“If know Joseph, it will afford him infinite satisfaction; and the more intense his physical suffering, the happier he’ll be in the thought that he is bearing it for her,” I replied.  “I’ll go out and break the news to the poor chap.”

The Boy sprang up.  “No, no; don’t leave me alone!” he cried.  Then, as I looked surprised, he added, more quietly:  “I mean I’ll go with you, and talk to Innocentina.  Meanwhile, our things can be sent up to our rooms.”

Though he had asked “what the men at the other end of the room were like,” he showed no desire to verify for himself the description I had given.  He kept his back religiously turned towards his countrymen, and did not throw a single glance their way as we left the salon with the landlord, though I saw that the two young Americans were interested in him.

We returned to the door at the end of the long corridor, where we had entered the hotel ten or fifteen minutes earlier, and found Joseph, Innocentina, and the animals still sheltering against the house wall.  The porter had already retailed the bad news, and the faithful muleteer had of his own accord volunteered to play the part which the Boy and I had assigned him.  Though he was tired, cold, and hungry, and had the prospect of a gloomy walk, with a night of discomfort to follow, he was far from being depressed; and I thought I knew what supported him in his hour of trial.

We saw him off, followed by a piteous trail of asshood, and then, shivering once more, we re-entered the dim corridor.  Innocentina, much subdued, was with us now, carrying the famous bag in its snow-powdered ruecksack, while a porter went before with the rest of the luggage, taken from the tired backs of our beasts.  We had reached the foot of the stairs, when we came so suddenly face to face with the two Americans that it almost seemed we had stumbled upon an ambush.

They stared very hard at the Boy, who did not give them a glance, though I was conscious of a stiffening of his muscles.  He turned his head a little on one side, so that the shadow of the panama eclipsed his face from their point of view; but I could see that he had first grown scarlet, then white.

“By Jove, but it can’t be possible!” I heard one of the men say as we passed and began to ascend the stairs.  The answer I did not hear; but Innocentina, who was close behind me, glared with unchristian malevolence at the young men, as if instinct whispered that they were concerning themselves unnecessarily about her master’s business.

The Boy ran upstairs as lightly as if he had never known fatigue.  The porter showed him his room; his luggage was taken in, and then he came out to me in the passage.

“You told Joseph that he needn’t come up very early to-morrow, didn’t you?” he enquired.

“Yes, as we’re pretty well fagged, and Chambery isn’t an all-day’s journey, I thought we might take our time in the morning.  That suits you, doesn’t it?” (It was really of him that I had been thinking, but I did not say so.)