106 THE MOUNTAINS 



sharp single points up into the sky. In 

 this panoramic reach toward the higher 

 Alps, there stand out, shining brightly 

 under the glorious sun, three "rock vil- 

 lages" — Borghetto, so low down that it 

 is almost in the basin of the valley; Valle- 

 bona, somewhat higher, with its slender 

 church spire; and yet higher, on the very 

 crest of a hill, Sasso, like a mediaeval castle 

 in solid appearance; and yet, as Garnier 

 says, "seeming to float above the treetops 

 in an ocean of verdure." Then, to the 

 south, lying at your very feet is the new 

 town of Bordighera, called "Borgo Ma- 

 rina," its hotels and villas half buried 

 in gardens almost tropical; and beyond 

 the town everywhere — toward Gibraltar, 

 toward Genoa, out past Corsica and Sar- 

 dinia toward Africa — everywhere the in- 

 describable Mediterranean. I say "inde- 

 scribable," and I mean it, but I will dare 

 to quote Giovanni Ruffini's words in Doc- 

 tor Antonio. "In front lay the immensity 

 of sea, smooth as glass, and rich with all 



