"Out of Thun" Page #2

"Out of Thun" by Robert Barr is a compelling adventure novel that weaves together elements of mystery and exploration. The story follows a protagonist who embarks on a journey that takes him through breathtaking landscapes and introduces him to a diverse cast of characters. As he navigates challenges and uncovers hidden secrets, themes of courage, friendship, and the complexity of human nature unfold. Barr's vivid storytelling and rich descriptions immerse readers in a captivating narrative that celebrates both the beauty of the world and the depth of personal discovery.

• Short story

								

to the proprietor that they had abandoned their intention of proceeding
further with their Swiss tour, so satisfied were they with Thun and all
its belongings. Thus did the flattering opinion of Alexander von
Humboldt seem about to become general, to the great delight of the
hotel proprietor, when, without warning, these young men had gloomily
deserted Thun, while its beauty undoubtedly remained unchanged.
Naturally the good man who owned the hotel was bewildered, and began to
think that, after all, the English were an uncertain, mind-changing
race.

Among the guests there was one young fellow who was quite as much
perplexed as the proprietor. Archie Severance was one of the last to
fall under the spell of Bessie--if, indeed, it is correct to speak of
Archie falling at all. He was a very deliberate young man, not given to
doing anything precipitately, but there is no doubt that the charming
personality of Bessie fascinated him, although he seemed to content
himself with admiring her from a distance. Bessie somehow did not
appear to care about being admired from a distance, and once, when
Archie was promenading to and fro on the terrace above the river, she
smiled sweetly at him from her book, and he sat down beside her. Jimmy
Wellman had gone that morning, and the rest had not yet found it out.
Jimmy had so completely monopolised Miss Durand for the last few days
that no one else had had a chance, but now that he had departed, Bessie
sat alone on the terrace, which was a most unusual state of things.

"They tell me," said Bessie, in her most flattering manner, "that you
are a famous climber, and that you have been to the top of the
Matterhorn."

"Oh, not famous; far from it," said Archie modestly. "I have been up
the Matterhorn three or four times; but then women and children make
the ascent nowadays, so that is nothing unusual."

"I am sure you must have had some thrilling escapes," continued Bessie,
looking with admiration at Archie's stalwart frame. "Mr. Wellman had an
awful experience----"

"Yesterday?" interrupted Archie. "I hear he left early this morning."

"No, not yesterday," said Miss Durand coldly, drawing herself up with
some indignation; but as she glanced sideways at Mr. Severance, that
young man seemed so innocent that she thought perhaps he meant nothing
in particular by his remark. So, after a slight pause, Bessie went on
again. "It was a week ago. He was climbing the Stockhorn and all at
once the clouds surrounded him."

"And what did Jimmy do? Waited till the clouds rolled by, I suppose."

"Now, Mr. Severance, if you are going to laugh at me, I shall not talk
to you any more."

"I assure you, Miss Durand, I was not laughing at you. I was laughing
at Jimmy. I never regarded the Stockhorn as a formidable peak. It is
something like 7,195 feet high, I believe, not to mention the inches."

"But surely, Mr. Severance, you know very well that the danger of a
mountain does not necessarily bear any proportion to its altitude
above the sea."

"That is very true. I am sure that Jimmy himself, with his head in the
clouds, has braved greater dangers at much lower levels than the top of
the Stockhorn."

Again Miss Durand looked searchingly at the young man beside her, but
again Archie was gazing dreamily at the curious bell-shaped summit of
the mountain under discussion. The Stockhorn stands out nobly, head and
shoulders above its fellows, when viewed from the hotel terrace at
Thun.

There was silence for a few moments between the two, and Bessie said to
herself that she did not at all like this exceedingly self-possessed
young man, who seemed to look at the mountains in preference to gazing
at her--which was against the natural order of things. It was evident
that Mr. Severance needed to be taught a lesson, and Bessie, who had a
good deal of justifiable confidence in her own powers as a teacher,
resolved to give him the necessary instruction. Perhaps, when he had
acquired a little more experience, he would not speak so contemptuously
of "Jimmy," or any of the rest. Besides, it is always a generous action
towards the rest of humanity to reduce the inordinate self-esteem of
any one young man to something like reasonable proportions. So Bessie,
instead of showing that she was offended by his flippant conversation
and his lack of devotion to her, put on her most bewitching manner, and
smiled the smile that so many before her latest victim had found
impossible to resist. She would make him talk of himself and his
exploits. They all succumbed to this treatment.

"I do so love to hear of narrow escapes," said Bessie confidingly. "I
think it is so inspiring to hear of human courage and endurance being
pitted against the dangers of the Alps, and coming out victorious."

"Yes, they usually come out victorious, according to the accounts that
reach us; but then, you know, we never get the mountain's side of the
story."

"But surely, Mr. Severance," appealed Bessie, "you do not imagine that
a real climber would exaggerate when telling of what he had done."

"No; oh no. I would not go so far as to say that he would exaggerate
exactly, but I have known cases where--well--a sort of Alpine glow came
over a story that, I must confess, improved it very much. Then, again,
curious mental transformations take place which have the effect of
making a man, what the vulgar term, a liar. Some years ago a friend of
mine came over here to do a few ascents, but he found sitting on the
hotel piazza so much more to his taste that he sat there. I think
myself the verandah climber is the most sensible man of the lot of us;
and, if he has a good imagination, there is no reason why he should be
distanced by those you call real climbers, when it comes to telling
stories of adventures. Well, this man, who is a most truthful person,
took one false step. You know, some amateurs have a vile habit of
getting the names of various peaks branded on their alpenstocks--just
as if any real climber ever used an alpenstock."

"Why, what do they use?" asked Bessie, much interested.

"Ice-axes, of course. Now, there is a useful individual in Interlaken,
who is what you might call a wholesale brander. He has the names of all
the peaks done in iron at his shop, and if you take your alpenstock to
him, he will, for a few francs, brand on it all the names it will hold,
from the Ortler to Mont Blanc. My friend was weak enough to have all
the ascents he had intended to make, branded on the alpenstock he
bought the moment he entered Switzerland. They always buy an alpenstock
the first thing. He never had the time to return to the mountains, but
gradually he came to believe that he had made all the ascents recorded
by fire and iron on his pole. He is a truthful man on every other topic
								Rate this book:0.0 / 0 votes