Crags rose abruptly a little in front of us.
Half-way up the slope to the left, on a ledge of rock, rose a long, low building with curious, pyramid-like roofs, crowned at either end by a sort of minaret, which resembled more than anything else a huge earthenware oil-jar.

This was the monastery or lamasery we had come so far to see.

Honestly, at first sight, I did not feel sure it was worth the trouble.
Our guide called a halt, and turned to us with a sudden peremptory air.
His servility had vanished.

"You stoppee here," he said, slowly, in broken English, "while me-a go on to see whether Lama-sahibs ready to take you.

Must ask leave from Lama-sahibs to visit village; if no ask leave"-- he drew his hand across his throat with a significant gesture--"Lama-sahibs cuttee head off Eulopean." "Goodness gracious!" Lady Meadowcroft cried, clinging tight to Hilda.
"Miss Wade, this is dreadful! Where on earth have you brought us to ?" "Oh, that's all right," Hilda answered, trying to soothe her, though she herself began to look a trifle anxious.