rang the bell, a small gate was opened by a Friar, Ferdinand announced himself as an unfortunate and wearied traveller seeking shelter from the inclemencies of the night.
"Enter, my son, and welcome," said the father. Seldom does the traveller find his way to our solitary mansion, so remote and distant from any great road; enter therefore freely, and partake of our homely fare, and humble lodging." Ferdinand followed his conductor to a large room, where several of the Fathers were assembled just returned from their evening vespers. All but one saluted him, and withdrew, that one advanced, and requested he would be seated. Some bread, salad, milk and fruit, were brought in, of which Ferdinand partook very sparingly, for the uneasiness of his mind had destroyed his appetite.
"You look fatigued, my son," said the Friar, "and I suppose must have wandered considerably out of your way to have arrived at this dwelling, seldom in the habit of receiving strangers."
