flock, clad in a cashmere grown, with ear-rings
and necklace of pearls, diamond pins, and buttons of sapphires,
emeralds, and rubies. He would, no doubt, have believed that he had
returned to the times of Florian, and would have declared, on reaching
Paris, that he had met an Alpine shepherdess seated at the foot of
the Sabine Hill. At the end of a quarter of an hour Vampa quitted the
grotto; his costume was no less elegant than that of Teresa. He wore
a vest of garnet-colored velvet, with buttons of cut gold; a silk
waistcoat covered with embroidery; a Roman scarf tied round his neck; a
cartridge-box worked with gold, and red and green silk; sky-blue velvet
breeches, fastened above the knee with diamond buckles; garters of
deerskin, worked with a thousand arabesques, and a hat whereon hung
ribbons of all colors; two watches hung from his girdle, and a splendid
poniard was in his belt. Teresa uttered a cry of admiration. Vampa in
this attire resembled a painting by Leopold Robert, or Schnetz. He had
assumed the entire costume of Cucumetto. The young man saw the effect
produced on his betrothed, and a smile of pride passed over his
lips.--'Now,' he said to Teresa, 'are you ready to share my
fortune, whatever it may be?'--'Oh, yes!' exclaimed the young girl
enthusiastically.--'And follow me wherever I go?'--'To the world's
end.'--'Then take my arm, and let us on; we have no time to lose.'--The
young girl did so without questioning her lover as to where he was
conducting her, for he appeared to her at this moment as handsome,
proud, and powerful as a god. They went towards the forest, and soon
entered it. We need scarcely say that all the paths of the mountain were
known to Vampa; he therefore went forward without a moment's hesitation,
although there was no beaten track, but he knew his path by looking at
the trees and bushes, and thus they kept on advancing for nearly an hour
and a half. At the end of this time they had reached the thickest of the
forest. A torrent, whose bed was dry, led into a deep gorge. Vampa took
this wild road, which, enclosed between two ridges, and shadowed by the
tufted umbrage of the pines, seemed, but for the difficulties of its
descent, that path to Avernus of which Virgil speaks. Teresa had become
alarmed at the wild and deserted look of the plain around her, and
pressed closely against her guide, not uttering a syllable; but as she
saw him advance with even step and composed countenance, she