This wild scenery deeply moved Mlle.

Moriaz; she never had seen anything like it at Cormeilles or anywhere about Paris.

She alighted, and, moving towards the parapet, leaned over it, contemplating at her ease the depths below, which the foaming torrent beneath filled with its roars.
Her father speedily joined her.
"Do you not find this music charming ?" she asked of him.
"Charming, I grant," he replied; "but more charming still are those brave workmen who, at the risk of their necks, have engineered such a suspended highway as we see here.

I think you admire the torrent too much, and the road not enough." And after a pause he added, "I wish that our friend Camille Langis had had fewer dangers to contend with in constructing his." Antoinette turned quickly and looked at her father; then she bestowed her attention once more upon the Albula.

"To be sure," resumed M.Moriaz, stroking his whiskers with the head of his cane, "Camille is just the man to make his way through difficulties.