ous heaven! How difficult it is to do good! and it is
so easy to do wrong.'

"When Paul had crossed the river, he wished to continue his journey,
carrying his sister, and believed he was able to climb in that way the
mountain of the Three Peaks, which was still at the distance of half a
league; but his strength soon failed, and he was obliged to set down his
burden, and to rest himself by her side. Virginia then said to him, 'My
dear brother the sun is going down: you have still some strength left, but
mine has quite failed: do leave me here, and return home alone to ease the
fears of our mothers.'--'Oh, no,' said Paul, 'I will not leave you. If
night surprises us in this wood, I will light a fire, and bring down
another palm-tree: you shall eat the cabbage; and I will form a covering of
the leaves to shelter you.' In the mean time, Virginia being a little
rested, pulled from the trunk of an old tree, which hung over the bank of
the river, some long leaves of hart's tongue, which grew near its root.
With those leaves she made a sort of buskin, with which she covered her
feet, that were bleeding from the sharpness of the stony paths; for, in her
eager desire to do good, she had forgot to put on her shoes. Feeling her
feet cooled by the freshness of the leaves, she broke off a branch of
bamboo, and continued her walk leaning with one hand on the staff, and with
the other on Paul.

"They walked on slowly through the woods, but from the height of the trees,
and the thickness of their foliage, they soon lost sight of the mountain of
the Tree Peaks, by which they had directed their course, and even of the
sun, which was now setting. At length they wandered without perceiving it,
from the beaten path in which they had hitherto walked, and found
themselves in a labyrinth of trees and rocks, which appeared to have no
opening. Paul made Virginia sit down, while he ran backwards and forwards,
half frantic, in search of a path which might lead them out of this thick
wood; but all his researches were in vain. He climbed to the top of a tree,
from whence he hoped at least to discern the mountain of the Three Peaks;
but all he could perceive around him were the tops of trees, some of which
were gilded by the last beams of the setting sun. Already the shadows of
the mountains were spread over the forests in the valleys. The wind ceased,
as it usually does, at the evening hour. The most profound silence reigned
in those awful solitudes,