The full moon was now at the zenith, and shone brightly down upon a scene which was as great a curiosity in its way as the Natural Bridge itself. It seemed a fort of Nature’s own forming. Saucer-shaped was the top of the mountain, and surrounded by a natural breastwork of earth and rocks, in the clefts of which grew sturdy evergreens. Within this naturally enclosed space, which was about a mile in circumference, was a picturesque spectacle—groups of men, droves of horses, and many campfires. But here seemed no sign of shelter for man or beast. Colonel Goldsborough had arrived just before Corsoni and Alberta. He had unbound his captive, who was seated in sulky silence on the ground, and he now turned to receive the Free Sword. “Welcome to the Devil’s Retreat, for such is the delectable name by which this natural fortification goes. See, your men are here before you, and they are already preparing for the comfort of Madam,” he said. Corsoni laughed and thanked his host, and then alighted and lifted his wife off her horse. “You must be nearly dead with fatigue, beloved,” he whispered, tenderly, as he took a blanket from one of his men, threw it to the ground, and gently seated Alberta on it. Meanwhile, some of Corsoni’s band busied themselves with cutting down saplings, driving stakes into the ground, weaving walls, and roofing in a temporary shelter for Corsoni’s beloved wife—beloved by all the band for her devotion to their chief and their cause. “Come sit on this blanket with me, Elfie. You will take cold on the bare ground, child,” said Alberta, kindly. And the captive, who felt a sort of limited sense of safety in the presence of the chieftainess, came and sat down beside her. When Alberta’s pretty, picturesque hut of fragrant evergreens was finished, Haddycraff came to her and said: “Your shelter is ready, lady. Come into it. Abershaw will bring you tea.” Alberta thanked her faithful follower, and gave her hand to her female companion, saying: “Come, Elfie; you shall share my hut, and rest under my protection to-night as last night.” And Elfie, whose young joints, to be sure, were stiff with long constraint and hard riding, gladly availed herself of Alberta’s aid in rising. “Ah, the wretch! what pain he has put me to, with all the rest of my wrongs! Every bone in my body aches as if I were a hundred years old. Oh! that fate would turn the tables and give that man over to _my_ tender mercies for one day!” she cried, as she struggled painfully to her feet. “Fate may well do so, Elfie, and if it should, you will remember nothing of Albert but that he was the lover and the beloved of your earliest youth,” said Alberta, in a low and gentle voice, as she led the way taken by Haddycraff towards her hut. It was built against the highest part of that natural wall of rocks, and it was sheltered from the north wind by a thick clump of cedars that grew above them.