tourist-beguiling attractions. The monastery was almost inaccessible to
the average sightseer, being on an extremely rugged and precipitous spur
of the mountains. The attractions it possessed but did not advertise
were, first, an exclusive and divine cordial made by the monks that was
said to far surpass benedictine and chartreuse. Next a huge brass bell
so purely and accurately cast that it had not ceased sounding since it
was first rung three hundred years ago. Finally, it was asserted that no
Englishman had ever set foot within its walls. Eyres and Gilliam decided
that these three reports called for investigation.

It took them two days with the aid of two guides to reach the monastery
of St. Gondrau. It stood upon a frozen, wind-swept crag with the snow
piled about it in treacherous, drifting masses. They were hospitably
received by the brothers whose duty it was to entertain the infrequent
guest. They drank of the precious cordial, finding it rarely potent and
reviving. They listened to the great, ever-echoing bell, and learned
that they were pioneer travelers, in those gray stone walls, over the
Englishman whose restless feet have trodden nearly every corner of the
earth.

At three o'clock on the afternoon they arrived, the two young Gothamites
stood with good Brother Cristofer in the great, cold hallway of the
monastery to watch the monks march past on their way to the refectory.
They came slowly, pacing by twos, with their heads bowed, treading
noiselessly with sandaled feet upon the rough stone flags. As the
procession slowly filed past, Eyres suddenly gripped Gilliam by the arm.
"Look," he whispered, eagerly, "at the one just opposite you now--the
one on this side, with his hand at his waist--if that isn't Johnny
Bellchambers then I never saw him!"