and was glad to see himself arm in arm with him. The last pictures were obscure and incomprehensible; yet some of the shapes of his dream surprised him with the most intense rapture. The conclusion of the book was wanting. Henry was very sorrowful, and wished for nothing more earnestly than to be able to read and thoroughly understand the book. He looked over the pictures repeatedly, and was almost abashed when the company returned. A strange sort of shame overcame him. He did not suffer himself to make known his discovery, and merely asked the Hermit generally about its title and language. He learned that it was written in the Provence tongue. "It is long since I have read it," said the Hermit; "I do not now remember its contents very distinctly. As far as I recollect, it is a romance, relating the wonderful fortune of a poet's life, wherein the art of poesy is represented and extolled in all its various relations. The conclusion is wanting to the manuscript, which I brought with me from Jerusalem, where I found it left with a friend, and took it, away, as a memorial of him." They now took leave of each other. Henry was moved to tears; the cave had become so remarkable and the hermit so dear to him. All embraced the hermit heartily, and he himself seemed to have become attached to them. Henry thought that he noticed his kind and penetrating gaze fixed upon him. His farewell words to him were full of meaning. He seemed to know of his discovery and to have reference to it. He followed them to the entrance of the cave, after having requested them, and particularly the boy, not to tell the farmers concerning him, as it would only expose him to their troublesome acquaintance. They all promised this. As they separated from him, and commended themselves to his prayers, he said, "But a short time and we shall see each other again, to smile at the conversation of this day. A heavenly dawn will surround us, and we shall rejoice that we greeted each other kindly in this vale of probation, and were inspired with like sentiments and anticipations. There are angels who guide us here in safety. If your eye is fixed upon Heaven, you will never lose the way to your home." They separated with a silent feeling of devotion, soon found their timorous companions, and amid general conversation shortly reached the village, where Henry's mother, who had been somewhat anxious about him, received them with a thousand expressions of joy. CHAPTER VI.