vaguely conscious now and then
that a river far below us clamoured for our bones; on one side we had
a precipice, on the other a sheer face of towering cliff.

Gorges, glorious gorges! a plethora of gorges. No sooner were we out
of one, and drawing breath in a valley of golden sunshine and silver
river, but we were back in another majestic canon. Finest of all,
perhaps, was the dark Clou de Rouaine; yet when we sprang out into
daylight to throw ourselves into the village of Les Scaffarels,
wonders did not cease. Now we were in the true hinterland of the gay,
blue-and-gold Riviera, following the course of the Var, down to Nice,
not many miles away. Wide and pebbly in its bed by the bright pleasure
town, here it led us through a succession of more gorges, thundered us
through rock tunnels, swept us over bridges, and at last tumbled us
into sight of a marvel which must throw the whole seven of Dauphine
out of focus. It was the town of Entrevaux, and to my shame I had
never heard of it. Where the narrow valley opens into a broad one, and
the green, swift flowing river sweeps in a sickle-curve round the base
of a high rock, Entrevaux shoots far up into the sky. The river bathes
its dark walls, protected by devices dear to the hearts of mediaeval
Vaubans. Pepper-castor sentry-boxes jut out over the water; a great
drawbridge with portcullis, triple gateway, and neat contrivances for
pouring oil and molten lead upon besiegers, alone gives access to the
town; while behind the old crowded houses a fortified stairway in the
rock leads dizzily up to a stronghold clamped upon a towering peak--a
peak like a black, giant wine-bottle, slender-necked, with the fort
castle for the cork.

"If the Boy could see this with me!" I thought. And then, because this
place was like a fairy place, I remembered the fairy prince's ring.
Never had I followed his instructions; but I rubbed it now, and wished
that the genie of the ring would give me back the Little Pal at Monte
Carlo.

After Entrevaux, picturesque Puget-Theniers was an anticlimax; though
other fairy towns peered down from high crags and sheer hillsides
where they hung by wires caught in spider webs--and though we passed
through other gorges of grim beauty, my thoughts had flown ahead of
our swift car. I was glad when at last we came into sight of a fair
white city lying on the blue curve of a bay and ringed with green
hills, glad that our journey was all but ended; for the fair city