The walls were constructed of roots of trees, and the interstices filled up with Moss and Ivy.

Seats of Turf were placed on either side, and a natural Cascade fell from the Rock above.

Buried in himself the Monk approached the spot.

The universal calm had communicated itself to his bosom, and a voluptuous tranquillity spread languor through his soul.
He reached the Hermitage, and was entering to repose himself, when He stopped on perceiving it to be already occupied.

Extended upon one of the Banks lay a man in a melancholy posture.
His head was supported upon his arm, and He seemed lost in mediation.
The Monk drew nearer, and recognised Rosario: He watched him in silence, and entered not the Hermitage.