CHAPTER III

ON THE TOP OF THE WORLD


The rack-and-pinion railway from Montricheux to the Dents de Loup wound
upward like a single filament flung round the mountains by some giant
spider. The miniature train, edging its way along the track, appeared no
more than a mere speck as it crept tortuously up towards the top. At its
rear puffed a small engine, built in a curious tilted fashion, so that as
it laboured industriously behind the coaches of the train it reminded one
ridiculously of a baby elephant on its knees.

Ann was leaning against the windowless framework of the railway carriage,
watching the valleys drop away, curve by curve, as the train climbed. Far
below lay the lake, a blue rift glimmering between pine-clad heights. Then
a turn of the track and the lake was swept suddenly out of sight, while the
mountains closed round--shoulder after green-clad shoulder, with fields of
white narcissus flung across them like fairy mantles. The air was full of
the fragrance of narcissus mingling with the pungent scent of fir and pine.
Ann sniffed luxuriously and glanced round to where Tony was sitting.

"Doesn't it smell clean and delicious?" she said, drawing in great breaths
of the pine-laden air. "When I come up to the mountains I always wonder why
on earth we ever live anywhere else."

Tony smiled.