But for its salutary and
stilling influence, it seemed to her that she must have forfeited all
control over her mind. The suspense was too terrible for human aid to
support her. Seated by the sea-side, she covered her face with her
hands, and invoked the Supreme assistance. More than an hour passed
away. Venetia looked up. Two beautiful birds, of strange form and
spotless plumage, that perhaps had wandered from the Aegean, were
hovering over her head, bright and glancing in the sun. She accepted
their appearance as a good omen. At this moment she heard a voice,
and, looking up, observed a monk in the distance, beckoning to her.
She rose, and with a trembling step approached him. He retired, still
motioning to her to follow him. She entered, by a low portal, a dark
cloister; it led to an ante-chapel, through which, as she passed, her
ear caught the solemn chorus of the brethren. Her step faltered; her
sight was clouded; she was as one walking in a dream. The monk opened
a door, and, retiring, waved his hand, as for her to enter. There was
a spacious and lofty chamber, scantily furnished, some huge chests,
and many sacred garments. At the extreme distance her mother was
reclined on a bench, her head supported by a large crimson cushion,
and her father kneeling by her mother's side.
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