The place seemed the very Eden for Cupid’s votaries, the silence and solitude the very sanctuary for love’s impassioned confessions, and Harry wondered if there were no legend connected with the spot. Whilst musing upon the scene, a solitary bird came floating along leisurely, balancing its way in the air, and took its station on the bough of a tree near him. The stillness was interrupted; for it commenced gayly to warble its evening lullaby. Harry had lingered without observing the thick mass of clouds that hovered over him, at first almost imperceptible, but now gradually assuming a threatening aspect, whose portentous appearance gave signs of bursting into storm; and twilight, which in a mountainous country is so rapidly succeeded by darkness, was fading away beneath the sable veil of night. The wind commenced sighing along the ground in low, sullen murmurs, then all at once rushing into a gust, swept like the roar of artillery through the trees, bending and tearing off their topmost branches. To seek the nearest shelter was the first impulse of our hero, as the quick splashing sound of rain-drops fell upon the ground, and sharp flashes of lightning, followed by the loud thunder, began to chase each other through the black clouds that now seemed to cover the boundless expanse of heaven. He paced rapidly along the single narrow precipitous path, nearly overgrown with thorns and bushes, and had progressed but a short distance, when he found he had mistaken his way, for the passage became impregnable; rocks seemed piled one upon another, and innumerable clusters of wild vines and thistles were so thick as to defy intrusion. It was growing intensely dark, and the rain commenced falling in torrents. The rumbling sound of the water as it dashed down the mountain—the angry whistle of the wind as it swept along in destruction and fury, while the arrowy bolts of lightning lighted up the darkness, and the deep thunder that rocked the earth, like a tremendous cannonading, as clash after clash rent the clouds, blended with the low muttered growls of the wild beasts, made it an awful night, and would have sent a chill through the stoutest heart. An awe as of some mighty presence fell upon the spirits of Harry as he watched the progress of the terrific storm. Presently a bolt of lightning more vivid than the rest flashed near him, like the spirit of destruction, tearing a large tree to atoms. He sunk back appalled, and a sickening sensation of loneliness and dread came over him, as he strained his sight in vain to catch, through the thick and almost impenetrable gloom, a glimpse of some opening by which he could leave this fearful spot. Presently he thought he heard the report of a gun, and assuming a listening altitude, he distinctly heard, during the lulls of the now fast subsiding storm, a succession of firing. Although aware of the proximity of friends, yet it was difficult to ascertain their