But between the heavy front door, that Lucy was about to open, and the distant light, was an earthen floor full of holes and gaps, and on either side--caverns of desolation--the old wine and oil stores, the kitchens and wood cellars of the convent, now black dens avoided by the cautious, and dark even at midday because of the rough boarding-up of the windows.

There was a stable smell in the passage, and Lucy already knew that one of the further dens held the _contadino's_ donkey and mule.
'_Can_ we stay here ?' she said to herself, half laughing, half doubtful.
Then she lifted the heavy iron bar that closed the old double door, and stepped out into the courtyard that surrounded the convent, half of which was below the road as it rapidly descended from the village, and half above it.
She took a few steps to the right.
Exquisite! There opened out before her a little cloister, with double shafts carrying Romanesque arches; and at the back of the court, the chapel, and a tiny bell-tower.

The moon shone down on every line and moulding.

Under its light, stucco and brick turned to ivory and silver.

There was an absolute silence, an absolute purity of air; and over all the magic of beauty and of night.