As Blanche sat, attentive to the narrative, that rendered the
scenes doubly interesting, and resigned to solemn emotion, while she
considered, that she was on the very ground, once polluted by these
events, her reverie was suddenly interrupted by a sound, that came
in the wind.--It was the distant bark of a watch-dog. The travellers
listened with eager hope, and, as the wind blew stronger, fancied, that
the sound came from no great distance; and, the guides having little
doubt, that it proceeded from the inn they were in search of, the Count
determined to pursue his way. The moon now afforded a stronger, though
still an uncertain light, as she moved among broken clouds; and the
travellers, led by the sound, recommenced their journey along the brow
of the precipice, preceded by a single torch, that now contended with
the moon-light; for the guides, believing they should reach the inn soon
after sun-set, had neglected to provide more. In silent caution they
followed the sound, which was heard but at intervals, and which, after
some time entirely ceased. The guides endeavoured, however, to point
their course to the quarter, whence it had issued, but the deep roaring
of a torrent soon seized their attention, and presently they came to
a tremendous chasm of the mountain, which seemed to forbid all further
progress.
Blanche alighted from her mule, as did the Count and St.
Foix, while the guides traversed the edge in search of a bridge, which,
however rude, might convey them to the opposite side, and they, at
length, confessed, what the Count had begun to suspect, that they had
been, for some time, doubtful of their way, and were now certain only,
that they had lost it.
At a little distance, was discovered a rude and dangerous passage,
formed by an enormous pine, which, thrown across the chasm, united the
opposite precipices, and which had been felled probably by the hunter,
to facilitate his chace of the izard, or the wolf. The whole party,
the guides excepted, shuddered at the prospect of crossing this alpine
bridge, whose sides afforded no kind of defence, and from which to fall
was to die.
The guides, however, prepared to lead over the mules, while
Blanche stood trembling on the brink, and listening to the roar of the
waters, which were seen descending from rocks above, overhung with lofty
pines, and thence precipitating themselves into the deep abyss, where
their white surges gleamed faintly in the moon-light. The poor animals
proceeded over this perilous bridge with instinctive caution, neither
frightened by the noise of the cataract, or deceived by the gloom, which
the impending foliage threw athwart their way. It was now, that the
solitary torch, which had been hitherto of little service, was found
to be an inestimable treasure; and Blanche, terrified, shrinking,
but endeavouring to re-collect all her firmness and presence of mind,
preceded by her lover and supported by her father, followed the red
gleam of the torch, in safety, to the opposite cliff.