Chapter 25 - Page 2

resisted the
greatest heat of the past summer, ran partly into the valley of the Rhone,
and partly into Piedmont; the waters, after a long and devious course
through the plains of France and Italy, meeting again in the common basin
of the Mediterranean. The path, on quitting the convent, runs between the
base of the rocks on its right and a little limpid lake on its left, the
latter occupying nearly the entire cavity of the valley of the gorge. It
then disappears between natural palisades of rock, at the other extremity
of the Col. This is the point where the superfluous waters of the lake
find their outlet, descending swiftly, in a brawling little brook, on the
sunny side of the Alps. The frontier of Italy is met on the margin of the
lake, a long musket-shot from the abode of the Augustines, and near the
site of a temple that the Romans had raised in honor of Jupiter, in his
attribute of director of storms.

Such was the outline of the view which presented itself to Sigismund, when
he left the building to while away the time that must necessarily elapse
before the arrival of the rest of the party. The hour was still early,
though the great altitude of the site of the convent had brought it
beneath the influence of the sun's rays an hour before. He had learned
from a servant of the Augustines, that a number of ordinary travellers, of
whom in the fine season hundreds at a time frequently passed the night in
their dormitories, were now breaking their fasts in the refectory of the
peasants, and he was willing to avoid the questions that their curiosity
might prompt when they came to hear what had occurred lower down on the
mountain. One of the brotherhood was caressing four or five enormous
mastiffs, that were leaping about and barking with deep throats in front
of the convent, while old Uberto moved among them with a gravity and
respect that better suited his years. Perceiving his guest, the Augustine
quitted the dogs, and, lifting his eastern-looking cap, he gave him the
salutation of the morning. Sigismund met the frank smile of the canon, who
like himself was young with a fit return. The occasion was such as
Sigismund desired, and a friendly discourse succeeded while they paced
along the margin of the lake, holding the path that leads across the Col.

"You are young in your charitable office, brother," remarked the soldier,
when familiarity was a little established. "This will be among the first
of the winters you will have passed at your benevolent post?"

"It will make the eighth, as novice and as canon. We are early trained to
this kind of life, though no practice will enable any of us to withstand
the effect which the thin air and intense cold produce on the lungs many