ch
objects assume in this pure atmosphere. The full blaze of a noonday sun
lit up the scene, where not a trace of human habitation nor a track of
man's culture could be seen for miles.

'My own road in life should lie along that glen,' said Gerald dreamily,
as he leaned out of the window and gazed on the silent landscape, and
soon dropped into a deep reverie, when past, present, and future were
all blended together. The unbroken stillness of the spot, the calm
tranquillity of the scene, steeped his spirit in a sort of dreamy
lethargy, scarcely beyond the verge of sleep itself. To his half-waking
state his restless night contributed, and hour by hour went over
unconsciously: now muttering verses of his old convent hymns, now
snatches of wild peasant legends, his mind lost itself in close-woven
fancies.

Whether the solitary tract of country before him was a reality or a mere
dreamland, he knew not. It needed an effort to resume consciousness, and
that effort he could not make; long fasting, too, lent its influence to
increase this state, and his brain balanced between fact and imagination
weariedly and hopelessly. At moments he fancied himself in some palace
of his ancestors, dwelling in a high but solitary state; then would
he suddenly imagine that he was a prisoner, confined for some great
treason--he had taken arms against his country--he had adhered to a
cause, he knew not what or whose, but it was adjudged treasonable. Then,
again, it was a monastery, and he was a novice, waiting and studying
to assume his vows; and his heart struggled between a vague craving
for active life and a strange longing for the deathlike quiet of the
cloister.

From these warring fancies he started suddenly, and, passing his hand
across his forehead, tried to recall himself to reason. 'Where am
I?' exclaimed he, and the very sound of his own voice, echoed by the
deep-vaulted room, almost affrighted him. 'How came I here?' muttered
he, hoping to extricate himself from the realm of fancy by the utterance
of the words. He hastened to the door, but the handle was broken and
would not turn; he tried to burst it open, but it was strong and firm as
the deep wall at either side of it; he shouted aloud, he beat loudly on
the oaken panels, but though the deep-arched ceiling made the noise seem
like thunder, no answer was returned to his call. He next turned to the
window, and saw to his dismay that it was at a great height from the
ground, which