Mentone is more sheltered than either Cannes or Nice, the mountains encircling the town more closely; there is consequently more hill-climbing, and fewer extended walks and excursions for invalids. It was occasionally bleak and cold after sunset during this early part of the year, and invalids were all obliged to gain the shelter of their dwellings by about four p.m. These cold, biting winds generally blew from north or east, the main streets being like drafty narrow gorges.
We had one exceedingly pretty walk up the valley to the right of our hotel. The river, now almost dry, flowing silently along on one side; on the other, hills and orange groves, and a little church or monastery perched among the trees in the far distance--it resembled a Swiss mountain valley. It was a very romantic road, and I incidentally remarked to my wife that it was just the kind of place where, a few years ago, we might have heard a shrill whistle from the hills, then an answering echo, and by-and-by a band of brigands suddenly swooping down upon us to carry us off to their lair upon the mountains. This was quite enough to make her nervous, and, despite my pacifying assurances that in these days of enlightened progress no such thrilling adventure would be likely to befall us, she begged that we might return at once; and, as our walk had already been a somewhat extended one into the still recesses of the mountain valley, I thought it just as well to follow her prudent advice and retrace our steps. For although I laughed at my wife's fears, they were really not so utterly without foundation as might at first appear, for we had recently heard of a most daring case of brigandage in the neighbourhood. As I have before remarked, there are a great many very questionable characters loitering between Nice and Genoa.
Two ladies at an hotel here met with a small adventure that might have ended in something more serious but for one fortunate circumstance. They were a mother and daughter, staying at Nice about the same time as ourselves, and related that having started one fine afternoon to walk to Villafranca, on getting out of sight of all signs of habitation, they were much alarmed to find they were being followed by two ill-looking Italians. The men passed them, and disappeared round the promontory which shuts Nice out of sight, and forms one side of the natural harbour of Villafranca. The ladies, wishing to give them a wide berth, walked very slowly, hoping to be left far in their wake; but soon after, on reaching a particularly dull part of the road, they came on the men again, who were evidently waiting for them. Still hoping they might be mistaken, the two ladies stopped likewise, as if to admire the scenery and consult their guide-books, but the men held their ground, and presently walked towards them. Just as they were approaching, a carriage containing a gentleman came in sight, and they thereupon walked on for a short distance, as if they were only returning the way they had come; but as soon as the carriage had fairly passed, they once more turned. The ladies were now thoroughly alarmed, and the younger one flew down the dusty road after the carriage, in hopes of overtaking it and soliciting protection. She was fortunately observed by the occupant, who at once stopped the horses, and very kindly invited them to continue their journey in his carriage, remarking that many of the roads along the Riviera were decidedly unsafe for foot-passengers, and that he had been surprised at two ladies undertaking such a risk alone. They gratefully accepted his offer, and proceeded to the Villafranca station without meeting a single human being--a fact which they noted with a shudder and a deep sense of thankfulness at their narrow escape.