midnight
Had the brotherhood still peopled the monastery , I should have yearned to join them , partly because I was sad , and partly because the so-called cells were the most charming dwelling-places I had seen . Each comprised a two-storied house in miniature , and each had its garden , shut irrevocably away from sight or sound of any other . Into one of these solitary abodes I went alone , and closed the door upon myself and the ghosts . In fancy I was one of the order , in retreat for a week , my only means of communication with the outer world of the monastery -LRB- save for midnight prayers in the dim chapel -RRB- a little _ grille _ . There was my workshop , where I carved wood ; there the narrow staircase leading steeply up to my wainscoted bedroom , my study , and my oratory , with windows looking down into the leafy square of garden , planted by my own hands . Standing at one of those windows , I knew the anguish of parting and loss which had torn the heart of the last occupant , before he walked out of the monastery between double lines of Chasseurs Alpins . -LSB- Illustration -RSB-