"I have heard of such things," replied Iola; "and oh, how I long to see those lands and to dream of all that mighty men have done in former days. How strange it is that such arts have not come down to us. Here we see nothing between the huge castle with its frowning towers, or the lordly church with its spires and pinnacles, and the wood cottage of the peasant, or the humble abode of the franklin."
"The bishop smiled at her.
"You have been but little in cities, my child," he said; "but your observation is just. It is strange that the arts of other ages have not descended to us; for one would suppose, if anything on earth could be permanent, it would be that knowledge and that skill which tend to the elevation, the protection, and the comfort of the human race, especially when the wonders they have performed, and the monuments they have raised, are still before our eyes, although in ruins. But birth, life, death, and corruption are the fate of nations, as well as of men, of systems as well as creatures, of the offsprings of the human mind as well as of the inheritors of the corporeal frame. As in the successions of the human race, however, we see the numbers of the population still increasing, notwithstanding periods of devastation and destruction; as those who are born and die give birth to more than their own decease subtracts, so probably the loss of the arts, the sciences, even the energies which one nation or one epocha has produced, is succeeded by the production of arts, sciences, energies, more numerous, if not more vigorous, in the nation or epocha which follows. But these have again their childhood, their maturity, their decay; and society with us, my daughter, is perhaps still in its infancy--I believe indeed it is."
Iola gazed at him surprised, and somewhat bewildered, for he had led her mind beyond its depth; and the good prelate read the expression aright, and replied to it--
"You are surprised at such reasonings," he said, "because you are not accustomed to them; but I believe those people above would be more surprised, if they knew that, at the very moment they are seeking me to destroy me, I am walking along calmly beneath their feet, talking philosophy with a fair young creature like yourself."
He spoke with a smile, and then cast down his eyes in a musing mood, but, still that high intelligent smile remained upon his lips, as if he found some amusement in watching the working of his own mind, amidst the strange circumstances with which fate surrounded him.
The moment after, the passage began to ascend, not exactly by steps, though the broad flat stones with which it was paved rose a little, one above the edge of the other, rendering the path somewhat rough and difficult. This lasted not long, however, and the bishop, raising his eyes, observed--
"There seems a door before us. Have you got the key?"
"It will open, on being pressed hard," replied Iola; "but I cannot think we have reached the cell yet. The way has seemed so short."
So it proved however; and approaching the door, she attempted to push it open, but it resisted her efforts. The bishop however aided; the door moved back; and, holding it open, he desired Iola to pass through into the cell which was now before them. It was a low vaulted Gothic chamber, opening on the side of the hill, by an arch with an iron grate, and having on one side a shrine and little altar. The bishop followed his fair guide into this small chapel; but Iola herself had forgotten her aunt's injunction regarding the door. The bishop let it slip from his hand, as he passed through; and it closed at once, leaving no trace of its existence in the old woodwork of the walls. Had Iola recollected the difficulty she might have in returning, she would certainly have been alarmed; and the sudden close of the door would probably have brought her aunt's warning to her remembrance, had not a sight been presented to her, immediately on entering the chapel, which at once occupied all her attention. Through the low archway which I mentioned appeared the walls and towers of the abbey, lighted up by the flame of the beacon, and by a blaze, red and smoky as if proceeding from torches both in the great court-yard between the chapel and the portal, and on the little green before the great gates. The green itself, was partly hidden by the priest's house and the cottages; but under the walls, to the north and west of the building, were seen several groups of men on horseback; and the sounds of loud voices speaking, and of men calling to one another, were borne to the ear distinctly, for the great bell by this time had ceased to toll, and there was no other sound to interrupt the murmur of the voices from the abbey.