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The ruddy glow of sunset was already fading into the sombre shadows of night, when two travellersmight have been observed swiftly-at a pace of six miles in the hour-descending the rugged sideof a mountain; the younger bounding from crag to crag with the agility of a fawn, while hiscompanion, whose aged limbs seemed ill at ease in the heavy chain armour habitually worn bytourists in that district, toiled on painfully at his side.As is always the case under such circumstances, the younger knight was the first to break the silence. A goodly pace, I trow! he exclaimed. We sped not thus in the ascent! Goodly, indeed! the other echoed with a groan. We clomb it but at three miles in the hour. And on the dead level our pace is--? the younger suggested; for he was weak in statistics, andleft all such details to his aged companion. Four miles in the hour, the other wearily replied. Not an ounce more, he added, with that loveof metaphor so common in old age, and not a farthing less! 'Twas three hours past high noon when we left our hostelry, the young man said, musingly. Weshall scarce be back by supper-time. Perchance mine host will roundly deny us all food! He will chide our tardy return, was the grave reply, and such a rebuke will be meet. A brave conceit! cried the other, with a merry laugh. And should we bid him bring us yet anothercourse, I trow his answer will be tart! We shall but get our deserts, sighed the elder knight, who had never seen a joke in his life, and wassomewhat displeased at his companion's untimely levity. 'Twill be nine of the clock, he added in anundertone, by the time we regain our hostelry. Full many a mile shall we have plodded this day! How many? How many? cried the eager youth, ever athirst for knowledge.The old man was silent.

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