gh takes my breath away."

The urchin broke into a laugh here at the memory of the Captain's
efforts to master what he styled a furrin' tongue, but Susan checked him
by saying slily, "How could you know, Gillie, if the Captain was _alone_
with Antoine?"

"Oh, don't you know," replied Gillie, trying to recover his gravity,
"the Cappen he's wery fond o' me, and I like to gratify his feelin's by
keepin' near him. Sometimes I keep so near--under the shadow of his
huge calf d'ee see--that he don't observe me on lookin' round; an',
thinkin' he's all alone, lets fly his French broadsides in a way that
a'most sends Antoine on his beam-ends. But Antoine is tough, he is. He
gin'rally says, `I not un'r'stan' English ver' well,' shakes his head
an' grins, but the Cappen never listens to his answers, bein' too busy
loadin' and primin' for another broadside."

The man to whom he referred cut short the conversation at this point by
shouting down the stair:--

"Hallo! Gillie, you powder-monkey, where are my shoes?"

"Here they are, Cappen, all ready; fit to do dooty as a lookin'-glass to
shave yerself," cried the "powder-monkey," leaping up and leaving the
room abruptly.

Gillie's opinion in regard to the madness of Lewis was shared by several
of his friends above stairs. Doctor Lawrence, especially, felt much
anxiety about him, having overheard one or two conversations held by the
guides on the subject of the young Englishman's recklessness.

"Really, Lewis," said the Doctor, on one occasion, "you _must_ listen to
a lecture from me, because you are in a measure under my charge."

"I'm all attention, sir," said Lewis meekly, as he sat down on the edge
of his bed and folded his hands in his lap.

"Well then, to begin," said the Doctor, with a half-serious smile, "I
won't trouble you with my own opinion, to which you attach no weight--"

"Pardon me, Lawrence, I attach great weight to it--or, rather, it has so
much weight that I can scarcely bear it."

"Just so, and therefore you shan't have it. But you must admit that the
opinion of a good guide is worth something. Now, I heard Antoine
Grennon the other day laying down some unquestionable principles to the
Professor--"

"What! lecturing the Professor?" interrupted Lewis, "how very
presumptuous."

"He said," continued the Doctor, "that the dangers connected with the
ascent of these Swiss mountains are _real_, and, unless properly
provided against, may become terribl