a carriage, afterwards you must either ride or walk. Louise chose to walk with me, and our guide went before us with the mules and our traveling bags.
The sun was still burning hot, but the pilgrims who had been praying for rain appeared not to have put up their prayers in vain. Clouds were gathering; thunder was heard, and very soon it began to rain. We toiled wearily onward with our Alpine staves in our hands; but now it grew dark, ever thicker clouds gathered above us and the ground was wet with snow. And the Hospice, the so-much-longed-for Hospice, would not come into sight! At length, however, we beheld a large, regular, gray mass of buildings arise from the gray rocks around it; and seldom has the hospitable herberge been greeted with greater joy. The sympathizing salutation of the monks “Pauvres dames!” sounded to us like delicious music. The latter part of the way we had to walk through deep snow, and were wet through, both by it and the rain. But we changed our clothes, and were then taken into a large room where a good fire rejoiced both soul and body, and were now seated at table with many other travelers, partaking of tea and bread and butter. And as she regaled herself with the oriental nectar, Louise turned her beaming glasses upon me, whispering “c'est bon!”
We then lay down to rest, on very massive beds, under whole avalanches of sheets and feather-beds. About one hundred and fifty persons, mostly poor travelers, were lodged at the Hospice this night.
I was awaked in the morning by the pealing roar of the organ. It was morning mass; at the latter part
