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Don Abbondio, to whom flight had immediately suggested itself,

saw in it, nevertheless, invincible obstacles, and frightful

dangers. "What shall I do?" cried he; "where shall I go?" The

mountains, without speaking of the difficulty of ascending them,

were not safe; the foot soldiers climbed them like cats, if they

had the slightest indication or hope of booty; the waters of the

lake were swollen; it was blowing violently; in addition to

which, the greater part of the watermen, fearing to be forced to

pass soldiers or baggage, had taken refuge with their boats on

the opposite shore; the few barks that remained were already

filled with people, and endangered by the weather. It was

impossible to find a carriage or horse, or any mode of

conveyance. Don Abbondio did not dare venture on foot, incurring,

as he would, the probability of being stopped on the road.