say, father, that they who have the means to show
gratitude are not always unmindful of the wants of those, who share the
same hospitality without possessing the same ability to manifest their
respect for the institution."

The Augustine bowed, and he turned the discourse by pointing out the
frontiers of Italy, and the site of the ancient temple; both of which they
had this time reached. An animal moved among the rocks, and attracted
their attention.

"Can it be a chamois!" exclaimed Sigismund, whose blood began to quicken
with a hunter's eagerness: "I would I had arms!"

"It is a dog, though not of our mountain breed! The mastiffs of the
convent have failed in hospitality, and the poor beast has been driven to
take refuge in this retired spot, in waiting for his master, who probably
makes one of the party in the refectory. See, they come; their approaching
footsteps have brought the cautious animal from his cover."

Sigismund saw, in truth, that a party of three pedestrians was quitting
the convent, taking the path for Italy. A sudden and painful suspicion
flashed upon his mind. The dog was Nettuno, most probably driven by the
mastiffs, as the monk had suggested, to seek a shelter in this retreat;
and one of those who approached, by his gait and stature was no other than
his master.

"Thou knowest, father," he said, with a clammy tongue, for he was
strangely agitated between reluctance to accuse Maso of such a crime, and
horror at the fate of Jacques Colis, "that there has been a murder on the
mountain?"

The monk quietly assented. One who lived on that road, and in that age,
was not easily excited by an event of so frequent occurrence. Sigismund
hastily recounted to his companion all the circumstances that were then
known to himself, and related the manner in which he had first met the
Italian on the lake, and his general impressions concerning his character.

"All come and go unquestioned here;" returned the Augustine, when the
other had ended. "Our convent has been founded in charity, and we pray for
the sinner without inquiring into the amount of his crime. Still we have
authority, and it is especially our duty, to keep the road clear that our
own purposes may not be defeated. I leave thee to do what thou judgest
most prudent and proper in a matter so delicate."

Sigismund was silent; but as the pedestrians were drawing near, his
resolution was soon and sternly formed. The obligations that he owed to
Maso