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"I come from Liscate," replied the youth, who, in the mean while

had prepared his answer. He had, indeed, come from that place, as

he had passed through it. He had learned its name from a

traveller who had mentioned it, as the first village on his road

to Gorgonzola.

"Oh!" said his interrogator, "I wish you had come from Milan. But

patience-and did you hear nothing from Milan at Liscate?"

"It is very possible that others knew something," replied our

mountaineer; "but I have heard nothing."

The inquisitive person rejoined his companions.

"How far is it from this to the Adda?" said Renzo to the host, in

a low careless tone, as he set before him something to eat.

"To the Adda? to cross the river?"

"That is-yes-to the Adda."

"Would you cross the bridge of Cassano, or the ferry of

Canonica?"

"Where are they?-I ask simply from curiosity."

"Ah! I name them because they are the places chosen by honest

people, who are willing to give an account of themselves."

"That is right. And how far are they?"