In the afternoon M.
Tauchnitz sent H. a package of his entertaining English publications,
to read in the cars, also a Murray for Germany. H. and I then took the
cars for Halle, where we hoped to spend the Sabbath and meet with Dr.
Tholuck. Travellers sometimes visit Chamouni without seeing Mont
Blanc, who remains enveloped in clouds during their stay. So with us.
In an hour we were in rooms at the Kron Prince. We sent a note to the
professor; the waiter returned, saying that Dr. Tholuck was at
Kissengen. Our theological Mont Blanc was hid in mist. Blank enough
"H., is there no other professor we want to see?"
"I believe not."
Pensively she read one of the Tauchnitz Library. Plaintively my
_Amati_ sighed condolence.
"H." said I, "perhaps we might reach Dresden to-night."
"Do you think so? Is it possible? Is there a train?"
"We can soon ascertain."
"How amazed they would look!"
We summoned the _maitre d'hotel_, ordered tea, paid, packed,
raced, ran, and hurried, _presto, prestissimo,_ into a car half
choked with voyagers, changed lines at Leipsic, and shot off to
Dresden. By deep midnight we were thundering over the great stone Pont
d'Elbe, to the Hotel de Saxe, where, by one o'clock, we were lost in