At this point the story of a good Highland minister came up in my mind
inopportunely, as these things will. He was endeavouring to steer a
boat-load of city young ladies to a landing-place. A squall was
bursting; the harbour was difficult. One of the girls annoyed him by
jumping up and calling anxiously, "O, where are we going to? Where are
we going to?" "If you do not sit down and keep still, my young leddy,"
said the minister-pilot succinctly, "that will verra greatly depend on
how you was brocht up!"

The place at which I remembered this might have been a fine place for an
observatory. It was not so convenient for reminiscence. Here the path
ended. I was as far as Turn Back. I therefore tried more round to the
right. The rocks were so slippery with the melted snow of yesterday that
the nails in my boots refused to grip. But presently there, remained
only a snow-slope, and a final pull up a great white-fringed bastion of
rock. Here was the summit; and even as I reached it, over the Bernina
the morning was breaking clear.

I took from my back the pine-branch which had been such a difficulty to
me in the narrow places of the ascent; and with the first ray of the
morning sun, from the summit of Langrev the pennon of the Countess Lucia
streamed out. I thought of Manager Gutwein down there on the look-out,
and I rejoiced that I had pledged him to secrecy.

_Gutwein_--there was a sound as of cakes and ale in the very name.

A little way beneath the summit, where the Thal wind does not vex, I sat
me down on the sunny eastern side to consult with the Gutwein breakfast.
A bottle of cold tea--"Hum," said I; "that may keep till I get farther
down. It will be useful in case of emergency--there is nothing like cold