do not turn back! Donatello will be a sufficient guardian for Miriam and me."
The sculptor was a good deal mortified, and perhaps a little angry; but he knew Hilda's mood of gentle decision and independence too well not to obey her. He therefore suffered the fearless maiden to return alone.
Meanwhile, Miriam had not noticed the departure of the rest of the company; she remained on the edge of the precipice and Donatello along with her.
"It would be a fatal fall, still," she said to herself, looking over the parapet, and shuddering as her eye measured the depth. "Yes; surely yes! Even without the weight of an overburdened heart, a human body would fall heavily enough upon those stones to shake all its joints asunder. How soon it would be over!"
Donatello, of whose presence she was possibly not aware now pressed closer to her side; and he, too, like Miriam bent over the low parapet and trembled violently. Yet he seemed to feel that perilous fascination which haunts the brow of precipices, tempting the unwary one to fling himself over for the very horror of the thing, for, after drawing hastily back, he again looked down, thrusting himself out farther than before. He then stood silent a brief space, struggling, perhaps, to make himself conscious of the historic associations of the scene.
"What are you thinking of, Donatello?" asked Miriam.
"Who are they," said he, looking earnestly in her face, "who have been flung over here in days gone by?"
"Men that cumbered the world," she replied. "Men
