the sufferer was concealed there. The gentleman sprung to the spot, pushed aside the pendant boughs, stooped low beneath the bent ivies, and came out, bearing in his hands a delicate female figure. As he turned round, and exposed her half-closed eye and white forehead to the light, he exclaimed, "Eternal God! Maria, is it you?" He then pressed her to his bosom, and sunk upon the ground, still holding her closely in his embrace.
The lady lay motionless in his arms, and I thought she was dead. Her hair hung matted and dishevelled from her head; a handkerchief, once white, but now soiled with dust, and stained with blood, was bound firmly round her head, covering her mouth and chin, and was fastened at the back of the neck, by a double knot, and secured by a ligature of cypress bark.
I knew not whom most to pity — the lady, who now lay insensible in the arms that still clasped her tenderly; or the unhappy gentleman, who having cut the cords from her limbs, and the handkerchief from her face, now sat and silently gazed upon her death-like countenance. He uttered not a sigh, and moved not a joint, but his breast heaved with agony; the sinews and muscles of his neck rose and fell, like those of a man in convulsions; all the lineaments of his face were, alternately, contracted and expanded, as if his last moments were at hand; whilst great drops of
