A row of bright copper casseroles hanging against the wall--like the burnished shields along the sides of the ancient triremes, if this comparison be not too noble for such a lowly subject--gleamed vaguely in the flashing of the red fire-light, and a large, half-empty wine-skin lying on the floor in one corner looked like a beheaded body carelessly flung down there.
Certainly not a cheerful looking place, but, the fire being newly replenished burned brightly, and our weary travellers were glad to bask in its genial warmth.
At the end of one of the wooden benches a little girl was sitting, apparently sound asleep.

She was a poor, thin, little creature, with a mass of long, tangled, black hair, which hung down over her face and almost concealed it, as she sat with her head drooping forward on her breast.

Her scanty clothing was tattered and dirty, her feet and poor, thin, little legs brown and bare, and covered with scratches--some still bleeding which bore witness to much running through the thorny furze thickets.
Isabelle, who chanced to sit down near her, cast many pitying glances upon this forlorn little figure, but took care not to disturb the quiet sleep she seemed to be enjoying in her uncomfortable resting-place.
After a little, when she had turned to speak to Serafina, who sat beside her, the child woke with a start, and pushing back the mass of dishevelled hair revealed a sad little face, so thin that the cheek bones were painfully prominent, and pale to ghastliness.

A pair of magnificent, dark brown eyes, with heavy sweeping lashes, looked preternaturally large in her woe-begone little countenance, and at this moment were filled with wondering admiration, mingled with fierce covetousness, as she stared at Serafina's mock jewels--and more especially at Isabelle's row of pearl beads.

She seemed fairly dazzled by these latter, and gazed at them fixedly in a sort of ecstasy--having evidently never seen anything like them before, and probably thinking they must be of immense value.