"If that's all, K. I.," said I, "it's well for you,--it's well if it is not worse than the gout. Ay, get red in the face,--be as passionate as you please, but you shall hear the truth from me, at least; I mayn't be long here to tell it. Sufferings such as I 've gone through will do their work at last; but I 'll fulfil my duty to my family till I 'm released--" With that I gave it to him, till we arrived at Coire, eighteen miles, and a good part of it up hill, and you may think what that was. At all events, Molly, he did n't come off with flying colors, for when we reached a place called Splügen he was seized with the gout in earnest I only wish you saw the hole he pitched upon to be laid up in; but it's like everything else the man does. Every trait of his character shows that he has n't a thought, nor a notion, but about his own comforts and his own enjoyments. And I told him so. I said to him, "Don't think that your self-indulgence and indolence go down with _me_ for easiness of temper: that's an imposture may do very well for the _world_, but your wife can't be taken in by it." In a word, Molly, I didn't spare him; and as his attack was a sharp one, I think it's likely he does n't look back to the Splügen with any very grateful reminiscences. Little I thought, all the time, what good cause I had for my complaints, nor what was in store for me in the very middle of the snow! You must know that we had to take the wheels off the carriage and put it on something like a pair of big skates, for the snow was mountains high, and as soft as an egg-pudding. You may think what floundering we had through it for twelve hours, sometimes sinking up to the chin, now swimming, now digging, and now again being dragged out of it by ropes, till we came to what they call the "Refuge-house;" a pretty refuge, indeed, with no door, and scarcely a window, and everybody--guides, postboys, diggers, and travellers--all hickledy-pickledy inside! There we were, my dear, without a bed, or even a mattress, and nothing to eat but a bottle of Sir Robert Peel's sauce, that K. I. had in his trunk, with a case of eau-de-Cologne to wash it down. Fortunately for me my feelings got the better of me, and I sobbed and screeched myself to rest. When I awoke in the morning, I heard from Mary Anne that another family, and English too, were in the refuge with us, and, to all appearance, not ill-supplied with the necessaries of life. This much I perceived myself, for the courier lit a big fire on the hearth, and laid a little table beside it, as neat and comfortable as could be. After that he brought out a coffee-pot and boiled the coffee, and made a plate of toast, and fried a dish of ham-rashers and eggs. The very fizzing of them on the fire, Molly, nearly overcame me! But that wasn't all; but he put down on the table a case of sardines and a glass bowl of beautiful honey, just as if he wanted to make my suffering unbearable. It was all I could do to stand it.