LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2317, 7 September 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

THE STRANGEST JOURNEY OF MY LIFE. [From “London Society,.’] (Concluded ) Ho Uttle thought how literally I intended the .words to come true. Then the ladies made a graceful inoUnation, and I was left meditating that many a true word was epokeu in jest, and quite resolved that the recurring decimal should recur at the first opportunity. In tne meantime Erskine had made rapid progress with his own immediate neighbors, ao much so that he handed them bis card, which was received with great empressement. The lady who sat next to him wore a wonderful lot of diamonds, so much so that she seemed a kind of chandelier revolving on her own axis. It was great fnn to hear her call Erskine ‘my lord, and offer him a seat in her box at the Opera House. Erskine introduced us, and as the lady had no one with her but another lady who was her companion, there was room for me also in a shady retreat behind the front row.

Two or three other people who had heard Erskine saluted as ‘your lordship,’ indicated signs of that reverence and admiration which so many Britishers rejoice in conceding to the peerage. I rather felt that I was getting hold of a good thing by false pretences ; but I thought that I might have a good chance of reconnoitring our friend at the Opera Honse. 1 was not disappointed. There was no need of a lorgnette, for our box was very near that occupied by our friends. As we strolled in the magnificent foyer we had an opportunity of discussing the glories of the house and the gorgeous Egyptian scenery of the opera.

Lord George made great way with his diamonded widow, whose jewellery certainly suggested the idea of great solvency. I suggested to him that he had belter have tilings put on the square, and give no sanction to the absurd idea that he belonged to the peerage. This he promised to do, bnt resolved to take Ms own time about it. What was more to the purpose, wa were able to ascertain something of the movements of the Bui* strodes, and before very long we had our order of march made out for us. The information which we received was tolerably exact. We got on to Bordeaux; rejoiced in the unrivalled water frontage of this ancient city; descended into mighty cavernous depths amid myriad casks of -wine ; went on to Bayonne, saw the old and now cathedrals, revived our souvenirs of Wellington and his peninsular army j went on to Biarritz, took some of the breezy drives along the cliffs and through the uplands, and got as far as the Spanish frontier; bathed iu tiie sea beneath the Empress Eugenie’s deserted villa.

Then Erakino informed me one morning, * from information which he had received, to nao the policeman's phrase, that we mnat take the train from Bayonne to Pan, where wo would have to settle whether we would take the rail further or go at once up into the mountains.

There 1s no English population at Fan in the snmmor. But few travellers can pass it by without seeing the marvellous view from the terrace and visiting the apartments of the grand historic chateau. Some make it a halting place before they go up into the mountains to Eanx Bonnes and Eaux Chandop, and to many a lateral valley of the mountain chain.

At Pan we caught sight of the party sitting La front of one of the big fortress-like hotels, listening to music, sipping iced lemonade, and enjoying what Lord Macamay incorrectly calls ‘ the long waving line of the bine Pyrenees.’ The Pyrenees form not a waving line, bat a serrated line. We had a pleasant talk for a few minutes. Though orthodox Protestants, they were going on a pilgrimage to the shr'ne of our Lady of Lourdes. There were a great lot of pilgrims going to Lourdes, Pilgrims have made considerable advances in their modes of pilgrimage. Once they walked with hard peas in their boots ; then an ingenious pilgrim hit upon the plan of boiling the peas. Now they travel in first-class railway carriages, with plenty of wraps and abundant refreshments at the railway stations. Erskino, as usual, was carefully on hia guard. This was much to hia credit, as Mrs Thompson of the Hotel Continental was on her way to London, and, by a perversity of fortune, we saw more of her than of Cecilia Manning and her friends. ‘ Bravo, my boy!’ ho said ; * they are going to Fierrefitte, and that’s a terminus ; and you will certainly be able to rnn them to earth, especially if they go to auterets. ’ And I thought of Tennyson’s lines written at. Caaterets — * All along the valley three-and-thirty years ago.’ But instead of going up the valley to Caaterets, they took the side of the other' stream and went to Lnz A fresh anxiety arose at Lnz. Would they turn to the right and go to St. Sauvenr, or would they turn to the left to Bareges, and thence to Blgorre, where they would onoe more find the railway, and might now be irrecoverably lost to our ken ? Or would they go straight on, straight to G-avamle, where, strategically speaking, we should have them in a cul de sac ? _ There arose the white circling walla of cliffs and glaciers, beyond which, nnless they were altogether abnormal climbers, there was hardly any chance they would penetrate ; where there was the solitary hostel, and the wide loneliness of the broken valley of the Cascade.

They went to St. Sauveur, and we followed. We saw that exquisite bridge with which the Third Napoleon spanned the stream, and the church which he built for the town. The Republic has spared the inscription on the bridge, and I should think that there would be very few Republicans at St. Sauveur. But we met the Bulstrode party returning to Luz, and I could not help blushing deeply as I took off my hat in return to their courteous recognition. We watched them from our hotel window at Luz. They had taken a carriage to go up the valley of the Gave of Gavarnie ; and the curious point was whether they were only going for the day as excursionists, or had written to secure rooms. Erskine reported that they carried luggage, which indicated that they were going to stay for a day or two, which would be short time enough. We joyfully saw the carriage start, and then prepared ourselves for a brisk four hours’ walk to Gavarnie. We were safe to run them down. We must find them as soon os the carriage road came to an end amid the mountains.

Of all the walks in the Pyrenees commend mo to the one from Luz to Gavarnie. It Is a mmt magnificent defile to the most glorious bit of scenery in the Pyrenees. Up, up we went through the rooky path cut in the mountain’s side, the dark-green river raving along In Its abyssmal fissure, now through deep woods, now crossing the trembling wooden bridge, now passing by gigantic blocks and boulders, and now getting a glance of that famous gap In the mountain wall known as the legendary Breohe de Roland. When we had got to Gedre, the one little inn on the line of road, we found that our friends had just had lunch and had gone on. We persevered with our walk and reached Gavarnie ; and still hesitating and uncertain, we went to the river meadows, to the banks of the stream, and looked on the glaciers, on the eternal snows, and that waterfall which is the highest in Europe, Then I came near the little inn, which then to me appeared to be nothing else than the jewel oase which held the jewel of tho world. And there, on a bench before the door, smoking the fragrant weed, was the burly form of General Buistrode.

‘ Well, upon my soul,’ said the General; ‘this is moat extraordinary! You really have turned up again, Mr—Sir—Mr—-’ ‘Fiennes,’ I suggested, giving him my name.

‘ I was about to say, Mr Fiennes, that the amount of coincidences in this poor limited planet is most extraordinary. If I did not know perfectly well to the contrary, I should say that either you were tanning after me or that I was running after you. ’ I assured the General, and that most conscientionsly, that I certainly was not running after him. ‘ Fiennes, Fiennes !’ he exclaimed. ‘ Was your father any relation to old Jack Fiennes, who was the collector at Fyzabad V ‘ Tne only relationship was this—my late father was the collector at Fyzabad.’ ‘Of course, of course I From tho very first I. knew there was something in your face which I recognised and liked. Why, my boy, tor four or five years your father and I were as thick as brothers. ’ And here the General shook hands with me vigorously and repeatedly. Emboldened by this kindness. I confessed to the General that we were not the mere combination of atoms which he had supposed, but that I had fallen in love with his stepdaughter, and had wandered over a whole section of Europe in pursuit of her. ‘ All the way from the Lizard to Luz .’ ‘Even so, s'r.’ * What a fuss about a trifle I ’ said the General. ‘Why, my lad, yon are just the man to suit her. If you have not got much money, she has got a good bit of her own. Bnt I expect my old friend, the Collector of Fyzabad, was worth a plum.’ I acknowledged that I had no reason to complain. ‘ Well my boy, try your chance with my bast wishes. She is a very nice girl; bnt I shall be very happy to give the responsibility into another’s keeping. Besides, a woman’s not half a woman until she has her husband and babies.’ Under such favorable auspices I was allowed to renew my acquaintance with Cecilia Manning. The old General, whom 1 had chiefly dreaded, proved the kindest and moat serviceable of allies. The plan of their remaining campaign was fully disclosed by him to me. They were going on to Luchon, and I was to be permitted to accompany them. In the leafy arcades of Luchon I told my tale, and pleaded my cause. Cecilia laughed at my folly, as she called it, about the photograph ; she was not ill pleased with the story of my persistent pursuit, and she gave me tho original, for which alone I wonld exchange the portrait. As for my noble and right honourable friend, he succeeded in fascinating the widow, whose diamonds had ao successfully fascinated him in the first place. I believe she was terribly disappointed that * Lord George,’ in the conventional sense, was no ‘ lord ' at all. But he had not intentionally deceived her. He was in birth and breeding a gentleman, and above all she was very fond of him. 1 threw all the weight of my attacheshlp— and with the widow it had great weight—on to the favorable side; and I ventured to think that if they continued abroad they might yet obtain some sort of title. I predict that they will yet burst upon an astonished world as a real live Baron and Baroness. For myself, 1 often tell my wife that we had our honeymoon travels before the marriage, bnt however that may be we neither of ns regret that the sweet time of wooing was spent amid the solemnities of the ocean and the mountains.