dedicating themselves to St. Christopher, and going out night and
day to the sound of the Angelus, seeking the lost and weary. This
is really what Findelkind of Arlberg did five centuries ago, and
did so quickly that his fraternity of St. Christopher twenty years
after numbered among its members archdukes, and prelates, and
knights without number, and lasted as a great order down to the
days of Joseph II. This is what Findelkind in the fourteenth
century did, I tell you. Bear like faith in your hearts, my
children; and though your generation is a harder one than this,
because it is without faith, yet you shall move mountains, because
Christ and St. Christopher will be with you."

Then the good man, having said that, blessed them, and left them
alone to their chestnuts and crabs, and went into his own oratory
to prayer. The other boys laughed and chattered; but Findelkind
sat very quietly, thinking of his namesake, all the day after, and
for many days and weeks and months this story haunted him. A
little boy had done all that; and this little boy had been called
Findelkind; Findelkind, just like himself.

It was beautiful, and yet it tortured him. If the good man had
known how the history would root itself in the child's mind,
perhaps he would never have told it; for night and day it vexed
Findelkind, and yet seemed beckoning to him and crying, "Go thou
and do likewise!"

But what could he do?

There was the snow, indeed, and there were the mountains, as in
the fourteenth century, but there were no travelers lost. The