In the House of the Sage On the morning of the following day, Ibarra, after visiting his lands, made his way to the home of old Tasio.

Complete stillness reigned in the garden, for even the swallows circling about the eaves scarcely made any noise.

Moss grew on the old wall, over which a kind of ivy clambered to form borders around the windows.

The little house seemed to be the abode of silence.
Ibarra hitched his horse carefully to a post and walking almost on tiptoe crossed the clean and well-kept garden to the stairway, which he ascended, and as the door was open, he entered.

The first sight that met his gaze was the old man bent over a book in which he seemed to be writing.