Many excursions, especially by steamer; the
Borromean islands well worth seeing, and Baveno and Stresa and the
road to the Simplon."
I refused to be drawn, and only muttered that I hated excursions and
steamers and lakes, and wished to be left in peace.
"A little out of sorts, I'm afraid, Mr. Falfani. Sad that. Too many
emotions, want of sleep, perhaps. You _would_ do _too_ much last
night." He still kept up his hateful babble, and Jules maddened me by
his sniggering enjoyment of my discomfiture.
More than ever did I set my brain to puzzle out some way of escaping
this horrible infliction. Was it not possible to give them the slip,
somehow, somewhere? I took the Colonel's hint, and pretended to take
refuge in sleep, and at last, I believe, I dozed off. It must have
been in my dreams that an idea came to me, a simple idea, easy of
execution with luck and determination.
It was suggested to me by the short tunnels that succeed so frequently
in the ascent of the St. Gothard Alps. They are, as most people know,
a chief feature in the mountain railway, and a marvel of engineering
skill, being cut in circles to give the necessary length and gain the
height with a moderate gradient.
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