"I know not where else you can go, mademoiselle," he replied, raising a grave disturbed face; "the horses are done up, and there is no inn within many kilomètres of this."
"Well, then, I suppose we must abide."
And Antonio withdrew with a distressed countenance; for, although eloquence was not his forte, it was a cause of dejection to him to think that the ladies under his care should be uncomfortable.
As for us, leaving our belongings behind us, we hurried out of the inn as fast as possible, and into the village street, to hunt for the telegraph office, which exists in every little village in Corsica.
Having at last, followed by the eyes of a quantity of lounging, velveteened men, and can-carrying busy women, and the feet of a little crowd of excited children, found it up a stone entrance a little further down the street, we made our way up the wooden ladder (which did duty for staircase) from the ground floor to the first story, where, imprisoned in a sort of wooden cage, a young woman transmitted our telegram to Ghisoni, at which place we were to spend the next night.
But as, contrary to custom, she either could not or would not understand French, and required a great many directions regarding our message, a bearded man or two and another young woman were all called in to interview us, under the excuse of explaining matters. These desired to know where we came from, how long we were stopping, and whither we intended going, taking the greatest interest in our answers, and evidently mentally making a detailed inventory of every article of our dress and feature on our face.
When at length we escaped, they all pursued us to the top of the wooden ladder, and put out three or four curious heads to peer after us; whilst our juvenile friends waited for us at the bottom.
We soon shook them off, however, walking briskly up the Corte road,—as beautiful a walk as one could well take.
After going about two miles, we came to a sharp turn in the hill-side, from which Monte d'Oro rises in its grandest, steepest, closest proximity.
Tremendous heavy blue thunder-clouds hung over our heads and glowered over the purple shadows and white snows of the great Alp, rising from the gorge just beside us; on the other side were steep maquis-covered and craggy hills.