of those self-satisfied, authoritative, boisterous, well-meaning beings, of whose class Peterchen formed so conspicuous a member, had this been the first of the bailiff’s visits to the Col.  As it was, however, the Prior not only understood the species, but he well knew the individual specimen, and he was well enough disposed to humor the noisy pleasantry of his companion.  Disburthened of his superfluous clothing, delivered of his introductory jokes, and having achieved his salutations to the several canons, with suitable words of recognition to the three or four novices who were usually found on the mountain, Peterchen declared his readiness to enter on the duty of what the French call restoration.  This want had been foreseen, and the Prior led the way to a private refectory, where preparations had been made for a sufficient supper, the bailiff being very generally known to be a huge feeder.

“Thou wilt not fare as well as in thy warm and cheerful town of Vevey, which outdoes most of Italy in its pleasantness and fruits; but thou shalt, at least, drink of thine own warm wines,” observed the superior, as they went along the corridor; “and a right goodly company awaits thee, to share hot only thy repast but thy good companionship.”

“Hast ever a drop of kirschwasser, brother Michael, in thy convent?”

“We have not only that, but we have the Baron de Willading, and a noble Genoese who is in his company; they are ready to set to, the moment they can see thy face.”

“A noble Genoese!”

“An Italian gentleman, of a certainty; I think they call him a Genoese.”

Peterchen stopped, laid a finger on his nose, and looked mysterious; but he forbore to speak, for, by the open simple countenance of the monk, he saw that the other had no suspicion of his meaning.

“I will hazard my office of bailiff against that of thy worthy clavier, that he is just what he seemeth,—­that is to say, a Genoese!”

“The risk will not be great, for so he has already announced himself.  We ask no questions here and be he who or what he may, he is welcome to come, and welcome to depart, in peace.”

“Ay, this is well enough for an Augustine on the top of the Alps,—­he hath attendants?”

“A menial and a friend; the latter, however, left the convent for Italy, when the noble Genoese determined to remain until this inquiry was over There was something said of heavy affairs which required that some explanations of the delay should be sent to others.”

Peterchen again looked steadily at the Prior, smiling, as in pity, of his ignorance.