To our left a sheer crag rose from the valley in one unbroken slope, and in front the mountains seemed to close and bar all progress.

We had five thousand feet to climb from the frontier stone, and I anticipated having to accomplish the larger part of it alone.

They had warned us that we should find eight feet of snow at the summit of the pass.
Miste had assuredly been hard pressed to attempt such a passage alone, and bearing, as he undoubtedly did, a large sum of money.

The man had a fine nerve, at all events; for on the other side he would plunge into the wildest part of northern Italy, where the human scum that ever hovers on frontiers had many a fastness.

Villainy always requires more nerve than virtue.
I meant, however, to catch Mr.Charles Miste on the French side of the Chapel of the Madonna di Finestra.
We trod our first snow at an altitude of about five thousand feet.