companions! I remained on my knees, my face buried in my hands. I
forced myself into comparative calmness, and strove to preserve the
equilibrium of my distracted mind. Hush! What exquisite far-off
floating voice of cheer was that? I raised my head and listened,
entranced!

"Jug, jug, Jug! lodola, lodola! trill-lil-lil! sweet, sweet, sweet!"

It was a nightingale. Familiar, delicious, angel-throated bird! How
I blessed thee in that dark hour of despair! How I praised God for
thine innocent existence! How I sprung up and laughed and wept for
joy, as, all unconscious of me, thou didst shake out a shower of
pearly warblings on the breast of the soothed air! Heavenly
messenger of consolation!--even now I think of thee with tenderness-
-for thy sweet sake all birds possess me as their worshiper;
humanity has grown hideous in my sight, but the singing-life of the
woods and hills--how pure, how fresh!--the nearest thing to
happiness on this side heaven!

A rush of strength and courage invigorated me. A new idea entered my
brain. I determined to follow the voice of the nightingale. It sung
on sweetly, encouragingly--and I began afresh my journeyings through
the darkness. I fancied that the bird was perched on one of the
trees outside the entrance of the vault, and that if I tried to get
within closer hearing of its voice, I should most likely be thus
guided to the very staircase I had been so painfully seeking. I
stumbled along slowly. I felt feeble, and my limbs shook under me.
This time nothing impeded my progress; the nightingale's liquid
notes floated nearer and nearer, and hope, almost exhausted, sprung
up again in my heart. I was scarcely conscious of my own movements.