“Yes, I swear,” I said, taking it and pressing it to my lips.
“Good!” he exclaimed; “here is the packet. Deliver it safely, for its contents, if lost, could never be replaced. Join us in another glass, and then proceed. Oldrini will go with you to the outskirts of Lanslebourg.”
I emptied another glass of brandy with the smugglers, and a few minutes later saw the sunlight and breathed the fresh mountain air again. When we were well on our downward path, I felt inclined to reprimand my guide for having taken me to the cavern; but on reflection it became plain that he was in league with the contrabandists, and that he carried on smuggling and thieving in the guise of guide.
Onward we trudged down the steep, slippery rocks, scarcely uttering a word for an hour, when suddenly from a sentry-box there appeared a French soldier with rifle presented.
He inquired our names, and why we wished to enter France. A civil reply propitiated him, and he drew himself up at “Attention!” and allowed us to proceed.
We were compelled by the steepness of the mountain to take a circuitous route, so that the descent occupied longer than we had anticipated, and when, soon after sunset, we emerged upon the high road to Lanslebourg, he halted to take leave of me.
“Pardon, signore,” exclaimed my guide. “I only took you to the cavern because it is imperative that the packet should be delivered. I ask your forgiveness;” and he raised his cap deferentially.
“For what reason is it imperative?” I inquired.
“I regret I cannot tell you,” he replied. “Addio, signore. Remember your trust, and keep your promise, or—”
He did not finish the sentence, but shrugged his shoulders significantly, and, handing me my valise, turned and left me.