The Portland Sketch Book. Various

must have taken, until I gained the very summit of one of the hills. I looked down, and as it were floating in the haze, many feet below me, saw the face of a rock reddened by the blaze of a fire opposite. I clambered from cliff to cliff, clinging to the branches of the trees, and letting myself down by the mountain creepers that hung like thick drapery over the descent, till all at once I dropped over the very mouth of a deep cavern. A massy vine fell in heavy festoons down over the rugged pillars that formed its portal. Securing a foothold among its tendrils, concealed by its luxuriant foliage, I bent over and looked in. A large party of fierce-looking men, with pistols in their belts and cutlasses lying by them, were seated round a rude table, feasting and making merry over their wine beakers. I paid little attention to them, for against the rough wall was an old woman, and leaning upon her—as I live, it is true—was my own, my beautiful sister, she whom I had left in England! I thought my heart would have choked me, as I looked upon her pale, sorrowful face, and heard her low sobs. In my tremor the vine shook; some loose stones were started, and went clattering down into the very mouth of the cavern. Two of the pirates sprang up, and seizing a flaming brand, rushed out. The red blaze flashed over her face as they passed, and I heard them threaten her with a terrible fate, if they were discovered through her means. At the first start of the rocks I drew back into the vines, where I remained breathless and still, while they scanned the recesses of the crag. 'We were mistaken, Jacopo,' at length said one of them, 'it was probably a guana, drawn hither by the fire.' Satisfied that no one was near, they returned to their comrades, who ridiculed them for their temerity.