"And thou, father," turning to the Augustine, "art journeying towards thy
mountain residence, after a visit of love to the valleys and their
people?"

The monk of St. Bernard assented to the truth of this remark, explaining
the manner in which his community were accustomed annually to appeal to
the liberality of the generous in Switzerland, in behalf of an institution
that was founded in the interest of humanity, without reference to
distinction of faith.

"'Tis a blessed brotherhood," answered the Genoese, crossing himself,
perhaps as much from habit as from devotion, "and the traveller need wish
it well. I have never shared of your hospitality, but all report speaks
fairly of it, and the title of a brother of San Bernardo, should prove a
passport to the favor of every Christian."

"Signore," said Maso, stopping suddenly, and taking his part uninvited in
the discourse, and yet in a way to avoid the appearance of an impertinent
interference, "none know this better than I! A wanderer these many years,
I have often seen the stony roof of the hospice with as much pleasure as I
have ever beheld the entrance of my haven, when an adverse gale was
pressing against my canvass. Honor and a rich _quête_ to the clavier of
the convent, therefore, for it is bringing succor to the poor and rest to
the weary!"

As he uttered this opinion, Maso decorously raised his cap, and pursued
his straitened walk with the industry of a caged tiger. It was so unusual
for one of his condition to obtrude on the discourse of the fair and
noble, that the party exchanged looks of surprise; but, the Signor