a mile or so before. I am certain it was an argument because I remember
perfectly how my tutor argued and how without the power of reply I
listened with my eyes fixed obstinately on the ground. A stir on the
road made me look up--and then I saw my unforgettable Englishman. There
are acquaintances of later years, familiars, shipmates, whom I remember
less clearly. He marched rapidly towards the east (attended by a
hang-dog Swiss guide) with the mien of an ardent and fearless traveller.
He was clad in a knickerbocker suit, but as at the same time he wore
short socks under his laced boots, for reasons which whether hygienic or
conscientious were surely imaginative, his calves exposed to the public
gaze and to the tonic air of high altitudes, dazzled the beholder by the
splendour of their marble-like condition and their rich tone of young
ivory. He was the leader of a small caravan. The light of a headlong,
exalted satisfaction with the world of men and the scenery of mountains
illumined his clean-cut, very red face, his short, silver-white
whiskers, his innocently eager and triumphant eyes. In passing he cast
a glance of kindly curiosity and a friendly gleam of big, sound, shiny
teeth towards the man and the boy sitting like dusty tramps by the
roadside, with a modest knapsack lying at their feet. His white calves
twinkled sturdily, the uncouth Swiss guide with a surly mouth stalked
like an unwilling bear at his elbow; a small train of three mules
followed in single file the lead of this inspiring enthusiast. Two
ladies rode past one behind the other, but from the way they sat I saw
only their calm, uniform backs, and the long ends of blue veils hanging
behind far down over their identical hat-brims. His two daughters
surely. An industrious luggage-mule, with unstarched ears and guarded by
a slouching, sallow driver, brought up the rear. My tutor, after pausing
for a look and a faint smile, resumed his earnest argument.

I tell you it was a memorable year! One does not meet such an Englishman