rate that swayed the coach to and fro and threatened
speedy upsetting, screaming and raving like a wild Indian uttering his
battle-cry, our charioteer pursued his headlong course, until brought to
a stop by something that suddenly obstructed his career.

A voice before us shouted out, "We must all go back to San Remo!"

A silence ensued; and then our conductor got down, running forward to
see what was the matter. The three in the _coupe_ saw their alert friend
of the _banquette_ descend; which caused Velvet-cap to bestir himself,
and let down the window. Not obtaining any satisfactory information by
looking out into the darkness and confusion, he opened the door also,
and called to some one to help him forth. Whereupon he found himself in
the arms of the maudlin postilion; who, taking him doubtless for some
foreign lady passenger in great alarm, hugged him affectionately,
stuttering out, "N'ayez pas peur! Point de danger! point de danger!"

"Get off with you, will you?" was the ejaculation from Velvet-cap, as he
pushed away the man, and went in search of his alert friend.

The latter soon came running back to the coach-side, bidding the sisters
get out quickly and come and look at what was well worth seeing.

It was indeed! There lay a gigantic mass of earth, stones, and trees,
among which were several large blocks of solid rock, hurled across the
road, showing a jagged outline against the night-sky, like an
interposing mountain-barrier but just recently dropped in their path.
The whole had fallen not an hour ago; and it was matter of
congratulation to the four, that it had not done so at the very moment
their diligence passed beneath.

There was nothing to be done but what the voice (which proved to be that
of the conductor belonging to the other diligence) had proposed, namely,
to go back to San Remo.

Here the travellers of both diligences soon arrived; the four, as they
passed to their rooms, hearing the British accent on the landing, in
disconsolate appeal to a waiter: "Oh!--look here,--sack, you know, sack,
sack!"

"Oui, monsieur; votre sac de nuit. Il est en bas,--en bas, sur la
diligence. On le montera bientot."

The lady whose spirits rose at night was flitting about, brisk as a bee,
getting morsels of bread and dipping them into wine to revive her
sister; who, worn out with fatigue and exhaustion, sat in a collapsed
and speechless state on a sofa.

Next morning, however, she was herself again, and