and there was eeriness in the vanishing vista that showed
nothing beyond. When the wind of the twilight sighed in gusts through
its moanful crowd of fluttered leaves; or when the wind of the winter
was tormenting the ancient haggard boughs, and the trees looked as if
they were weary of the world, and longing after the garden of God; yet
more when the snow lay heavy upon their branches, sorely trying their
aged strength to support its oppression, and giving the onlooker a
vague sense of what the world would be if God were gone from it--then
the old avenue was a place from which one with more imagination than
courage would be ready to haste away, and seek instead the abodes of
men. But Donal, though he dearly loved his neighbour, and that in the
fullest concrete sense, was capable of loving the loneliest spots, for
in such he was never alone.

It was altogether a neglected place. Long grass grew over its floor
from end to end--cut now and then for hay, or to feed such animals as
had grass in their stalls. Along one border, outside the trees, went a
footpath--so little used that, though not quite conquered by the turf,
the long grass often met over the top of it. Finding it so lonely,
Donal grew more and more fond of it. It was his outdoor study, his
proseuche {Compilers note: pi, rho, omicron, sigma, epsilon upsilon,
chi, eta with stress--[outdoor] place of prayer}--a little aisle of the
great temple! Seldom indeed was his reading or meditation there
interrupted by sight of human being.

About a month after he had taken up his abode at the castle, he was
lying one day in the grass with a book-companion, under the shade of
one of the largest of its beeches, when he felt through the ground ere
he heard through the air the feet of an approaching horse. As they
came near, he raised his head to see. His unexpected appearance
startled the horse, his rider nearly lost his seat, and did lose his
temper. Recovering the former, and holding the excited animal, which
would have been off at full speed, he urged him towards Donal, whom he
took for a tramp. He was rising--deliberately, that he might not do
more mischief, and was yet hardly on his feet, when the horse, yielding
to the spur, came straight at him, its rider with his whip lifted.
Donal took off his bonnet, stepped a little aside, and stood. His
bearing and countenance calmed the horseman's rage; there was something
in them to which no gentleman could fail of res