had formerly interrupted the
conversations of Valancourt and Emily, were more frequent today than
ever. Valancourt often dropped suddenly from the most animating vivacity
into fits of deep musing, and there was, sometimes, an unaffected
melancholy in his smile, which Emily could not avoid understanding, for
her heart was interested in the sentiment it spoke.

St. Aubert was refreshed by the shades, and they continued to saunter
under them, following, as nearly as they could guess, the direction of
the road, till they perceived that they had totally lost it. They had
continued near the brow of the precipice, allured by the scenery
it exhibited, while the road wound far away over the cliff above.
Valancourt called loudly to Michael, but heard no voice, except his own,
echoing among the rocks, and his various efforts to regain the road were
equally unsuccessful. While they were thus circumstanced, they perceived
a shepherd's cabin, between the boles of the trees at some distance, and
Valancourt bounded on first to ask assistance. When he reached it, he
saw only two little children, at play, on the turf before the door. He
looked into the hut, but no person was there, and the eldest of the boys
told him that their father was with his flocks, and their mother was
gone down into the vale, but would be back presently. As he stood,
considering what was further to be done, on a sudden he heard Michael's
voice roaring forth most manfully among the cliffs above, till he
made their echoes ring. Valancourt immediately answered the call, and
endeavoured to make his way through the thicket that clothed the steeps,
following the direction of the sound. After much struggle over brambles
and precipices, he reached Michael, and at length prevailed with him to
be silent, and to listen to him. The road was at a considerable distance
from the spot where St. Aubert and Emily were; the carriage could not
easily return to the entrance of the wood, and, since it would be very
fatiguing for St. Aubert to climb the long and steep road to the place
where it now stood, Valancourt was anxious to find a more easy ascent,
by the way he had himself passed.

Meanwhile St. Aubert and Emily approached the cottage, and rested
themselves on a rustic bench, fastened between two pines, which
overshadowed it, till Valancourt, whose steps they had observed, should
return.

The eldest of the children desisted from his play, and stood still to
observe the stran