The darkness would not permit them to read the inscription; but the
guides knew this to be a cross, raised to the memory of a Count de
Beliard, who had been murdered here by a horde of banditti, that had
infested this part of the Pyrenees, a few years before; and the uncommon
size of the monument seemed to justify the supposition, that it was
erected for a person of some distinction. Blanche shuddered, as she
listened to some horrid particulars of the Count's fate, which one of
the guides related in a low, restrained tone, as if the sound of his own
voice frightened him; but, while they lingered at the cross, attending
to his narrative, a flash of lightning glanced upon the rocks, thunder
muttered at a distance, and the travellers, now alarmed, quitted this
scene of solitary horror, in search of shelter.
Having regained their former track, the guides, as they passed on,
endeavoured to interest the Count by various stories of robbery, and
even of murder, which had been perpetrated in the very places they
must unavoidably pass, with accounts of their own dauntless courage
and wonderful escapes. The chief guide, or rather he, who was the most
completely armed, drawing forth one of the four pistols, that were
tucked into his belt, swore, that it had shot three robbers within the
year. He then brandished a clasp-knife of enormous length, and was
going to recount the wonderful execution it had done, when St. Foix,
perceiving, that Blanche was terrified, interrupted him. The Count,
meanwhile, secretly laughing at the terrible histories and extravagant
boastings of the man, resolved to humour him, and, telling Blanche in
a whisper, his design, began to recount some exploits of his own, which
infinitely exceeded any related by the guide.
To these surprising circumstances he so artfully gave the colouring of
truth, that the courage of the guides was visibly affected by them,
who continued silent, long after the Count had ceased to speak. The
loquacity of the chief hero thus laid asleep, the vigilance of his eyes
and ears seemed more thoroughly awakened, for he listened, with much
appearance of anxiety, to the deep thunder, which murmured at intervals,
and often paused, as the breeze, that was now rising, rushed among the
pines. But, when he made a sudden halt before a tuft of cork trees,
that projected over the road, and drew forth a pistol, before he would
venture to brave the banditti which might lurk behind it, the Count
could no longer refrain from laughter.
Having now, however, arrived at a level spot, somewhat sheltered from
the air, by overhanging cliffs and by a wood of larch, that rose over
the precipice on the left, and the guides being yet ignorant how far
they were from the inn, the travellers determined to rest, till the moon
should rise, or the storm disperse. Blanche, recalled to a sense of the
present moment, looked on the surrounding gloom, with terror; but giving
her hand to St. Foix, she alighted, and the whole party entered a kind
of cave, if such it could be called, which was only a shallow cavity,
formed by the curve of impending rocks. A light being struck, a fire was
kindled, whose blaze afforded some degree of cheerfulness, and no
small comfort, for, though the day had been hot, the night air of this
mountainous region was chilling; a fire was partly necessary also to
keep off the wolves, with which those wilds were infested.