A plain white-washed building, with few and small windows, apparently
created out of a barn or granary and an old farm-house, was encircled by a
high wall enclosing also a muddy courtyard, and a garden destined to
supply the fraternity merely with the necessary herbs and seeds on which
the meagre-fed brethren were nourished. We lifted the heavy knocker of a
rude door surmounted by a crucifix, and a lay-brother, resembling him
represented in the Opera of the Duenna, answered our modest knocking. An
order from "the family" was demanded; and for want of it we urged our
special journey (about twenty miles), names, and rank; all of which was
transmitted to the superior, while we remained some time unbidden in the
courtyard, where the only sign of life was the deep barking of an old
house-dog, who rivalled his human associates in misanthropy.
At length the creaking hinges of the door were heard again, and, with an
injunction to be sparing of speech, we were bidden to follow the animated
shadow which flitted in the owl-light before us, through various winding
passages. Had I been alone, and had that crime which has lately so shocked
humanity been then in existence, I think I should have "pulled in
resolution," and told the miserable _cicerone_ that I would call another
time. But, as companionship imparts courage, on we went, filled with vivid
recollections of Mrs. Radcliffe's romances, accompanied with an urgent
curiosity also to see, for the first time, living monks and a real
monastery.
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