too _triste_ even for a
night. At St. Pierre there is at least a little life. And the hotel
'Au Dejeuner de Napoleon,' I think it will amuse Monsieur."

"That is an odd name for a hotel," said I.

"You see, Monsieur, it was made famous because of the _dejeuner_ which
Napoleon took there on his march with his army of 30,000 across the
Pass in the month of May, 1800, and that is the reason of the name.
The madame who has the house now, is a grand-daughter of the innkeeper
of that day; and she will show you the room where Napoleon
breakfasted, with all the furniture just as it was then, and on the
wall the portraits of her grand-parents, who waited on the great man."

"At all events, we will rest and have something to eat there," I said.
"Then, if it be not too late, we might push on further. I like the
idea of the lonely Cantine de Proz."

My opinion of the Pass was changing for the better, before we reached
the straggling town of stony pavements, which could not have a more
appropriate patron than St. Pierre. True, our road was always narrow,
and poorly kept for a great mountain highway; so far, none of the
magnificent engineering which impressed one on the Simplon. But here
and there dazzling white peaks glistened like frozen tidal waves
against the blue, and the Dranse had a particular charm of its own.
Joseph said little when I patronised the Pass with a few grudging
words of commendation. He had the secretive smile of a man who hides
something up his sleeve.

It was five o'clock when we arrived at Bourg St. Pierre, and having
climbed a dark and hilly street, closely shut in with houses which age
had not made beautiful, Joseph pointed out a neat, white inn, standing
at the left of the road.

"That is the 'Dejeuner de Napoleon,'" said he, "and near by are some
Roman remains which will interest Monsieur if----"

"By Jove, two donkeys!" I broke in, heedless of antiquities, in my
surprise at seeing two of those animals which experience had taught me
to look upon as more rare than Joseph's "seldom plant." "Two donkeys
in front of the inn. Where on earth can they have sprung from? I would
have given a good deal for that sight a few days ago, but now"--and I
glanced at the dignified Finois--"I can regard them simply with
curiosity."

"I have been over this Pass more than twenty times," said Joseph (who
was a native of Chamounix, I had learned), "yet rarely have I met with
_anes_. And see, Monsieur, the woman who is