Then further, when people are going to travel in company for several weeks it is well that at least they should know something of one another, for if they all commenced “pulling different ways” up in the mountains, the safety, or at any rate the composure of each, would be likely to suffer.  My own relations, who were with me at first, left for England long before the mountain trip was arranged, but we made up a very pleasant quartette before the time for starting arrived, and accordingly visited Pau in company as well as the mountains.  This quartette consisted of Mrs. and Miss Blunt, Mr. Sydney and myself, and though it will be seen by subsequent chapters that the trio decided on staying a fortnight at Biarritz in preference to following my example and spending the time at Bagneres de Bigorre, yet we made arrangements to meet either at Lourdes or Argeles and thenceforward to travel in company.

To see Pau in its beauty, winter must have given place to spring.  When the grass once more begins to grow, the trees to unfold their tender leaves, the rivers to swell, and the birds to sing; while yet the sun’s rays cannot pierce the snowy garment on the distant heights; then Pau is in her beauty.  Passing—­as we so often passed —­down the Rue Montpensier and the consecutive Rue Serviez, into the Rue du Lycee, then turning from it to the right for a short distance, till, with the English club at the corner on our left, we turned into the Place Royale, and, with the fine theatre frowning on our backs, quickly made our way between the rows of plane-trees, but just uncurling their leaves, to the terrace whence the whole enormous expanse of mountain can be viewed, our admiration at the magnificent scene unfolded before us never diminished.  But our favourite time was at sunset, especially one of those warm ruddy sunsets that tint the heavens like a superb red canopy.

Then, leaning on the terrace wall, we admired in silence.  Beneath us lay part of the town and the railway station, the river beyond, in one part divided and slowly flowing over its stony bed among the alder bushes; at another, gathered together again, rushing furiously along as though impatient to lose itself for ever in the depths of the ocean.

[Illustration:  PAU (FROM THE JURANCON SIDE OF THE GAVE).]

Beyond the river, amid the varied green of tree and meadow, nestled the scattered villages, with the hills above, here brown with bare vineyards, there vying with the meadow’s green; and in the background behind and above all, the mighty range of snow mountains extending as far as eye could reach, and fading in the dim haze of distance.  Then, as the sun sank lower, the soft rosy hue shone on the castle windows, glinted through the trees of the Chateau Park, dyed the swift waters of the river, and tipped the snowy crests afar.  There are few, we think, who would not, as we did, enjoy fully the contemplation of such a scene.