times
interrupted the silence, which the rest of the party seemed by mutual
consent to preserve, remarking and pointing out to Blanche the most
striking effect of the hour upon the scenery; while Blanche, whose
apprehensions were beguiled by the conversation of her lover, yielded
to the taste so congenial to his, and they conversed in a low restrained
voice, the effect of the pensive tranquillity, which twilight and the
scene inspired, rather than of any fear, that they should be heard.
But, while the heart was thus soothed to tenderness, St. Foix gradually
mingled, with his admiration of the country, a mention of his affection;
and he continued to speak, and Blanche to listen, till the mountains,
the woods, and the magical illusions of twilight, were remembered no
more.

The shadows of evening soon shifted to the gloom of night, which was
somewhat anticipated by the vapours, that, gathering fast round the
mountains, rolled in dark wreaths along their sides; and the guides
proposed to rest, till the moon should rise, adding, that they thought a
storm was coming on. As they looked round for a spot, that might afford
some kind of shelter, an object was perceived obscurely through the
dusk, on a point of rock, a little way down the mountain, which they
imagined to be a hunter's or a shepherd's cabin, and the party, with
cautious steps, proceeded towards it. Their labour, however, was not
rewarded, or their apprehensions soothed; for, on reaching the object of
their search, they discovered a monumental cross, which marked the spot
to have been polluted by murder.

The darkness would not permit them to read the inscription; but the
guides knew this to be a cross, raised to the memory of a Count de
Beliard, who had been murdered here by a horde of banditti, that had
infested this part of the Pyrenees, a few years before; and the uncommon
size of the monument seemed to justify the supposition, that it was
erected for a person of some distinction. Blanche shuddered, as she
listened to some horrid particulars of the Count's fate, which one of
the guides related in a low, restrained tone, as if the sound of his own
voice frightened him; but, while they lingered at the cross, attending
to his narrative, a flash of lightning glanced upon the rocks, thunder
muttered at a distance, and the travellers, now alarmed, quitted this
scene of solitary horror, in search of shelter.

Having regained their former track, the guides, as they