Black, and cock a dirty slouch hat over one
ear and take a guitar and sit on a flat stone by the roadside and
cross one's legs, and, after a few pings and pongs on the strings,
strike up a Ballad with the refrain -
_Car j'ai toujours huit francs et dix centimes!_ a jocular,
sub-sardonic, a triumphant refrain!
But all this is by the way; the point is, why was the eight francs and
ten centimes of such importance just there and then?
For this reason, that I could get no more money before Milan; and I
think a little reflection will show you what a meaning lies in that
phrase. Milan was nearer ninety miles than eighty miles off. By the
strict road it was over ninety. And so I was forced to consider and to
be anxious, for how would this money hold out?
There was nothing for it but forced marches, and little prospect of
luxuries. But could it be done?
I thought it could, and I reasoned this way.
'It is true I need a good deal of food, and that if a man is to cover
great distances he must keep fit. It is also true that many men have
done more on less. On the other hand, they were men who were not
pressed for time - I am; and I do not know the habits of the country.
Ninety miles is three good days; two very heavy days. Indeed, whether
it can be done at all in two is doubtful. But it can be done in two
days, two nights, and half the third day. So if I plan it thus I shall
achieve it; namely, to march say forty-five miles or more to-day, and
to sleep rough at the end of it. My food may cost me altogether three
francs. I march the next day twenty-five to thirty, my food costing me
another three francs. Then with the remaining two francs and ten
centimes I will take a bed at the end of the day, and coffee and bread
next morning, and will march the remaining twenty miles or less (as
they may be) into Milan with a copper or two in my pocket. Then in
Milan, having obtained my money, I will eat.'
So I planned with very careful and exact precision, but many accidents
and unexpected things, diverting my plans, lay in wait for me among
the hills.
And to cut a long story short, as the old sailor said to the young
fool -
LECTOR. What did the old sailor say to the young fool?
AUCTOR. Why, the old sailor was teaching the young fool his compass,
and he said - -
'Here we go from north, making round by west, and then by south round
by east again to north.
