Alpine work stores in the muscles, we still hoped to reach the Montenvers. Returning from the Requin, we had consumed ten hours in gaining that home of the faithful, of which not more than one hour had been expended in voluntary halts. On this occasion, rather less than four hours sufficed to bring us to that welcome bower, and at 8.50 p.m. four hungry travellers were urging Monsieur Simond to provide a speedy and substantial dinner. Our entreaties, it is needless to say, received most cordial attention and numerous friends joined our party. In the early hours of morning, a warrior, contemplating doughty deeds, broke in on our revels. He had expected to find the dim light of a single dip candle and the dread solitude of a deserted room, but, to his astonishment, he beheld a numerous company, the illumination of many lamps, and the flitting to and fro of ministering angels—I mean waiters. For the moment he was utterly bewildered, and thought he had slept on throughout a whole day and just got up in time for the next table d'hôte. Finally we explained matters by inaccurately pointing out that we were dining in yesterday while he was just going to breakfast in to-morrow.
