"They ring for breakfast, Brother Anastasius," said he; "let us hasten before Brother Baptist, who is ever the first at the table, appropriates the best morsels and lays them on his plate. Come, come, brother; after breakfast we will go into the garden and water our flowers. We have a lovely day and ample time--it will be three hours before mass." "Come, then, brother, and may your dangerous prophecies and expectations not be fulfilled!" The two monks stepped into the cloister, and a deep and unbroken silence reigned around, interrupted only by the sweet songs of the birds and the light movements of their wings. The building was in the noble style of the middle ages, and stood out in grand and harmonious proportions against the deep blue of the horizon. It was, without doubt, to observe the beauty and grandeur of this structure, that two travellers who had toiled slowly up the path leading from the village of Camens, now paused and looked with wondering glances at the cloister. "There must be a splendid view from the tower," said the oldest and smaller of the travellers to his tall and slender companion, who was gazing with rapture at the enchanting landscape. "It must indeed be a glorious prospect," he replied with a respectful bow. "It affords a splendid opportunity to look far and wide over the land, and to see if the Austrian troops are really on the march," said the other, with a stern and somewhat hasty tone. "Let us enter and ascend the tower." The youth bowed silently, and followed, at some little distance, the hasty steps of his companion. They reached the platform, and stood for a moment to recover breath. "We have reached the summit--if we were only safely down again." "We can certainly descend; the question is, under what circumstances?" "You mean, whether free or as prisoners? Well, I see no danger; we are completely disguised, and no one knows me here. The Abbot Amandus is dead, and the new abbot is unknown to me. Let us make haste; ring the bell." The youth was in the act of obeying, when suddenly a voice cried out: "Don't sound the bell--I will come myself and open the door." A man had been standing at the upper story, by an open window, and heard the conversation of the two travellers. He drew in his head hastily and disappeared. "It seems I am not so unknown as I supposed," said the smaller of the two gentlemen, with a quiet smile. "Who knows whether these monks are reliable and true?" whispered the other. "You certainly would not doubt these exalted servants of God? I, for my part, shall believe in their sincerity till they convince me of the contrary. Ah! the door is opened." The small door was indeed open, and a monk came out, and hastily drew near to the two travellers. "I am the Abbot Tobias Stusche; I am also a man wholly devoted to the King of Prussia, though he does not know me." The abbot laid such a peculiar expression upon these last words, that the strangers were forced to remark them.