and paced the room in the perturbation of her mind, the wind of her
drapery extinguished her lamp. As her attendant, or visitor, had paid
her last visit for the day, there seemed little chance of its being
again illumined. The miserable are always more unhappy in the dark.
Light is the greatest of comforters. And so this little misfortune
seemed to the forlorn Iduna almost overwhelming. And as she attempted
to look around, and wrung her hands in very woe, her attention was
attracted by a brilliant streak of light upon the wall, which greatly
surprised her. She groped her way in its direction, and slowly
stretching forth her hand, observed that it made its way through a
chink in the frame of one of the great mirrors which were inlaid in the
wall. And as she pressed the frame, she felt to her surprise that it
sprang forward. Had she not been very cautious the advancing mirror
would have struck her with great force, but she had presence of mind to
withdraw her hand very gradually, repressing the swiftness of the
spring. The aperture occasioned by the opening of the mirror consisted
of a recess, formed by a closed-up window. An old wooden shutter, or
blind, in so ruinous a state, that the light freely made its way, was
the only barrier against the elements. Iduna, seizing the handle which
remained, at once drew it open with little difficulty.

The captive gazed with gladdened feelings upon the free and beautiful
scene. Beneath her rose the rich and aromatic shrubs tinged with the
soft and silver light of eve: before her extended wide and fertile
champaign, skirted by the dark and undulating mountains: in the clear
sky, glittering and sharp, sparkled the first crescent of the new moon,
an auspicious omen to the Moslemin invaders.

Iduna gazed with, joy upon the landscape, and then hastily descending
from the recess, she placed her hands to her eyes, so long unaccustomed