Tom and Lord Claud did not linger longer than the time needful for saddling the horses.

They knew that the people of the inn must be in collusion with the soldiers, and the sooner they quitted the place the better.
They had long since left behind them the level plains, and were now in a country that became increasingly mountainous and difficult.
After the long, flat plains of Holland, Tom had thought the Baden territory sufficiently mountainous; but now he was to make acquaintance with the snow-topped peaks and ranges of Switzerland, and his eyes dilated with awe and wonder when first he beheld the dazzling white peaks standing out clear against a sunny sky.
He was not a youth of much imagination or poetry, but he did feel a strange thrilling of the pulses as he looked upon this wonderful sight.
But Lord Claud's face was cool and impassive as usual, and his remark was: "Very fine to look at, good Tom, but ugly customers to tackle.

A snowstorm up amongst those mountain peaks may well be the death of either or both of us, and the snow will be our winding sheet." "Have we to cross those snows, my lord?
to scale those lofty peaks ?" "We shall have plenty of snow, Tom, without scaling the peaks.

At this season the passes will be deep in snow.

We shall have to trust to a guide to take us safely over; and the very guide may be a spy and a traitor himself." "But, my lord, I thought you knew the way?
I thought you had crossed the pass once ?" "So I have, Tom; but these snow fields are treacherous places, and the track shifts and changes with every winter's snow.