"Such rogues have been known to infest the place, but, in general, there
is too little to be gained for the risk. Your rich traveller is not an
every-day sight among our rocks; and you well know Signore, that there may
be too few, as well as too many, on a path, for your freebooter."

The Italian was distrustful by habit on all such subjects, and he threw a
quick suspicious glance at the guide. But the frank open countenance of
Pierre removed all doubt of his honesty, to say nothing of the effect of a
well-established reputation.

"But thou hast spoken of certain vagabonds who have preceded us?"

"In that particular, matters might be better;" answered the plain-minded
mountaineer, dropping his head in an attitude of meditation so naturally
expressed as to give additional weight to his words. "Many of bad
appearance have certainly gone up to-day; such as a Neapolitan named
Pippo, who is anything but a saint--a certain pilgrim, who will be nearer
heaven at the convent than he will be at the death--St. Pierre pray for me
if I do the man injustice!--and one or two more of the same brood. There
is another that hath gone up also, post haste, and with good reason as
they say, for he hath made himself the but of all the jokers in Vevey on
account of some foolery in the games of the Abbaye--a certain Jacques
Colis."

The name was repeated by several near the speaker.

"The same, Messieurs. It would seem that the Sieur Colis would fain take a
maiden to wife in the public sports, and, when her birth came to be be
known, that his bride was no other than the child of Balthazar, the common
headsman of Berne!"

A general silence betrayed the embarrassment of most of the listeners.

"And that tale hath already reached this glen," said Sigismund, in a tone
so deep and firm as to cause Pierre to start, while the two old nobles
looked in another direction, feigning not to observe what was passing.

"Rumor hath a nimbler foot than a mule, young officer;" answered the
honest guide. "The tale, as you call it, will have travelled across the
mountains sooner than they who bore it--though I never knew how such a
miracle could pass--but so it is; report goes faster than the tongue that
spreads it, and if there be a little untruth to help it along, the wind
itself is scarcely swifter. Honest Jacques Colis has bethought him to get
the start of his story, but, my life on it, though he is active enough in
getting away from his mockers, th