the chalet where we lunched. I gave something under two-pence, for guiding me across two doubtful fields into a beaten track, and he expressed himself as even more content than the maire. They both told me that it was impossible to miss the way; but I imagine that I achieved that impossibility, as I had to walk through two streams in the deepening twilight, and the prevailing fear of water in that region is very considerable.
The auberge at Thorens to which the maire had recommended me, as being the best, and kept by a personal friend of his, bore the sign à la Parfaite Union. The entry was by the kitchen, and through the steam and odour of onions, illuminated by one doubtful oil-lamp, I saw the guest-room filled with people in Sunday dress, while two fiddles played each its own tune in its own time. Nothing but the potent name of M. the Maire of Aviernoz gained me even a hearing; and, for a bed, I was obliged to stretch my intimacy with that exalted personage to the very furthest bounds of truth. Chappaz Nicolai, whose name the maire had written in my note-book, that there might be no mistake, appeared to be of that peculiar mental calibre which warrants Yorkshire peasants in describing a man as 'half-rocked,' or 'not plumb.' His wife, on the other hand, was one of those neat, gentle, sensible women, of whom one wonders how they ever came to marry such thick-lipped and blear-eyed men. Between them they informed me that if I did not object to share a room, I could be taken in; otherwise--maire or no maire--not. I asked whether they meant half a bed; but they said no, that would not be necessary at present; and I accepted the offered moiety of accommodation, as it was now seventeen hours since I had started in the morning, and I was not inclined to turn out in the dark to look for a whole room elsewhere.
The stairs were a sort of cross between a ladder and nothing, and when we reached the proposed room a large mastiff was in possession, who would not let us enter till the master was summoned to expel him. The furniture consisted of a table and five chairs, with no bed or beds. On the chairs were various articles of clothing, blouses and garments more profound, belonging probably to members of the party below; and on the table, a bottle of water and a soup-plate, the pitcher and basin of the house. It was a mere slip of a room, with two diamond-shaped holes in one wall, whose purpose I discovered when my guide opened a papered door, in which were the holes, and displayed two beds foot to foot in an alcove. One of these, she was sure, would be too short for me, but she feared I must be satisfied with it, as the other was much broader and would therefore hold the two messieurs. How the two? I asked, and was told that two pensionnaires lived in this room; but they were old friends, and for one night would sleep in the same bed to oblige monsieur. The ideas of length and breadth in connection with the beds were entirely driven from my head by the fact of their dirtiness; and I determined that if the two pensionnaires occupied the one, the other should be unoccupied.
After arranging things a little, I struggled down the steps again, and ordered coffee and bread in a little room, which commanded the assembly with the fiddles in the larger salle. The head waitress, busy as she was, found time to come now and then to an open window near where I sat, and talked to a male friend sitting outside in the dark: indeed, she did more than talk, and people had to rattle their glasses very hard before they could make her hear. From her I learned that this was a marriage party which had arrived; and when I asked why they did not dance, as the fiddles were engaged at that moment with unwonted unanimity upon dance-music, she gave me to understand that these were not people of Thorens, but only a party from another village, making the evening promenade after the wedding: from which it would seem that it is not the etiquette for people to dance under such circumstances, except in the home village. They sat round a table, men and women alternately, with their hats on, and with glasses before them. The bride and bridegroom were accommodated with a bench to themselves at the head of the table, he likewise with his hat on, and with a pipe in his mouth, which, seeing that he was a demonstrative bridegroom, one might have supposed to be an inconvenience. He managed very well, however, and every one seemed contented: indeed, the pipe must, I think, be held to be no difficulty; for the men all smoked, and yet, to judge from appearances, there was a prospect of as many marriages as there were couples in the room. The unruffled gravity, however, and the apparent want of zest, both in giving and receiving, which characterised the proceedings specially referred to, led me to suppose that it might be only a part of the etiquette, and so meant nothing serious.
Between ten and eleven the fiddles and the party vanished, and I went up-stairs more determined than ever not to touch a bed, after my experience of the room below. Three chairs were speedily arranged between the table and wall, and on these I lay and tried to sleep. But the very chairs were populous, as I had found below, and sleep was impossible. Moreover, soon after eleven, a soldier came into the room, to arrange about his breakfast with one of the maidens in the house. He had heard me order fresh butter for six o'clock, and he was anxious to know, whether, by breakfasting at five o'clock, he could get my butter. The chairs which formed my bed were under the lee of the table, so that the figure recumbent on them was invisible, and the gallant soldier, under the impression that there was no one in the room, enforced his arguments by other than conventional means. But military lips, when applied personally, proved to be a rhetoric as unsuccessful as military words. The maid was platonic, and something more than platonic; and the hero got so much the worst of it, that he gave up the battle, and changed the subject to a conscript in his charge, who had locked himself in his bed-room and would not answer. How was he to know whether he had the conscript safe? All this lasted some time; and when they were gone, one of the pensionnaires came in. With him I had to fight the battle of the window, which I had opened to its farthest extent. After he had got over the first surprise and shock of finding me on the chairs instead of in the bed, for whose comfort he vouched enthusiastically, he became confident that it was merely out of complaisance to him and his comrade that I had opened the window, and assured me that they really did not care for fresh air, even if they could feel the difference in the alcove, which he declared they could not. As soon as that was arranged to my satisfaction, the other pensionnaire came in, and with him the battle was fought with only half success, for he peremptorily closed one side of the window. He was a particularly noisy pensionnaire, and shied his boots into every corner of the room before they were posed to his satisfaction. As far as I could tell, the removal of the boots was the only washing and undressing either of them did; and then they arranged their candles in the alcove, lighted cigars, and got into bed. There the wretches sat up on end, smoking and talking vehemently, till sheer exhaustion came to my aid, and I fell asleep; but the edges of the rush-bottomed chairs speedily became so sharp that a recumbent posture ceased to be possible, and I sat dozing on one chair. A little before four o'clock, the noisier man got up to look for his boots; and as the friends continued their discussion, I also turned out and made for the nearest stream, where I bathed in a rapid at half-past four, to wash away, if possible, the horrors of the night.