On coming up to the bridge, she perceived, with astonishment and dismay, that one-half of the structure, with the exception of a single string-piece, the only connection now remaining between the two sides of the river, had been swept away by the sudden flood, or the revolving trees it bore on its rushing surface. She also ascertained, from a woman still up, watching with a sick child, in a house near by, that every boat on that side the river had been either carried off by the unexpected freshet, or taken since the bridge went off, by persons still coming in, to get over to the exciting trial, which, it was understood, would occupy the whole night. After pausing a moment, the still unshaken maiden borrowed and lighted a lantern, when, without disclosing her purpose, she left the house and proceeded directly to the end of the string-piece. She first examined it carefully, and finding it broad, level, and fixed in its bed, she then mounted the dizzy beam, and stood for a moment glancing down on the wild rush of roaring waters beneath. Her movements, to which the light she carried had attracted attention, were by this time seen and comprehended by the crowd around the tavern, on the opposite side, who now came rushing to the other end of the bridge, to deter her from the bold attempt. But she heeded them not; and in a moment more was seen, with a quick, firm step, gliding over the awful chasm; in another, she had reached the end, and stood in safety on the planks beyond,--where she was greeted by the throng, who had witnessed with amazement the perilous passage, in a shout of exultation at her escape, that rose loud and wild above the roar of the waters around them. CHAPTER XXI. "So those two voices met; so Joy and Death Mingled their accents; and, amidst the rush Of many thoughts, the listening poet cried, O! thou art mighty, thou art wonderful, Mysterious Nature! Not in thy free range Of woods and wilds alone, thou blendest thus The dirge note and the song of festival; But in one _heart_, one changeful human heart,-- Ay, and within one hour of that strange world,-- Thou call'st their music forth, with all its tones To startle and to pierce!--the dying Swan's, And the glad Sky-lark's,--Triumph and Despair!" Our tale is running rapidly to a close, and we must no more loiter to gather flowers by the wayside, but depict the events which now come thickly crowding together to make up the mingled catastrophe.