rom their base, and stretched their barren points to the
clouds, unvaried with woods, and uncheered even by a hunter's cabin.
Sometimes, indeed, a gigantic larch threw its long shade over the
precipice, and here and there a cliff reared on its brow a monumental
cross, to tell the traveller the fate of him who had ventured thither
before. This spot seemed the very haunt of banditti; and Emily, as she
looked down upon it, almost expected to see them stealing out from
some hollow cave to look for their prey. Soon after an object not less
terrific struck her,--a gibbet standing on a point of rock near the
entrance of the pass, and immediately over one of the crosses she had
before observed. These were hieroglyphics that told a plain and dreadful
story. She forbore to point it out to St. Aubert, but it threw a gloom
over her spirits, and made her anxious to hasten forward, that
they might with certainty reach Rousillon before night-fall. It was
necessary, however, that St. Aubert should take some refreshment, and,
seating themselves on the short dry turf, they opened the basket of
provisions, while

by breezy murmurs cool'd,
Broad o'er THEIR heads the verdant cedars wave,
And high palmetos lift their graceful shade.
-----THEY draw
Ethereal soul, there drink reviving gales
Profusely breathing from the piney groves,
And vales of fragrance; there at a distance hear
The roaring floods, and cataracts.*
*Thomson

St. Aubert was revived by rest, and by the serene air of this summit;
and Valancourt was so charmed with all around, and with the conversation
of his companions, that he seemed to have forgotten he had any further
to go. Having concluded their simple repast, they gave a long farewell
look to the scene, and again began to ascend. St. Aubert rejoiced when
he reached the carriage, which Emily entered with him; but Valancourt,
willing to take a more extensive view of the enchanting country, into
which they were about to descend, than he could do from a carriage,
loosened his dogs, and once more bounded with them along the banks of
the road. He often quitted it for points that promised a wider prospect,
and the slow pace, at which the mules travelled, allowed him to overtake
them with ease. Whenever a scene of uncommon magnificence appeared, he
hastened to inform St. Aubert, who, though he was too much tired to
walk himself, sometimes made the chaise wait, while Emily went to the
neighbouring cliff.