ing,
Yet cheery all round with his friends and his foes;
Content through a life-story short, yet soul-stirring
And happy, as doubtless he'd deem, in its close."

Thus _Punch_, as it often does, voiced the sentiments of the nation
on learning the death of its hero.

CHAPTER II.

A NIGHT ON A MOUNTAIN

There are not many English abroad this morning on the top of
the hill. In fact, unless they had passed the night here it
would not be easy for them to present themselves, seeing that
San Salvatore, though a very modest mound, standing as it does
in the neighbourhood of the Alps, is high enough to lift its
crest out of the curtain of mist that lies over the lower world.
Lugano, its lake, and its many small towns--as like each other
when seen from a distance as if they had been turned out of a
mould--are understood to lie at some uncertain depth beneath
the mist. In truth, unless they have wholly disappeared in the
night, we know that they are there, for we walked up in the
late afternoon with intent to sleep here.

The people of Lugano, more especially the hotel-keepers, were much
exercised at this undertaking. Nobody in recent recollection had been
known to spend the night on San Salvatore, and if the eccentricity
were permitted and proved enjoyable, no one could say that it might
not spread, leaving empty beds at Lugano. There was, accordingly,
much stress laid on possible dangers and certain discomforts.
Peradventure there was no bed; assuredly it would be hard and damp
and dirty. There would be nothing to eat, nor even to drink; and
in short, if ever there was madness characteristic of the English
abroad, here was the mid March of its season.

But the undertaking was not nearly so mad as it looked. I had been
up Salvatore on the previous day and surveyed the land. It is a
place that still holds high rank in the Romish calendar of Church
celebrations. Many years ago a chapel was built on its summit, and
pilgrimages instituted. These take place at Ascension and Pentecost,
when the hillside swarms with devout sons and daughters of Italy, and
the music of high mass breaks the silence of the mountains. Even
pilgrims must eat and drink and sleep, and shortly after the chapel
was built there rose up at its feet, in a sheltered nook, a little
house, a chapel-of-ease in the sense that here was sold wine of the
country, cheese of the district, and _jambon_ reputed to come across
the seas from distant "Yorck." A