We
had seen her lady's maid at the hospice, concerning whom we were
told that she was "bien sage," and did not scream at the precipices.
On the top of the Gemini, too, at half-past seven in the morning, we
had met a somewhat similar lady walking alone with a blue parasol
over the snow; about half an hour after we met some porters carrying
her luggage, and found that she was an invalid lady of Berne, who
was walking over to the baths at Leukerbad for the benefit of her
health--we scarcely thought there could be much occasion--leaving
these two good ladies then, let us descend the Grimsel to the bottom
of the glacier of the Rhone, and then ascend the Furka--a stiff
pull; we got there by two o'clock, dined (Italian is spoken here
again), and finally reached Hospenthal at half-past five after a
very long day.
On Thursday walking down to Amstegg and taking a trap to Fluelen, we
then embarked on board a steamer and had a most enjoyable ride to
Lucerne, where we slept; Friday to Basle by rail, walking over the
Hauenstein, {2} and getting a magnificent panorama (alas! a final
one) of the Alps, and from Basle to Strasburg, where we ascended the
cathedral as far as they would let us without special permission
from a power they called Mary, and then by the night train to Paris,
where we arrived Saturday morning at ten.
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