As the bag in question really did contain money, her remark was not so far from the truth as it might have been.
"Was it not very lonely living up here all the year round?" we asked her.
"Ah, well; it was triste in winter, for sometimes they were snowed up for six or seven months together; but in summer it was not dull, for she had friends like these with her."
"Had she any children," we asked, "to brighten up her solitude in winter?"
The dark eyes filled with tears, and the rough brown face softened, as she shook her head sadly, "No, not one; and she had been married four years."
"But," we said, consolingly, "there may still be some, at some future day."
"Ah, madame, I have prayed the Holy Mother of God, and I think it must be because I am not good enough. But this month (month of Mary), I have sent an offering to her shrine; and perhaps she will hear me this time."
The wistful eyes of the poor woman still wore their touching expression as we said good-bye, and, after a two-hours' halt on the Bocca, walked off on our return journey.
I should advise all travellers, except those of unusually stout nerves, to do as we did, and start before the carriage on returning, doing the first three or four miles of descent on foot.
Even with so careful and skilful a driver as ours, cantering down this uncommonly steep and narrow road must be a doubtful enjoyment to most persons not accustomed to live on the edge of a precipice; besides which, the lovely scenery can be much more fully appreciated on foot and at a walking pace.