CHAPTER IV.

The Captive.

What soul soe'er in any language can

Speak heav'n like her's is my soul's countryman.

CRASHAW.

WHILE the travellers had been surveying the rocky castle of Artemita from a distance, its interior had been the scene of unusual bustle. A large body of Scythians had returned from a distant expedition; their weary horses might be seen foddered in every direction about the town; while they had themselves collected within the courts of the fortress. They seemed to be looking out for some one; and when at length they ceased to expect his arrival, they gathered round various fires, where they spent a large part of the night in noisy carousals. Their loud mirth was a singular contrast to the still and even melancholy grandeur of a vast pile of building which formed one side of the court, and which, lighted up at times by the flickering of their fires, shewed worn and channelled walls which had stood for centuries; while so soon as the fires decayed, it loomed forth a black and undistinguishable mass against the sky. This building was continued on the other side to the very verge of a precipice of prodigious height, which

overhung the town; westward lay the lake, too distant to be seen in the darkness, yet likely to become visible soon after midnight, when the rising moon would probably shed a silver light on the summit of the snowy heights beyond, and reveal something of the exceeding beauty of the valley which lay beneath them. So, perhaps, thought two females, who might be seen at times looking down upon the rude forms of the Scythians, when the glancing of the fires shed an occasional light upon them, and then turning towards another window of the same apartment, which, being above the sheer descent of the precipice, looked forth at present into nothing but the fearfulness of a black abyss. One of them had the countenance and manner of the West; the other was obviously of Scythian origin. They talked as friends; but the Scythian maiden had that sort of respect for her companion which might be supposed to arise from the consciousness of inferior knowledge and civilisation. "Our chieftain will not come to-night," she said, after looking for some time through the latticed window; so that to-night, at all events,

you need not fear.

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Yet why should you be so unwilling to wed the bravest warrior on the plains of Scythia? Which of the daughters of our tribe would not think it an honour?"

"Kind maiden," replied Flavia, for she was the person addressed, "I long for my own land, and for those of my own faith. Have I not told you that I worship the Christian's God, of which your tribe

E

knows nothing? And for your wild life, were it not that my faith in God forbids, I would rather throw myself down yon viewless precipice than share it."

"Say not so," said her companion; "do you not know that my cousin has told the Armenians where you are, and that your countrymen will surely seek to ransom you?"

"Alas! what hope of it, since to-morrow is to carry me into distant slavery, where the very name of a Roman is unknown?" So saying, Flavia threw herself down in an agony of grief; and her companion had enough of natural feeling not to break in upon sorrow which it was impossible to alleviate. She left the room; and meeting some of her countrymen, learnt that their chief would probably arrive in the morning, and take immediate steps for their departure. Flavia was thus left to the solitude which she better liked than any thing else which her captivity allowed; and when she had at length recovered her self-command, she seated herself at a window furthest removed from the revelry of the Scythians, and sat waiting with calm dejection for the rising of the moon. "So this," she said to herself, "is the last night that I shall enjoy this prospect, which, even in my captivity, I have learnt to love. Yet why does my faith so totally fail me? Why may not the God whom I have implored deliver me even yet from my oppressors? I know that the lake lies below me, and the verdant valley before it, though the moon has not yet risen to discover its beauty.

God's providence may in like manner be working for my good; though as yet His gracious purposes are hidden under a veil of equal darkness.”

The thought seemed to give her comfort, and to enable her to have recourse to what had been her ordinary occupation at this solitary hour. Undisturbed, unregarded, did this Christian maiden lift up her voice to God in this distant land; and no less comfort did she experience than the prophet-courtier when he supplicated for his people beside the streams of Assyria. At length the moon ascended, and discovered the full beauty of the scene before her. To calm her feelings, she began to sing in a low voice some verses which she had either composed, or which the scene suggested to her.

Soft on my ear the distant waters roll,
As pity's accents on a wounded soul;
While here by eve's serenest light I scan
This scene too lovely for offending man.
Say, was it lovelier then that garden-ground
Of Eden's rivers four encompassed round;

Say, were its groves more green, its skies more bright,
That primal dwelling of divine delight?

Oh, might the beautiful of earth recall

What once our fathers lost by Adam's fall;
Might but to-morrow's sacred hours display

That innocence to heaven which fled away;
Calmed by its power, our troubled hearts should sleep,
As in the moon's pale beam yon trembling deep.

So were some portion ours of heavenly bliss,

Nor needed fairer Paradise than this.

Flavia had scarcely ceased, when she fancied that,

from the very heart of the rock beneath her feet, a hollow voice uttered her own name. She started at the strangeness of the summons: a moment before, and she had thought that the wretchedness of her condition could not be increased; but now her solitary situation, and the stories prevalent respecting that castle, filled her with unwonted awe. The castle was said to have been the work of that imperious woman Semiramis, who was accustomed to retire to it, for what purposes no one knew; and it was certain that sounds were at times heard from the solid rock underneath its roots, which could be traced to no human inhabitant. Flavia endeavoured to recover herself; some fancy of the brain, she thought, had taken possession of her at the unusual words of her native language, even though proceeding from her own lips. After a moment she cast a wary glance around, as a startled child gives a furtive look at the object which has alarmed him. The moonlight fell full upon the central portion of the room, and for a moment she doubted whether her senses were failing her. But no; she distinctly saw the floor open, and a figure in human shape rise erect out of the ground. A moment more, and she gave a slight shriek and fainted.