sunset during this early part of
the year, and invalids were all obliged to gain the shelter of their
dwellings by about four p.m. These cold, biting winds generally blew
from north or east, the main streets being like drafty narrow gorges.

We had one exceedingly pretty walk up the valley to the right of our
hotel. The river, now almost dry, flowing silently along on one side; on
the other, hills and orange groves, and a little church or monastery
perched among the trees in the far distance--it resembled a Swiss
mountain valley. It was a very romantic road, and I incidentally
remarked to my wife that it was just the kind of place where, a few
years ago, we might have heard a shrill whistle from the hills, then an
answering echo, and by-and-by a band of brigands suddenly swooping down
upon us to carry us off to their lair upon the mountains. This was quite
enough to make her nervous, and, despite my pacifying assurances that
in these days of enlightened progress no such thrilling adventure would
be likely to befall us, she begged that we might return at once; and, as
our walk had already been a somewhat extended one into the still
recesses of the mountain valley, I thought it just as well to follow her
prudent advice and retrace our steps. For although I laughed at my
wife's fears, they were really not so utterly without foundation as
might at first appear, for we had recently heard of a most daring case
of brigandage in the neighbourhood. As I have before remarked, there are
a great many very questionable characters loitering between Nice and
Genoa.

Two ladies at an hotel here met with a small adventure that might have
ended in something more serious but for one fortunate circumstance. They
were a mother and daughter, staying at Nice about the same time as
ourselves, and related that having started one fine afternoon to walk to
Villafranca, on getting out of sight of all signs of habitation, they
were much alarmed to find they were being followed by two ill-looking
Italians. The men passed them, and disappeared round the promontory
which shuts Nice out of sight, and forms one side of the natural harbour
of Villafranca. The ladies, wishing to give them a wide berth, walked
very slowly, hoping to be left far in their wake; but soon after, on
reaching a particularly dull part of the road, they came on the men
again, who were evidently waiting for them. Still hoping they might be
mistaken, the two ladies stopped likewis