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CHAPTER SECOND.


ABOUT THE KIND OLD MONK AND THE MUSICIAN, AND ABOUT THE TURTLE-DOVES WHO
MADE THEIR NEST NEAR HIS WINDOW.

Heavenly music from the young man's room was heard every day;--finer and
finer it sounded. As early spring came on, he grew very poorly; the
little old monk used to bring him his meals into his chamber, because it
tired him to go up and down the long stone staircase to the great
eating-room. There never was anybody so kind as the little old monk.

A pair of young doves were hatched in the nest, and when the sun shone
in at the window, the young man used to sit in his dressing-gown, with a
pillow in his chair, and look down into the cypress-tree where the
turtle-doves' nest was; he would sit for hours and look at them, and
many beautiful thoughts passed through his mind as he did so. Never had
his heart been so full of love as now. The little old monk used to sit
on a low seat before him, waiting for the time when he asked for his
violin, which was a great happiness for them both. The musician loved
the old monk very much, and often, when he played, he desired to pour
bright and comfortable thoughts into his innocent soul.

It was the end of March; the turtle-doves were all preparing for their
flight to England; the pair that had built their nest under the