e Valsolda, hidden
behind Monte Bre, but that same water mirrored Oria, and slept in the
boathouse at home. A wave of peace eased his heart somewhat; he felt he
was among things familiar to him. Every human voice was hushed, but the
great, dark hills spoke to him, Monte Caprino and the Zocca d'i Ment
more than all, for they overlooked Oria. They spoke gently to him,
suggesting comfort-bringing thoughts. Nineteen hours had passed since
the telegram was sent. All danger might now be over.

As no one appeared he went to the Fontana pharmacy, and rang the bell.
For many years he had known that most worthy, cordial, and honest man,
Signor Carlo Fontana, who has now passed away with the world of long
ago. Signor Carlo came to the window, and was greatly surprised to see
Don Franco. He had no news from Oria. He had spent the last two days at
Tesserete, and had returned only a few hours before, so could tell him
nothing. His assistant had started for Bellinzona that evening. Franco
thanked him and walked away in the direction of Villa Ciani, for he was
now determined to go to Oria at once.

Two routes were open to him. He could either climb the Swiss slope of
the Boglia from Pregassona, strike the heights of Bolla; cross the Pian
Biscagno and the great beech wood, coming out at the venerable
beech-tree of the Madonnina on the brow of the hill which slopes down
into Lombardy, and then drop down on to Albogasio Superiore and Oria; or
he could take the easy Gandria road, leading towards the lake, and then
follow that treacherous and dangerous path which starts from Gandria,
the last Swiss village, cuts along the face of the almost perpendicular
cliff, crosses the frontier some hundred metres above the lake, runs on
to the Origa farm, drops into the ravine of Val Malghera, rising once
more to the Rooch farm, where it joins the paved way which passes above
Niscicoree and finally leads down to Oria. The first route was much
longer and far more difficult, but it afforded a better chance of
eluding the vigilance of the guards at the frontier. On leaving the
Fontana pharmacy Franco had been fully determined to go that way, but
when, on reaching Cassarago, where the roads to Pregassona and to
Gandria meet, he saw how near the point of Castagnola was, and reflected
that it would take him less than half an hour to go from Castagnola to
Gandria, and that another hour and a half would take him from Gandria to
Oria, the idea of climbing the