This so disturbed his delicate nerves that illness, or the appearance of
it, was sure to follow. He would then take to his bed, refuse all but a
little spiced wine, allowing no coarse food to pass his lips, and strive
to remember the beautiful words of which he had intended to make verses;
but, alas! the words had flown, as well as the ideas which had suggested
them, like so many giddy little butterflies.




CHAPTER II


The monastery had been a grand old pile in its day; it was not one
simple building, but a cluster of habitations which had grown with the
growth and resources of the order which founded it. Like all feudal
structures it had its means of defence--its moat and drawbridge, its
tower of observation, and in its heavy gates and thick walls loop-holes
and embrasures for weapons.

But grass grew now in the moat and birds nested in the embrasures, while
Leo's dogs bounded through chapel and refectory and cloister, parts of
the latter being converted into a stable.

Many of the walls had tumbled in hopeless confusion, but those of the
buildings yet in use had carved buttresses and mullioned windows, on
which much skill had been displayed.

Leo knew, or thought he knew, every nook and cranny of his home, for
when it rained, or heavy fogs hung threateningly about, his rambles were