That Stick ...

The summer was a very hot one, and the travellers, in spite of the charm of new scenes, and the wonders of everything to their unsophisticated eyes, found it trying.  Constance indeed was in a state of constant felicity and admiration, undimmed except by the flagging of her two fellow-travellers in the heated and close German railway cars.  Her uncle’s head suffered much, and Lady Northmoor secretly thought her maid’s refusal to accompany them showed her to be a prudent woman.  However, the first breath of mountain air was a grand revival to Lord Northmoor, and at Innsbruck he was quite alive, and walked about in fervent delight, not desisting till he and Constance had made out every statue on Maximilian’s monument.  His wife was so much tired and worn-out, that she heartily rejoiced in having provided him with such a good little companion, though she was disappointed at being obliged to fail him, and get what rest she could at the hotel.  But then, as she told him, if he learnt his way about it now, he would be able p. 130to show it all to her when they had both gained strength at Ratzes.

Bertha had obtained full instructions and a welcome for them from Mrs. Bury, a kindly person, who, having married off her children while still in full health and vigour, remained at the service of any relation who needed her, and in the meantime resorted to out-of-the-way places abroad.

The railway took them to Botzen, which was hotter still, and thence on to Castelruth, whence there was no means of reaching Ratzes but by mule or chaise а porteux.  Both alike were terrible to poor Mary; however, she made up her mind to the latter, and all the long way was to her a dream of terror and discomfort, and of trying to admire—what she knew she ought to admire—the wonderful pinnacle-like aiguilles of the Schern cleaving the air.  For some time the way lay over the great plateau of the Scisser Alp—a sea of rich grass, full of cattle, where her husband and niece kept on trying to bring their mules alongside of her to make her participate in their ecstasy, and partake of their spoils—mountain pink, celestially blue gentian, brilliant poppy, or the like.  Here the principal annoyance was that their mules were so obstinately bent on not approaching her that she was in constant alarm for them, while Constance was absolutely wild with delight, and even grave Frank was exhilarated by the mountain air into boyish spirits, such as impressed her, though she resolutely prevented herself from lowering them by manifesting want of sympathy, though the aiguilles that they p. 131admired seemed to her savage, and the descent, along a perilous winding road, cut out among precipices, horrified her—on, on, through endless pine forests, where the mules insisted on keeping her in solitude, and where nothing could be seen beyond the rough jolting path.  At last, when a whole day had gone by, and even Constance sat her mule in silence and looked very tired, the fir trees grew more scanty.  The aiguilles seemed in all their wildness to be nodding overhead; there was a small bowling-green, a sort of chвlet in two divisions, united by a gallery: but Mary saw no more, for at that moment a loose slippery stone gave way, and the bearers stumbled and fell, dragging the chair so that it tipped over.

Constance, who had ridden on in front with her uncle, first heard a cry of dismay, and as both leaped off and rushed back, they saw her aunt had fallen, and partly entangled in the chair.

‘Do not touch her!’ cried Frank, forgetting that he could not be understood, and raising her in his arms, as the chair was withdrawn; but she did not speak or move, and there was a distressing throng and confusion of strange voices, seeming to hem them in as Constance looked round, unable to call up a single word of German, or to understand the exclamations.  Then, as she always said, it was like an angel’s voice that said, ‘What is it?’ as through the crowd came a tall lady in a white hat and black gown, and knelt down by the prostrate figure, saying, ‘I hope she is only stunned; let us carry her in.  It will be better to let her come round there.’

p. 132The lady gave vigorous aid, and, giving a few orders in German, helped Lord Northmoor to carry the inanimate form into the hotel, a low building of stone, with a high-pitched shingle roof.  Constance followed in a bewilderment of fright, together with Lenchen, the Swiss maid, who, as well as could be made out, was declaring that a Swiss bearer never made a false step.