eal.

It was upon that same evening, and while the earlier stars yet shone
over the city, that Walter de Montreal, returning, alone, to the convent
then associated with the church of Santa Maria del Priorata (both of
which belonged to the Knights of the Hospital, and in the first of which
Montreal had taken his lodgment), paused amidst the ruins and desolation
which lay around his path. Thou little skilled in the classic memories
and associations of the spot, he could not but be impressed with the
surrounding witnesses of departed empire; the vast skeleton, as it were,
of the dead giantess.

"Now," thought he, as he gazed around upon the roofless columns and
shattered walls, everywhere visible, over which the starlight shone,
ghastly and transparent, backed by the frowning and embattled fortresses
of the Frangipani, half hid by the dark foliage that sprung up amidst
the very fanes and palaces of old--Nature exulting over the frailer
Art; "now," thought he, "bookmen would be inspired, by this scene, with
fantastic and dreaming visions of the past. But to me these monuments of
high ambition and royal splendour create only images of the future. Rome
may yet be, with her seven-hilled diadem, as Rome has been before, the
prize of the strongest hand and the boldest warrior,--revived, not by
her own degenerate sons, but the infused blood of a new race. William
the Bastard could scarce have found the hardy Englishers so easy a
conquest as Walter the Well-born may find these eunuch Romans. And which
conquest were the more glorious,--the barbarous Isle, or the Metropolis
of the World? Short step from the general to the podesta--shorter step
from the podesta to the king!"

While thus revolving his wild, yet not altogether chimerical ambition,
a quick light step was heard amidst the long herbage, and, looking up,
Montreal perceived the figure of a tall female descending from that
part of the hill then covered by many convents, towards the base of the
Aventine. She supported her steps with a long staff, and moved with such
elasticity and erectness, that now, as her face became visible by the
starlight, it was surprising to perceive that it was the face of one
advanced in years,--a harsh, proud countenance, withered, and deeply
wrinkled, but not without a certain regularity of outline.

"Merciful Virgin!" cried Montreal, starting back as that face gleamed
upon him: "is it possible? It is she:--it is--"

He sprung forward, and st