The inn was, indeed, badly kept, but delightfully situated, at the
base of the mountains and close to the margin of another lake, which
the setting sun transformed into a basin of gold.
When our rooms had been given us and supper ordered, Wagner proposed
that we should go by boat to the place where a stream gushes out from
the rock, and is supposed to possess all sorts of virtues, among others
that of granting forgetfulness to whomsoever shall drink of its waters.
The inn-keeper himself rigged up his boat for us, and offered to take
us there. With one shove of his boat-hook he launched it upon the
luminous surface, which shivered and darkened into blue shadows.
Wagner began to sing, since we were now in the land of William Tell,
"Accours dans ma nacelle,
Timide jouvencelle...."
But we responded with themes from _The Flying Dutchman_, and after
that, _Lohengrin_. Then the Master joined in, and started the song
of the Ship-boy from _Tristan_. All the _motifs_ of the first and
third Acts which have to do with a ship were passed in review; The
_Rhinegold_ also had its turn, and at last Wagner cried:
"We have exhausted all my aquatic music!"
The mountains made an almost sheer descent to the lake. We reached the
spring that spouts from the rock. Madam Cosima wished to taste this
water, but I declared that I would not drink, lest I should lose the
memory of the wonderful journey.
The twilight lowered; gradually everything was obscured, and we sailed
under the deepening shadows. Wagner thought it would be more prudent
not to leave the boat, but to return to the inn, where supper awaited
us.