I could look round to thank him, the friendly Frenchman was swallowed up in darkness. I called Brown and gave him the news. He asked if we minded being left alone while he went to fetch the chief, saying we should be quite safe in charge of the douaniers; and on our agreeing strode off up the steep road, one of the guards immediately padding silently after him. We sat and waited perhaps half an hour on the threshold of Italy, our lamps casting their rays into the country we were forbidden to enter, when I heard Brown's voice and the sound of footsteps. By some persuasion he had induced the chef de douane to return with him. The office doors were thrown open, the gas was lighted, the necessary papers were made out, the deposit paid, and then, at Brown's invitation, the agreeable official mounted into the car, and we ran quickly up the hill to his house.
It was a thrilling drive from the frontier to Bordighera. A great wind coming salt off the sea was moaning along the face of the mountains, completely drowning the comforting hum of our motor. The road mounted up and up, terrific gusts striking the car as it came out into exposed places. Far below we heard the thunder of mighty waves dashing on the rock. Then we began to descend a steep and twisting road that led up presently to low ground, not much above the sea, where the wind shrieked down the funnel of a river-bed. Then up again along another face of cliff under cyclopean walls of masonry, and down a sudden shoot between houses into the old, old town of Ventimiglia; across a river
