I first saw the man who kept his money in a box in the midst of the ravine of the Via Mala.  I interchanged a few words with him or with his wife at the hospice, at the top of the Splugen; ...

 I first saw the man who kept his money in a box in the midst of the ravine of the Via Mala.  I interchanged a few words with him or with his wife at the hospice, at the top of the Splugen; and I became acquainted with him in the courtyard of Conradi’s hotel at Chiavenna.  It was, however, afterwards at Bellaggio, on the lake of Como, that that acquaintance ripened into intimacy.  A good many years have rolled by since then, and I believe this little episode in his life may be told without pain to the feelings of any one.