From the pretty stone bridge of two uneven arches which presently spanned this river, a beautiful view was obtained of winding waters, green tufted rocks and background of jagged blue mountain tops. Every turn was a richer study for an artist, and Nos. 1 and 3 lived in a constant frenzy of effort to secure a sketch, under the unfavourable conditions of a rapidly descending carriage, and two minutes of time allowed.
The irritation became a little less when once more we commenced ascending towards Bechisano; but the sky was now growing heavy and ominous with dark blue clouds, and the shade cast over us by a great hill—covered from top to bottom with ilex-trees, some hoary and grey with age, but for the most part shining in their rich young green with golden shoots—was no longer welcome, but depressing and gloomy.
Close to Bechisano, and exactly as we reached the summit of the Col San Georgio, the storm burst upon us. It had been raining more and more heavily for some time, when suddenly, without a previous rumble of any kind, came a vivid flash of lightning that blinded us, accompanied instantaneously by a crash of thunder like the firing of artillery.
After that storm, I never felt a moment's suspicion of Corsican horses.
We were creeping up the hill, the driver walking beside them; and although he put out his hand and silently clutched the reins, the jump they gave was almost imperceptible. As for him, he never turned a hair, but continued his silent reflective walk with the same equanimity, whilst the lightning flashed about him playfully, and spouts of rain poured down from his wide-awake hat.
The next hour was spent in a vain endeavour to keep out the driving sheets of rain which made all nature a blurred blot around us; and when we got out at Bechisano our feet were in a pool an inch or two deep, and our shawls made running streams over the floor of the dirty little inn. This inn was a wretched welcome, even for travellers so drowned and depressed as we were. There was a better one about half a mile further on, at the other end of the village; but, through some mistake, for which he afterwards deeply reproached himself, our driver halted here.
The little broken glass door led into two very small rooms, one opening out of the other, both stone floored; with one or two apologies for chairs, and a greasy table in the first room. This apartment had no fireplace; so necessity forced us to take refuge in the inner one, where a few sticks burnt upon the hearth, and where the family of four or five men and women, a dog, and a due proportion of babies, were huddled together, but they politely endeavoured to make room for us and our steaming garments. It was difficult not to stumble over the smaller fry, as the tiny room appeared to have no window, and was only partially lit up by gleams from the wood fire.
Logs, however, were piled up for our benefit; and as we made a feeble effort to dry our soaked feet, a cheerful maiden prepared our mid-day meal in the next room.
The floor of this room was in such a condition, that, when we entered and took our places beside the round table, we kept our eyes carefully turned heavenward, for fear of losing our appetites. We need not have feared, however, for there was nothing to eat.
Raw ham, with a steel fork sticking in it, was first offered to us; and when we declined that, then raw fish, and afterwards some third dish, likewise raw, of what nature I forget. We were hungry, and began to be desperate.