tle concern Valais or her government, since all come and
go unquestioned in this free land."

"It is true, we do not imitate our neighbors in all their policy; neither
do we like to see so often those who set at naught the laws of friendly
states. Why art thou journeying on this road?"

"Signore, if I am what you say, the reason of my being here is
sufficiently plain. It is probably because the Lombard and Piedmontese
are more exacting of the stranger than you of the mountains."

"Your effects have been examined, and they offer nothing to support the
suspicion. By all appearances, Maso, thou hast not much of the goods of
life to boast of; but, in spite of this, thy reputation clings to thee."

"Ay, Signore, this is much after the world's humor. Let it fancy any
quality in a man, and he is sure to get more than his share of the same,
whether it be for or against his interest. The rich man's florin is
quickly coined into a sequin by vulgar tongues, while the poor man is
lucky if he can get the change of a silver mark for an ounce of the better
metal. Even poor Nettuno finds it difficult to get a living here at the
convent, because some difference in coat and instinct has given him a bad
name among the dogs of St. Bernard!"

"Thy answer agrees with thy character; thou art said to have more wit than
honesty, Maso, and thou art described as one that can form a desperate
resolution and act up to its decision at need?"

"I am as Heaven willed at the birth, Signor Castellano, and as the chances
of a pretty busy life have served to give the work its finish. That I am
not wanting in manly qualities on occasion, perhaps these noble travellers
will be willing to testify, in consideration of some activity that I may
have shown on the Leman, during their late passage of that treacherous
water."

Though this was said carelessly, the appeal to the recollection and
gratitude of those he had served was too direct to be overlooked. Melchior
de Willading, the pious clavier, and the Signor Grimaldi all testified in
behalf of the prisoner, freely admitting that, without his coolness and
skill, the Winkelried and all she held would irretrievably have been lost.
Sigismund was not content with so cold a demonstration of his feelings. He
owed not only the lives of his father and him self to the courage of Maso,
but that of one dearer than all; one whose preservation, to his youthful
imagination, seemed a service that might nearly atone for