di gravely. "A country on which
God hath laid his finger in displeasure as on this, needs have some such
consolation as the phantom with which the honest Pierre appears to be so
well satisfied.--But, Signor guide, have many travellers tried the passage
of late, and what dost thou think of our prospects in making the attempt?
We hear gloomy tales, sometimes, of thy alpine paths in that Italy thou
hold'st so cheap."

"Your pardon, noble Signore, if the frankness of a mountaineer has carried
me too far. I do not undervalue your Piedmont, because I love our Valais
more. A country may be excellent, even though another should be better. As
for the travellers, none of note have gone up the Col of late, though
there have been the usual number of vagabonds and adventurers. The savor
of the convent kitchen will reach the noses of these knaves here in the
valley, though we have a long twelve leagues to journey in getting from
one to the other."

The Signor Grimaldi waited until Adelheid and Christine, who were
preparing to retire for the night, were out of hearing, and he resumed his
questions.

"Thou hast not spoken of the weather?"

"We are in one of the most uncertain and treacherous months of the good
season, Messieurs. The winter is gathering among the upper Alps, and in a
month in which the frosts are flying about like uneasy birds that do not
know where to alight, one can hardly say whether he hath need of his cloak
or not."

"San Francesco! Dost think I am dallying with thee, friend, about a
thickness more or less of cloth! I am hinting at avalanches and falling
rocks--at whirlwinds and tempests?"

Pierre laughed and shook his head, though he answered vaguely as became
his business.

"These are Italian opinions of our hills, Signore," he said; "they savor
of the imagination. Our pass is not as often troubled with the avalanche
as some that are known, even in the melting snows. Had you looked at the
peaks from the lake, you would have seen that, the hoary glaciers
excepted, they are still all brown and naked. The snow must fall from the
heavens before it can fall in the avalanche, and we are yet, I think, a
few days from the true winter."

"Thy calculations are made with nicety, friend," returned the Genoese, not
sorry, however, to hear the guide speak with so much apparent confidence
of the weather, "and we are obliged to thee in proportion. What of the
travellers thou hast named? Are there brigands on our path?"