She was dressed in a dark-coloured corset fitting close to the body, and
a hood of the same materials. Her hair was a deep jet, and fantastically
twisted about her face. She was of low stature, but not bowed by
decrepitude or age. Her cheek was hollow, and her complexion swarthy,
but her eye grew unnaturally bright, blazing out with a fierceness,
intense as though the fire within were visible through these chinks and
crevices of the soul's tenement.
Though the storm was rapidly approaching she still kept her place,
unawed by the rude elements, and seeming to surfer but little
inconvenience from the shower, now descending with great vigour. The
path was narrow, and a thick underwood skirted the road, so that for the
stranger to pass was impossible, unless his opponent chose to take up a
more favourable position. But the sudden burst of a terrific
thunder-clap, which seemed to roll in a continuous peal above them, made
him less ceremonious on this head than the laws of gallantry might
warrant. He drew nearer to the female, with the intention of seeking a
passage on that side where the least disturbance would be given.
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