“Where there has been a crime, Maso, there must have been a criminal!”

“The Bishop of Sion could not have made truth clearer to the sinner than yourself, Signor Sigismondo!  Your manner leads me to ask what I have to do with this?”

“There has been a murder, Maso, and the murderer is sought.  The dead was found near the spot where thou passed the night; I shall not conceal the unhappy suspicions that are so natural.”

“Diamine! where did you pass the night yourself, brave Capitano, if I may be so bold as to question my superior?  Where did the noble Baron de Willading take his rest, and his fair daughter and one nobler and more illustrious than he, and Pierre the guide, and—­ay, and our friends, the mules again?”

Maso laughed recklessly once more, as he made this second allusion to the patient brutes.  Sigismund disliked his levity, which he thought forced and unnatural.

“This reasoning may satisfy thee, unfortunate man, but it will not satisfy others.  Thou wert alone, but we travelled in company; judging from thy exterior, thou art but little favored by fortune, Whereas we are more happy in this particular; and thou hast been, and art still, in haste to depart, while the discovery of the foul deed is owing to us alone.  Thou must return to the convent, that this grave matter may, at least, be examined.”

Il Maledetto seemed troubled.  Once or twice he glanced his eye at the quiet athletic frame of the young man, and then turned them on the path in reflection.  Although Sigismund narrowly watched the workings of his countenance, giving a little of his attention also, from time to time, to the movements of Pippo and the pilgrim, he preserved himself a perfectly calm exterior.  Firm in his purpose, accustomed to make extraordinary exertions in his manly exercises, and conscious of his great physical force, he was not a man to be easily daunted.  It is true that the companions of Maso conducted themselves in a way to excite no additional apprehensions on their account; for, on the announcement of the murder, they moved away from his person a little, as by a natural horror of the hand that could have done the deed.  They now consulted together, and profiting by their situation behind the back of the Italian, they made signs to Sigismund of their readiness to assist should it be necessary.  He received the signal writh satisfaction; for, though he knew them to be knaves, he sufficiently understood the difference between audacious crime and mere roguery to believe they might, in this instance at least, prove true.

“Thou wilt return to the convent, Maso,” resumed the young soldier, who would gladly avoid a struggle with a man who had done him and those he loved so much service, though resolved to discharge what he conceived to be an imperious duty:  “this pilgrim and his friend will be of our party, in order that, when we quit the mountain, all may leave it blameless and unsuspected.”