continued to listen, till timidity succeeded to surprise and delight;
a timidity, increased by a remembrance of the pencilled lines she had
formerly seen, and she hesitated whether to proceed, or to return.

While she paused, the music ceased; and, after a momentary
hesitation, she re-collected courage to advance to the fishing-house,
which she entered with faltering steps, and found unoccupied! Her
lute lay on the table; every thing seemed undisturbed, and she began
to believe it was another instrument she had heard, till she
remembered, that, when she followed M. and Madame St. Aubert from
this spot, her lute was left on a window seat. She felt alarmed, yet
knew not wherefore; the melancholy gloom of evening, and the profound
stillness of the place, interrupted only by the light trembling of
leaves, heightened her fanciful apprehensions, and she was desirous
of quitting the building, but perceived herself grow faint, and sat
down. As she tried to recover herself, the pencilled lines on the
wainscot met her eye; she started, as if she had seen a stranger;
but, endeavouring to conquer the tremor of her spirits, rose, and
went to the window. To the lines before noticed she now perceived
that others were added, in which her name appeared.

Though no longer suffered to doubt that they were addressed to
herself, she was as ignorant, as before, by whom they could be
written. While she mused, she thought she heard the sound of a step
without the building, and again alarmed, she caught up her lute, and
hurried away. Monsieur and Madame St. Aubert she found in a little
path that wound along the sides of the glen.

Having reached a green summit, shadowed by palm-trees, and
overlooking the vallies and plains of Gascony, they seated themselves