"Try him in--what's-its--name--French." "_S'il vous plait, pouvez vous dire nous le chemin a bas a Llanberis_ ?" said Magnus, who was a capital French scholar.
It was not at all certain that the gentleman understood even this.

He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder up at the clouds, which was certainly not the shortest way down to Llanberis.

But as it was the direction from which the sound of the knives and forks had proceeded, it seemed as if nothing would be lost by following.
The gentleman, who in his excitement had clean forgotten about his garments, hurried the boys up the hill at a terrific pace, until all of a sudden they got out of the clouds and saw clear ahead.
The scene was a remarkable one--Magnus's idea of a picnic had been a correct, one.

But such a picnic! A party of some fifteen persons, not by any means all gentlemen, was sitting round a medium-sized table, spread with cups and dishes.

The entire company, if they had not been bathing, were apparently preparing to do so, except one gentleman, who was so encased in armour that it would have been a very tedious job to take it off, and one lady, who was also got up in a military fashion, and carried a very ugly shield on her arm.