those whom they had loved on earth, and poured into the bosom, to the dictates of which, in this world, they had listened with idolatrous attention, that tranquillity and confidence in the goodness of the Creator, which is necessary for us to experience ere we go to the next. Such tranquillity felt Madame de St. Irvyne: she tried to stifle the ideas which arose within her mind; but the more she strove to repress them, in the more vivid characters were they imprinted on the imagination.
Now had they gained the summit of the mountain, when, suddenly, a crash announced that the carriage had given way.
"What is to be done?" inquired Eloise. The postilion appeared to take no notice of her question. "What is to be done?" again she inquired.
"Why, I scarcely know," answered the postilion; "but 'tis impossible to proceed."
"Is there no house nearer than"
"Oh yes," replied he; "here is a house quite near, but a little out of the way; and, perhaps, Ma'am'selle will not"
"Oh, lead on, lead on to it," quickly rejoined Eloise.
They followed the postilion, and soon arrived at the house. It was large and plain; and although there were lights in some of the windows, it bore an indefinable appearance of desolation.
In a large hall sat three or four men, whose marked countenances almost announced their profession to be bandits. One of superior and commanding figure, whispering to the rest, and himself advancing with the utmost and most unexpected politeness, accosted the travellers. For the ideas with which the countenance of this man inspired Eloise she in vain endeavoured to account. It appeared to her that she had seen him before; that the deep tone of his voice was known to her; and that eye, scintillating with a coruscation of mingled sternness and surprise, found some counterpart
