In the calm air of the Sunday morning with the brook going gently by, I came to the entrance of the hoary ruins wherein I had first seen Dariel. A chapel with lines of grey flint only, to show where once the sacred walls had risen, and nothing but the soft sky for roof, and mortar and moss for pavement. Stepan, as big as a pulpit, but more mute, stood close by expecting me, and led me along a ferny path, and dusted a stone to sit upon, with a noble quietude. But when I asked him--"What am I to do?" he took it for our national salutation, and answered "like a house afire, sir." So I gave it up, and resolved to act according to the light of nature, and the behaviour of the others when they arrived. Only if there came a great procession of images, as I expected, nothing should make me depart from the proper demeanour of a Briton. However I was not called upon to assert the great Reformation. A more simple, quiet, and impressive service I never witnessed anywhere; and although there was no roof overhead, and little enclosure on either side, the view of the sky, and the passing of the wind, and the sense of antiquity around us were in harmony, as it seemed to me, with the conditions of humility, and mortality, and hopefulness. The strictest Puritan could have found fault with little except the red crosses worn by all the congregation, and a few triangles and wreaths of white flowers. And the man who can find any fault with these must consider himself too faultless to worship any other being. First came the women, only seven or eight in number, veiled not very heavily, and cloaked in cheerful raiment. And the last of these was Dariel, looking as if she had never dreamed of anything uncelestial, while the loveliness of her figure gleamed through the folds of her flowing mantle; even as the flexure and the texture of an agate glisten through the cloudy pretext of their coat to hide them. "Who shall understand these things?" thought I, "there is no one on earth fit to approach her; yet the Lord cannot have meant her to be always by herself." And then I thought of Hafer--Prince indeed! Prince of darkness, and nothing else--and I looked about, with anything but religious peace inside me. However I could perceive no sign of any wickedness high or low; and every heart except my own sang a grateful and worshipful tune to the Lord.