exchange identities.
The young peasant should lie in bed, and be tended as the sick
stranger; and Claud, in peasant's dress, should flee over the other
pass, leave word with the monks as to the peril of his friend, and
make his way to Savoy with all the speed he could.

This had been done with wonderful ease and celerity. And now,
having accomplished all with unlooked-for success, he had returned
to find Tom not only alive, but in good condition; for the latter,
having once got rid of the persistent fever which had brought him
so low, was getting back his strength and vigour every day. The
mountain air was now acting like a tonic upon him, and the kindly
ministrations of the brothers of the monastery gave him every help
his condition needed. Even the scars upon his back had ceased to
smart, and he was all but fit for the road and the saddle ere Lord
Claud joined him again.

His lordship had heard good tidings of the horses in the valley
below. And when rested from his rapid journey in search of Tom, he
went to visit them, and reported them abundantly fit for the road.

But the war had now been resumed, and the countries were all in
commotion. Travelling was a risky thing, save in numbers; and the
good monks warned them that they might easily lose their lives by
falling in with some bands of hostile soldiers, who were sure to
fall upon travellers in ferocious fashion, and rob them of arms and
horses, if not of life itself.

Soon, however, some of the monks themselves were to take a journey
into France, and if the travellers would habit themselves in the
cowl and gown, and travel with them, they could do so in almost
certain safety. Tom's shaven head lent itself excellently to the
tonsure; and though Lord Claud objected to part with his golden
tresses, he quickly manufactured himself a tonsured wig which
almost defied detection. As the monks, too, were to travel on
horseback for greater speed, they had but to teach their steeds to
amble along at a gentle pace, and none would be likely to suspect
them.

So the day came when the parting was made, the travellers leaving
behind their earnest thanks for kindness received, and taking with
them the blessings of their hosts, who had come to love the two
gallant young men right well.

They turned their backs upon the monastery, and wound their way
down into the green valley, where horses were awaiting all the
party; and then they turned their backs upon the ice and snow,