“What sort of an outside-in fashion is that, Slingsby?” asked the Captain, when they had reached the bottom.
“It’s a way I have of relieving my knees,” said Slingsby; “try it.”
“Thank ’ee; no,” returned the Captain. “It don’t suit my pecooliar build; it would throw too much of my weight amidships.”
“You’ve no idea,” said Slingsby, “what a comfort it is to a man whose knees suffer in descending. I’d rather go up twenty mountains than descend one. This plan answers only on steep places, and is but a temporary relief. Still that is something at the end of a long day.”
The artist exemplified his plan at the next slope. The Captain tried it, but, as he expressed it, broke in two at the waist and rolled down the slope, to the unspeakable delight of his friends.
“I fear you will find this rather severe?” said the Professor to Emma, during a pause in a steep ascent.
“Oh no; I am remarkably strong,” replied Emma, smiling. “I was in Switzerland two years ago, and am quite accustomed to mountaineering.”
“Yes,” remarked Lawrence, “and Miss Gray on that occasion, I am told, ascended to the top of the Dent du Midi, which you know is between ten and eleven thousand feet high; and she also, during the same season, walked from Champéry to Sixt which is a good day’s journey, so we need have no anxiety on her account.”
Although the Doctor smiled as he spoke, he also glanced at Emma with a look of admiration. Captain Wopper noted the glance and was comforted. At luncheon, however, the Doctor seated himself so that the Professor’s bulky person came between him and Emma. The Captain noted that also, and was depressed. What between elation and depression, mingled with fatigue and victuals, the Captain ultimately became recklessly jovial.
“What are yonder curious things?” asked Emma, pointing to so me gigantic objects which looked at a distance like rude pillars carved by man.