We diverge from the highway into a mountain road, which resembles the body of a serpent when in motion, going literally up one elevation, and down another.

To the right, deep glens, gullies, and ravines; but the darkness with which they are now filled is thick and impervious to the eye, and nothing breaks the silence about us but the rush of the mountain torrent over some jutting precipice below us.

To the left all is gloom, as it would be even were there light to guide the sight, because on that side spreads a black, interminable moor.

As it is we can see nothing; yet as we get along we find that we are not alone.
Voices reach our ears; but they are not, as usual, the voices of mirth and laughter.

These which we hear--and they are not far from us--are grave and serious; the utterance thick and low, as if those from whom they proceed were expressing a sense of sympathy or horror.