I suppose they must have heard the row below, for when we looked down we saw a regular crowd of fellows in the square underneath looking up our way. After that we thought we might as well shut up, and were just going to cut down, when a fellow belonging to the place, who had been somewhere on the top, came rushing round the parapet, flourishing a stick and yelling like a trooper in awfully bad French. We had a good start of him, especially as we shut the door at the top of the stairs behind us. Besides he was fat; so we easily pulled it off.

There was an old woman at the bottom who kept the ticket place. She twigged _it_ was a bolt, and tried to stop us; but she couldn't _get_ out of her box. So we strolled out easily and cabbed it back to the inn. It was an awful game to see the crowd still staring up at the tower as we drove off. The fat fellow got down just as we were turning the corner. I don't think he guessed we were cabbing it. Anyhow, we didn't see any one chasing the cab. Jim said we were rather well out of it; and we settled we might as well drive on to the swimming baths and stay there for an hour or so till things had quieted down, and then go on to Switzerland by the evening train, especially, Jim said, as the pater might not like to get his name mixed up in a French row.

Beastly uncomfortable carriages on the Swiss railway from Paris. There was the same humbug about the luggage at a little station in the middle of the night, but we were too f.a.gged to cut up rough. We were jolly glad to get here at last, I can tell you.

I must shut up now, as I've got to write to pater. It's a regular go.

We forgot he'd be sending the money to Paris, and now we've only got about half-a-sov. between us! Remember me to your young sister.

Yours truly, T. Hooker.

Montreux, _August_ 10.

Dear Father,--We didn't see the Luxembourg, as a fellow directed us to the wrong place. We had several bathes in the Seine. Jim got on very well with his French, and I think we are both improved. We should be glad of some more money, as we are nearly out. I bought a present for you in Paris, which I think you will like when you see it. If you could send the money here by return it would do. I suppose what you sent to Paris missed us, as we came here a day sooner than we expected.

We went up Notre Dame the last day we were in Paris. There is a fine view from the top. It is surprising how few of the French you meet in the swimming baths. We had the place to ourselves one day. It's eight feet at the deep end. Jim and I both think foreign travel is good for a fellow, and we shall hope to have a reply to this by return.

Your loving son, Tom.

Montreux, _August_ 11.

Dear Gus,--We're regularly stuck up, as the money hasn't come yet. I hope it will come soon, or the old girl at the inn here will think we're cadgers. We had a stunning row on the lake yesterday; the boats are only a bob an hour, so we thought we might go in for it. We raced a steamer for about half a mile, and weren't done then, only Jim's oar came off the pin (they haven't such things as row-locks here), and that upset us.

Of course it didn't matter, as we could swim; but the fellows in the steamer kicked up an awful shine about it, and came and hauled us up, boat and all. It was rather awkward, as we had nothing to tip them with. We got out at a dismal sort of place called Chillon. We told the captain if he was ever in London the pater would be glad to see him.

We had a grind getting back here with the boat, as it came on dark and misty, and we couldn't see where Montreux had got to. Jim got rather chawed up too by the cold, so I sculled. The wind was against us, and it was rather a hard pull, especially when you couldn't see the land at all. I managed to keep pretty warm with rowing, but old Jim's teeth chattered like a steam-engine. It came on a regular squall, and I didn't see the fun of sculling after about a couple of hours. So Jim and I huddled up to keep warm, and let her drift. We were jolly glad to see a light after a bit, and yelled to let them know where we were.

They didn't hear, though, so we just stuck on and chanced it. The old tub drifted ash.o.r.e all right, side on, though she upset just as we got to land. It was lucky the water was shallow, as we were too cold to swim. As it was, old Jim nearly came to grief. It was no end of a job hauling in the boat. She was rather knocked about. We had drifted back to Chillon, exactly where we started from.

The keeper of the castle put us up for the night and was no end of a brick. There was rather a row with the boat fellow when we got back to Montreux. He got crusty about the boat being damaged, and wanted about two sovs! As it happened, we hadn't got anything, as we gave the fellow at the castle five francs, and that cleared us out. We told the boat fellow to call at the inn to-morrow, and I hope to goodness the money will have turned up, as it's a bit awkward. Jim has a cold.

Yours truly T. Hooker.

Please remember me to your young sister.

Montreux, _August_ 13.

Dear Father,--Thanks awfully for the money; it was jolly to get it, and mother's letter. It is very hilly about here. Jim's cold is getting better. Would you mind telegraphing to us who is the winner of the Australian cricket match to-morrow, and how many Grace scored? In haste, Your loving son, Tom.

Riffel Hotel, _August_ 18.

Dear Gus,--We're awfully high up here--awful rum little inn it is. It was chock full, and Jim and I have to sleep under the table. There are about a dozen other fellows who have to camp out too, so it's a rare spree.

We're going to have a shot at the Matterhorn to-morrow if it's fine. It looks easy enough, and Jim and I were making out the path with a telescope this afternoon. It's rather a crow to do the Matterhorn.

Some m.u.f.fs take guides up, but they cost four or five pounds, so we're going without.

That boat fellow at Montreux got to be a regular nuisance. In fact, that's why we came on here a day earlier. He came up twice a day to the inn, and we couldn't shake him off. We gave him a sov., which was twice what he had a right to. He swore he'd have two pounds or bring up a policeman with him next time. So we thought the best way was to clear out by the early train next morning, and I guess he was jolly blue when he found us gone. I send with this a faint sketch of some of the natives! What do you say to their rig?

It was a pretty good grind up to Zermatt, and we walked it up the valley. There wasn't much to see on the way, and it's a frightfully stony road. There were some fellows playing lawn-tennis at the hotel at Zermatt. One of them wasn't half bad. His serves twisted to the leg and were awfully hard to get up. Jim and I wouldn't have minded a game, only the fellows seemed to think no one wanted to play but themselves.

We may get a game to-morrow on our way to the Matterhorn. It was a tremendous f.a.g getting up here from Zermatt. I don't know why fellows all come on, as there's no tennis court or anything up here.

There's an ice-field up here called a glacier, but it's an awful fraud if you want skating--rough as one of Bullford's fields at Rugby. A fellow told me it bears all the year round, but it's got a lot of holes, so we don't think we'll try it. I expect we shall be home next week, as the pater thinks we've run through our money rather too fast. Remember me to your people and your young sister.

Yours truly, T. Hooker.

Zermatt, _August_ 20.

Dear Gus,--We didn't do the Matterhorn after all, as Jim screwed his foot. He's awfully unlucky, and if it hadn't been for the accident we might have got to the top; and of course it stops tennis too. We did get one game before we started up. Jim gave me fifteen in two games each set. I pulled off the first, but he whacked me the other two.

It's a beastly rough court, though, and the mountain was awfully in the light.

We hadn't much difficulty finding the way to the Matterhorn, as there was a sign-post at the end of the village. We thought we might as well take the easy side, as the front of the hill is pretty stiff. Of course we had to take a good long round, which was a nuisance, as we meant to be back for _table d'hote_ at seven. When we got properly on to the side we put it on, but it was a good long grind, I can tell you. We weren't sorry to get up to a snow slope and cool ourselves.

They ought to sweep a path across the snow, or fellows are very likely to lose their way. We lost ours, but we had a good lark on the snow s...o...b..lling. It got deep in one part, so we had to clamber up the rocks at the side to get to the top of the slope. It's rather deceptive, distance, on the snow, for it took us an hour to do what seemed only a few yards. We got on to a flat bit after awhile, and had another turn on the snow.

It was rather a game rolling things down the slope. They went at an awful pace. The nuisance is the snow has a way of slipping from under you, and that's how Jim and I came to grief. We were sitting on the edge of the slope watching a boulder slide, when we began to slide ourselves. We hadn't our spikes on, or we might have pulled up. As it was, we got up no end of a speed down that slope. It was no joke. I yelled to Jim to lie flat, and not sit up, or he might pitch on his head. I don't remember how we got on after that; I must have b.u.mped my head, for when I pulled myself together I found I was sitting in the middle of a gra.s.s field with a jolly headache, and pretty well black and blue.

I was able to get up though, and looked about for old Jim. I can tell you it was no joke. I couldn't see him anywhere, and thought he must have been buried in the snow. I can tell you, old man, it was rough on me for a quarter of an hour or so. But I found him at last, about a quarter of a mile down the field. He rolled, he said; he couldn't get up, as his foot was screwed. So it was a pretty go, as I couldn't carry him. If I hadn't been quite so knocked about I might have tried; but Jim's a good nine stone, so I might have dropped him. Luckily, some fellows came--they'd come to look for us, in fact, as we'd told the waiter we were going up the Matterhorn, and might not be back in time for dinner; and when we didn't turn up, they guessed, I suppose, we might have come to grief. It was a good job they came, as Jim's foot was rather bad. All the hotel turned out to see us get back. I had to be carried too, the last bit of the way, as I got f.a.gged. It's a sell we couldn't get to the top, as it's rather a crow to do the Matterhorn.

Jim's foot is better to-day, but he'll have to shut off tennis the rest of this season. I wish mother was here. She could look after Jim better than I can. In fact, the doctor here, rather a jolly fellow, says she and the pater had better come at once. I got him to write to the pater himself, as I was afraid it might make them think something was wrong if I did.

Please to remember me to your young sister.

T. Hooker.

Zermatt, _August_ 22.

Dear Gus,--There's a telegram from the pater to say they'll be here to- morrow night. I'm rather glad, as Jim is feverish. The pater will have a good deal of tipping to do, as everybody here's no end civil. Can't write more, as I'm f.a.gged. Remember me to your young sister.

T.H.

P.S.--I fancy we shall spend next summer in England--Jim and I. We don't either of us think much of Switzerland.

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

BILK'S FORTUNE--A GHOST STORY.

CHAPTER I. SUPERSt.i.tION.

We had a fellow at Holmhurst School who rejoiced in the name of Alexander Magnus Bilk. But, as sometimes happens, our Alexander the Great did not in all respects resemble the hero to whom he was indebted for his name. Alexander the Great, so the school-books say, was small in stature and mighty in mind. Bilk was small in mind and lanky in stature. They called him "Lamp-post" as a pet name, and as regarded his height, his girth, and the lightness of his head, the term conveyed a very fair idea of our hero's chief characteristics. In short, Bilk had very few brains, and such as he had he occupied by no means to the best advantage. He read trashy novels, and believed every word of them, and, like poor Don Quixote of old, he let any one who liked make a fool of him, if he only took the trouble to get at his weak side.

I need hardly say the fellows at Holmhurst were not long in discovering that weak side and getting plenty of fun out of Alexander Magnus. He could be gammoned to almost any extent, so much so that after a term or two his persecutors had run through all the tricks they knew, and the unhappy youth was let alone for sheer want of an idea.

But one winter, when things seemed at their worst, and it really appeared likely that Bilk would have to be given up as a bad job, his tormentors suddenly conceived an idea, and proceeded to put it into practice in the manner I am about to relate in this most veracious history.

The neighbourhood of Holmhurst had for some weeks past been honoured by the presence of a gang of gipsies, who during the period of their sojourn had rendered themselves conspicuous by their diligence in their triple business of chair-mending, fowl-house robbing, and fortune- telling. In the last of these three departments they perhaps succeeded best in winning the confidence of their temporary neighbours, and the private seances they held with housemaids, tradesmen's boys, and schoolgirls had been particularly gratifying both as to attendance and pecuniary result.

It had at length been deemed to be for the general welfare that these interesting itinerants should seek a change of air in "fresh fields and pastures new," and the police had accordingly hinted as much to the authorities of the camp, and given them two hours to pack up.