me-not and other flowers, and, enjoying the pleasanter walking over the turf, we rapidly descended to the little Auberge de Mont Jumont, where we arrived at one o'clock. We found our fellowtravellers concluding their dinner, preparatory to starting for a walk on to Tournanche, in order to reach Châtillon that evening, undeterred by the warning they received of the probable difficulty of obtaining mules, upon which they depended. We in the meantime found good food, clean rooms, and great civility in this restingplace, which removes the only impediment to a lady's enjoyment of this most beautiful pass. In the evening a party of young men came in from Châtillon, intending to cross the col the next morning, and we were amused at their notion of getting breakfast and anything they wanted at the Pavillon' on the summit. The origin of such misplaced expectations was however explained the next morning, when we heard that their guide was the son of the old man 'en haut,' who had largely magnified the paternal powers of entertainment. "After a good night's rest we found Alexandre had secured two mules to take us down the valley: one had come up from Châtillon in consequence of a message we had sent the day before; the other was a return,' and the owner was therefore glad to be hired. As no lady's saddle was procurable in the valley, a seat had to be improvised for me, by tying sacks of hay upon the wooden framework used for ordinary loads; and, although the appearance was uninviting, the scat was really tolerably comfortable when attained! I was elevated on a kind of sofa, with my feet resting in cord stirrups on either side of the mule's neck, and a red checked cloth having been thrown over the structure, the effect altogether must have been very picturesque. I did not, however, try it for some time, as we all preferred walking down the valley till after we had passed a fine waterfall, and a very remarkable defile where the river forces its way out of sight beneath the rocks. It is a savage-looking spot, and a fit locality for fierce encounters between the douaniers and smugglers, which Alexandre recounted. We saw only a solitary douanier, seated on the grass, who did not look very formidable. A steep descent leads into the Val Tournanche, which opens in great beauty. The morning was particularly pleasant for our journey, for there was sufficient cloud to shelter us from the sun; indeed the Mont Cervin never emerged from mist and vapour, and it would to-day have been difficult and even dangerous to cross the pass, which we saw yesterday in such perfection. "At Tournanche the only accommodation is a miserable 'caserne,' which nothing but dire necessity would induce one to enter. This is the frontier station of Piedmont, and passports are viséd at the cost of 3 f. apiece. The valley hence is very beautiful, varied by picturesque villages, the unusual colouring of the rocks giving a peculiar character to the scenery. We halted once at a wayside inn, where we amused the people by preparing a basin of excellent portable soup, which was very acceptable, as our breakfast had been most moderately provided. Our son then accompanied Alexandre on foot by a shorter cut than the mule-path, turning off just where, high up on the opposite side of the valley, the remains of a Roman aqueduct are visible. The last hour as you approach Châtillon is very beautiful, the road winding through groves of chestnut and walnut trees, with the picturesque town and lovely valley beyond. When we reached our journey's end, we found the pedestrians looking down from the gallery of the Hôtel du Palais Royal, with our fellow-traveller of the previous day, who had come on from Breuil with his wife and servant, arriving at half-past ten at night, after various accidents and much discomfort. They had required the whole morning to rest, and had therefore gained nothing but painful experience by their long journey, and had lost all the beauty of the valley and the approach to Châtillon. We slept here, but it is decidedly preferable to proceed to St. Vincent, if you can send on previously to secure rooms, which otherwise it is difficult to obtain during the season for the baths." It was a Sept. 20.-We left Châtillon this morning in an open calèche for Ivrea, on our way to Turin. bright, warm day, but the mountains were not free from clouds. Our course was by an excellent carriage-road, down the lower end of the Valley of Aosta, which before reaching Fort Bard assumes the appearance of a gigantic defile. On a lofty rock in the centre of this defile stand |