u that I strike this blow, for you that I tread this stony way.
It is sweet to think of it. I go on as blithely as ever a village
maiden stepped forward to her wedding. The way is as sweet to me as
a garden of roses. Your face, too, is dying out of my thoughts, Paul.
Farewell! Farewell!

* * * * *

The valley of the shadow of death! Did any one speak those words? What
an evil fancy! Yet the air seemed full of whisperings. The valley
of the shadow of death! Yes! it might be that, and these cold, grey
boulders the spirits of the evil ones risen up out of Hades. Is there
a hell, I wonder? How chill and dark the air seems! There is death
about!

* * * * *

The sound of a single bell broke in upon my thoughts. I raised
my eyes. My journey was accomplished. Before me was a grim, stern
building, and attached to it a chapel. It was the monastery of St.
Bernard.

CHAPTER XXXI

"ADREA'S DIARY"

"Farewell to the dead ashes of life."

The path which I had been following led straight up to the bare,
arched door of the building. I had reached it unmolested, and rang the
bell.

What a hoarse, clanging sound! I shivered as I stood there listening
to its gloomy echoes until they died away. No one came. The place
seemed wrapped in an austere silence. I listened, but I could hear no
sound within; only the dull, melancholy sighing of the wind amongst a
sickly avenue of firs behind.

I stretched out my hand, and rang again. Almost before the echoes had
died away I heard footsteps within. A heavy bolt was withdrawn, and
a dark-robed monk stood on the threshold before me. He recoiled for a
moment at seeing a woman, and I thought that he would have closed the
door, but he did not.

"What would you have at this hour, sister?" he asked sternly. "The
chapel is closed, and morning is the time for dispensing charity."

"I have come in search of a priest who is only a visitor here," I
said. "Father Adrian he is called!"

He seemed still indisposed to admit me. "Is your business urgent?" he
asked doubtfully. "Father Adrian is at his devotions, and must not be
lightly disturbed."

"It is urgent," I answered.

He beckoned me to follow him, and in silence led me a few yards down a
bare stone corridor. Then he threw open the door of a small room, and
bade me enter.

"This is the guest-chamber," he said. "Wait here, and I will summon
Father Adrian!"

He clo