ore us a tall, lonely mass of grey stone, built upon the rock.
Behind it the sun had risen, and fired to burnished gold the still
lake which mirrored the Hospice and its dark wall of mountains, seamed
with snow.

The impression of high purity, of peace won through privation, and of
nearness to Heaven itself, was so strong upon me, that I seemed to
hear a voice speaking a benediction.

CHAPTER XI

A Shadow of Night

"This villain, . . . He dares--I know not half he dares--
But remove him--quick!"
--ROBERT BROWNING.

So early was it still, I feared we had come before the brotherhood
were astir to receive visitors; but as I looked up at the great, grey,
silent building, the noble head of a magnificent St. Bernard dog
appeared in the doorway, at the top of steep stone steps. There could
not have been a more appropriate welcome to this remote dwelling of a
devoted band; and when the dog, after gazing gravely at the newcomers,
vanished into darkness, I knew that he had gone in to tell of our
arrival. I was right, too, for once within, he uttered a deep
bell-note, more sonorous and more musical than lies in the throats of
common dogs, and was answered by a distant baying. One could not say
that these majestic animals "barked." There was as indisputable a
difference between an ordinary bark, and the sound they made, as
between the barrel instrument played in the streets, and a grand
cathedral organ.

Joseph had visited the Hospice many times, and knew the etiquette for
strangers. He bade me go in, and ring the bell at the _grille_, unless
I should meet one of the monks before reaching it. I mounted the
steps, entered the wide doorway which had framed the dog's head, and
found myself in a vast, dusky corridor, resonant with strange
echoings, and mysterious with flitting shadows, which might be ghosts
of the past, or live beings of the present. As my eyes grew accustomed
to the gloom, I saw that there were numerous persons in this great
hall: tall monks in flowing robes of black, beggars come to solicit
alms or breakfast; and dogs, many dogs, who crowded round me, with a
waving of huge tails, and a gleaming of brown jewelled eyes in the
dusk. I did not need to ring the bell of the iron gate beyond which,
according to Joseph, no woman has ever passed. One of the monks came
to me--a tall, spare young man with a grave face, soft in expression,
yet hardened in outline b