ime of the year the effects were doubtful. More often than not a thick
mist enshrouded the whole visible world like a white sea. We might
remain, have our trouble and discomfort for our pains, and nothing more.

"Here," said the monk, throwing open the door of a small room, and
pointing to a bed hard as pavement, "you may sleep in comfort, even
luxury. And," opening the window, "what a prospect!"

True enough as regarded the outlook. Such an assemblage of vale,
mountain and river could hardly be surpassed. The luxury of the bed, on
the other hand, was a distinct effort of the imagination. We would not,
however, disturb the sensitiveness of the little monk by arguing the
matter, and indeed, it would have been difficult to lower his
self-complacency. Two rooms belonging to a suite were duly apportioned
to us. The bare kitchen between them looked cold and lifeless. These
rooms would be prepared, and any one remaining here for the night might
reasonably consider it a penance for his sins. It would be rather a
gruesome experience to find ourselves in sole possession of this vast
building of a thousand rooms. An army of ghosts--the ghosts of
dead-and-gone monks--would certainly come down upon us, and H. C.'s most
Napoleon manner would have no effect whatever. Like the little monk,
ghosts are not to be frowned down.

"A pity to disturb this Hospederia, which may be considered closed for
the season," we remarked. "My poet friend is very much afraid of ghosts,
and this place might very well be haunted. It is certainly haunted by
silence. Why not give us cells in the monastery, where, in presence of
the Father-Superior, ghosts would hardly venture to intrude?"

"An excellent idea," said H. C., looking blue and shivery. "This place
is more gloomy than the grave."

"In the darkness one place is very much the same as another," said the
monk. "No one is allowed even within the walls of the monastery without
an order from the Holy Father at Rome, the Archbishop of Toledo, or some
equally great authority. Father Salvador is the only one who can prevail
with our Superior. As for ghosts, I have seen them with my own eyes on
All Souls' Eve, at midnight, in the monastery graveyard, and oh! how
frightened I was! How I shivered in my sandals! They were the ghosts of
two monks who had committed suicide within a year of each other in their
cells. Of course, they were quite mad, and they left a letter behind
them--both of them--to say they