ere deep, shuddering crevices, into which one scarcely
gazed for horror. Immense boulders jutted out on every hand; some of
them seeming ready to fall and shake the earth to its centre. Wild and
barren rocks gave foothold to trees and undergrowth more beautiful than
the most cultivated garden; nothing lovelier than the ferns and
wildflowers that abounded.

As the sun rose higher, warmth and brilliancy increased until the air
was full of light. We breathed a magic atmosphere.

"This is what I delight and revel in," cried Salvador the monk. "This
lifts me out of myself. It is one of the glories of Spain, and makes me
feel a new being with one foot on earth and one in heaven. Can you
wonder that I should like to inhabit yonder cave? Day by day I should
watch the sun rise and the sun set, all the hours between given to
happiness and contemplation. As I look on at these effects of nature my
soul seems to go out in a great apocalypse of melody. The air is filled
with celestial music. Yet no doubt our Principal is right, and in the
end the influence would not be good for me. I am a strange
contradiction. There are moments when I feel that I could go back to the
world and take my place and play my part in all its rush and excitement;
other moments when I could welcome the solitude of the desert, the
repose of the grave."

It was almost impossible to turn away from the scene, undoubtedly one of
the great panoramas of the world. Here, indeed, we seemed to gaze upon
all its kingdoms and glories. Without the least desire to become
hermits, we would willingly have spent days upon the mountain. As that
could not be we presently commenced our long descent, winding about the
mountain paths, gathering specimens of rare wildflowers, and gazing upon
the world below. We made many a halt, rested in many a friendly and
verdant nook, and took in many an impression never to be forgotten. On
returning to the settlement we felt we had been to a new world where
angels walked unseen. It was difficult to come back to the lower levels
of life. We had quite an affection for our patient mule, that looked at
us out of its gentle eyes as though it knew quite well the service
rendered was as valued as it was freely given.

Salvador joined us at luncheon: we would not be denied.

"It is a fast-day," he said; "how can I turn it into a feast?"

"You are a traveller, and as such are permitted an indulgence."

He smiled. "It is true," he returned. "I p