would have been lost; but in that moment he loosed his hold, clasped
both hands above his head, and successfully made the leap--aware only
of the immense effort by the exhaustion which followed compelling him
to sink down on the grass, deprived even of energy to look around him.

So marvellous was the change of scenery on which his eyes unclosed,
that he started to his feet, bewildered. A gradual hill, partly
covered with rich meadow grass, and partly with corn, diversified
with foliage, sloped downwards, leading by an easy descent to a small
valley, where orange and lime trees, the pine and chestnut, palm and
cedar, grew in beautiful luxuriance. On the left was a small dwelling,
almost hidden in trees. Directly beneath him a natural fountain threw
its sparkling showers on beds of sweet-scented and gayly-colored
flowers. The hand of man had very evidently aided nature in forming
the wild yet chaste beauty of the scene; and Arthur bounded down the
slope, disturbing a few tame sheep and goats on his way, determined on
discovering the genius of the place.

No living object was visible, however; and with his usual reckless
spirit, he resolved on exploring further, ere he demanded the
hospitality of the dwelling. A narrow path led into a thicker wood,
and in the very heart of its shade stood a small edifice, the nature
of which Arthur vainly endeavored to understand. It was square, and
formed of solid blocks of cedar; neither carving nor imagery of any
kind adorned it; yet it had evidently been built with skill and care.
There was neither tower nor bell, the usual accompaniments of a
chapel, which Stanley had at first imagined it; and he stood gazing
on it more and more bewildered. At that moment, a female voice of
singular and thrilling beauty sounded from within. It was evidently
a hymn she chanted, for the strain was slow and solemn, but though