look, he permitted the other to see a snow-drop so thoroughly congealed, as to have not yet melted with the natural heat of his skin.  The eye of Pierre appeared to impose discretion on his confidant, and the silent communion escaped the observation of the rest of the travellers.  Just at this moment, too, the attention of the others was luckily called to a different object, by a cry from one of the muleteers, of whom there were three as assistants to the guide.  He pointed out a party which, like themselves, was holding the direction of the Col.  There was a solitary individual mounted on a mule, and a single pedestrian, without any guide, or other traveller, in their company.  Their movements were swift, and they had not been more than a minute in view, before they disappeared behind an angle of the crags which nearly closed the valley on the side of the convent, and which was the precise spot already mentioned as being so dangerous in the season of the melting snows.

“Dost thou know the quality and object of the travellers before us?” demanded the Baron de Willading of Pierre.

The latter mused.  It was evident he did not expect to meet with strangers in that particular part of the passage.

“We can know little of those who come from the convent, though few would be apt to leave so safe a roof at this late hour,” he answered; “but, until I saw yonder travellers with my own eyes, I could have sworn there were none on this side of the Col going the same way as ourselves?  It is time that all the others were already arrived.”

“They are villagers of St. Pierre, going up with supplies;” observed one of the muleteers.  “None bound to Italy have passed Liddes since the party of Pippo, and they by this tine should be well housed at the hospice.  Didst not see a dog among them?—­’twas one of the Augustines’ mastiffs.”

“’Twas the dog I noted, and it was on account of his appearance that I spoke;” returned the baron.  “The animal had the air of an old acquaintance, Gaetano, for to me it seemed to resemble our tried friend Nettuno; and he at whose heels it kept so close wore much the air of our acquaintance of the Leman, the bold and ready Maso.”

“Who has gone unrequited for his eminent services!” answered the Genoese, thoughtfully “The extraordinary refusal of that man to receive our money is quite as wonderful as any other part of his unusual and inexplicable conduct.  I would he had been less obstinate or less proud, for the unrequited obligation rests like a load upon my spirits.”

“Thou art wrong.  I employed our young friend Sigismund secretly on this duty, while we were receiving the greetings of Roger de Blonay and the good bailiff, but thy countryman treated the escape lightly, as the mariner is apt to consider past danger, and he would listen to no offer of protection or gold.  I was, therefore more displeased than surprised by what thou hast well enough termed obstinacy.”