These stairs afforded a view of the road to the city. Barbara had often
used them when watching in the dusk of evening for her lover's litter or,
at a still later hour, for the torch-bearers who preceded it.

She could already walk firmly enough to mount the few rough steps which
led to the opening in the rocks and, obeying the tameless yearning of her
heart, she rose from the arm-chair and walked as rapidly as her feeble
strength permitted toward the frigidarium.

It was more difficult to traverse the path, illumined by the hot July
sun, than she had expected; but the pealing of the bells and the roar of
the cannon continued, and now it was drowned by the fanfare of the
trumpets and the shouts of the people.

All this thundering, ringing, clashing, chiming, and cheering was a
greeting to him for the sight of whom her whole being so ardently longed;
and when, halfway down the path, she felt the need of resting on a bench
under a weeping ash, she did not obey it, but forced herself to totter
on.

Drops of perspiration covered her forehead when she entered the
frigidarium, but there the most delicious coolness greeted her. Here,
too, however, she could allow herself no rest, for the boys in the top of
the beech, and some neighbouring trees, were already shouting their clear
voices hoarse and waving caps and branches.

With trembling knees she forced herself to climb one after another of the
blocks that formed the staircase. When a slight faintness attacked her,
a stalactite afforded her support, and it passed as quickly as it came.