at the farther
end. Here the ground broke off suddenly in a rocky pitch, down which one
scrambled to another valley or glen lying some hundred feet lower; the
cliff (for it was steep enough to merit that name) was mostly bare rock,
but here and there a little earth had caught and lodged, and a few
seeds had dropped, and a tuft of grass or a little tree had sprung up,
defying the gulf below. A few feet only from the upper level, just below
a group of palms that nodded over the brink, the stream gushed out from
the face of the rock, clear and cold. The soldiers had hollowed a little
trough to receive the trickling stream, and one had only to hold one's
pitcher under this spout for a few minutes, to have it filled with
delicious water. Rita had often come hither in the daytime, during the
week that had now passed since her arrival at the mountain camp. It was
a wild and picturesque scene at any time, but now the effect of the
intense white light, falling on splintered rock, hanging tree, and
glancing stream was magical indeed. Rita lay down on her face at the
edge of the precipice, as she had seen the soldiers do, and lowered her
jar carefully. As the water gurgled placidly into the jar, her eyes
roved here and there, taking in every detail of the marvellous scene
before her. Never, she thought, had she seen anything so beautiful, so
unearthly in its loveliness. Peace! silver peace, and silence, the
silence of--hark! what was that?

A crack, as of a twig breaking; a rustling, far below in the gorge; a
shuffling sound, as of soft shod feet pressing the soft earth. Rita
crouched flat to the ground, and, leaning over as far as she dared,
peered over the precipice. The bottom of the gorge was filled with a
mass of tall grasses and feathery blossoming shrubs, with here and there
a tree rising tall and straight. The leaves were black as jet in the
strong light. Gazing intently, she saw the branches tremble, wave,
separate; and against the dark leaves shone a gleam of metal, that
moved, and came nearer. Another and yet another; and now she could see
the dark faces, and the moon shone on the barrels of the carbines, and
made them glitter like silver.

Swiftly and noiselessly the girl drew back from the brink, crouching in
the grass till she reached the shadow of the grove. Then she rose to her
feet, still holding her jar of water carefully,--for there was no need
of wasting that,--and ran for her life.

A whispered word to the