Ch. 1 - Goisvintha

The mountains forming the range of Alps which border on the north-
eastern confines of Italy, were, in the autumn of the year 408, already
furrowed in numerous directions by the tracks of the invading forces of
those northern nations generally comprised under the appellation of
Goths.

In some places these tracks were denoted on either side by fallen trees,
and occasionally assumed, when half obliterated by the ravages of
storms, the appearance of desolate and irregular marshes. In other
places they were less palpable. Here, the temporary path was entirely
hidden by the incursions of a swollen torrent; there, it was faintly
perceptible in occasional patches of soft ground, or partly traceable by
fragments of abandoned armour, skeletons of horses and men, and remnants
of the rude bridges which had once served for passage across a river or
transit over a precipice.

Among the rocks of the topmost of the range of mountains immediately
overhanging the plains of Italy, and presenting the last barrier to the
exertions of a traveller or the march of an invader, there lay, at the
beginning of the fifth century, a little lake. Bounded on three sides
by precipices, its narrow banks barren of verdure or habitations, and
its dark and stagnant waters brightened but rarely by the presence of
the lively sunlight, this solitary spot--at all times mournful--
presented, on the autumn of the day when our story commences, an aspect
of desolation at once dismal to the eye and oppressive to the heart.

It was near noon; but no sun appeared in the heaven. The dull clouds,
monotonous in colour and form, hid all beauty in the firmament, and shed
heavy darkness on the earth. Dense, stagnant vapours clung to the
mountain summits; from the drooping trees dead leaves and rotten
branches sunk, at intervals, on the oozy soil, or whirled over the
gloomy precipice; and a small steady rain fell, slow and unintermitting,
upon the deserts around. Standing upon the path which armies had once
trodden, and which armies were still destined to tread, and looking
towards the solitary lake, you heard, at first, no sound but the regular
dripping of the rain-drops from rock to rock; you saw no prospect but
the motionless waters at your feet, and the dusky crags which shadowed
them from above. When, however, impressed by the mysterious loneliness
of the place, the eye grew more penetrating and the ear more attentive,
a cavern became apparent in the precipices round the lake; and, in the
intervals of the heavy rain-drops, were faintly perceptible the sounds
of a human voice.

The mouth of the cavern was partly concealed by a large stone, on which
were piled some masses of rotten brushwood, as if for the purpose of
protecting any