Turning back was not to be thought of, so I pushed on into the village. Then the people shouted to me out of the windows that I could go no further, the water was coming down from the mountains too strong, and there was indeed a terrible business going on in the middle of the village. The earth-coloured torrent had swept everything before it. It poured round the corners of houses through the pastures, high above the bridges, and went roaring down to the lake below. Luckily there was a small boat at hand, in which I got myself put over to Neuhaus, though the passage in this sort of open punt in the furious rain was by no means pleasant. My condition when I reached Neuhaus was fairly wretched; I looked as if I had top-boots on. Shoes, stockings, and everything up to the knees were dark brown, then came the real white colour, then a soft blue overcoat; even my sketch-book that I had tucked under my waistcoat was moist. In this fashion I reached Interlaken, and was received with small hospitality; the people either could not or would not find me a room, and so I had to find my way back to Unterseen, where I am now comfortably housed. It was very curious how I had felt pleased all the time at the idea of getting back to my inn at Interlaken, where so many recollections would be waiting me, and when I actually drove on to the square with the walnut-trees, in the little trap I had hired at Neuhaus, and saw my well-remembered glass gallery and met the fair hostess, changed and aged indeed, at the door, really all the bad weather and discomfort I had gone through did not vex me so
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