No； I thought， in the interests of truth， he positively might not.

　　'Very well， then' （with disappointment）， 'an author.'

　　It appeared he had been in a seminary with six young Irishmen， all priests long since， who had received newspapers and kept him informed of the state of ecclesiastical affairs in England. And he asked me eagerly after Dr. Pusey， for whose conversion the good man had continued ever since to pray night and morning.

　　'I thought he was very near the truth，' he said； 'and he will reach it yet； there is so much virtue in prayer.'

　　He must be a stiff， ungodly Protestant who can take anything but pleasure in this kind and hopeful story. While he was thus near the subject， the good father asked me if I were a Christian； and when he found I was not， or not after his way， he glossed it over with great good-will.

　　The road which we were following， and which this stalwart father had made with his own two hands within the space of a year， came to a corner， and showed us some white buildings a little farther on beyond the wood. At the same time， the bell once more sounded abroad. We were hard upon the monastery. Father Apollinaris （for that was my companion's name） stopped me.

　　'I must not speak to you down there，' he said. 'Ask for the Brother Porter， and all will be well. But try to see me as you go out again through the wood， where I may speak to you. I am charmed to have made your acquaintance.'

　　And then suddenly raising his arms， flapping his fingers， and crying out twice， 'I must not speak， I must not speak！' he ran away in front of me， and disappeared into the monastery door.

　　I own this somewhat ghastly eccentricity went a good way to revive my terrors. But where one was so good and simple， why should not all be alike？ I took heart of grace， and went forward to the gate as fast as Modestine， who seemed to have a disaffection for monasteries， would permit. It was the first door， in my acquaintance of her， which she had not shown an indecent haste to enter. I summoned the place in form， though with a quaking heart. Father Michael， the Father Hospitaller， and a pair of brown-robed brothers came to the gate and spoke with me a while. I think my sack was the great attraction； it had already beguiled the heart of poor Apollinaris， who had charged me on my life to show it to the Father Prior， But whether it was my address， or the sack， or the idea speedily published among that part of the brotherhood who attend on strangers that I was not a pedlar after all， I found no difficulty as to my reception. Modestine was led away by a layman to the stables， and I and my pack were received into Our Lady of the Snows.