Turning to his companion, he laid a hand on the man's shoulder, and addressed him in a voice of much gentleness.
'Did you leave nothing behind you, Deodatus, which would make the thought of never returning to your home a sorrow ?' 'Nothing, my dear lord,' was the reply.

'In my lifetime I have seen much grief and little solace.

All I loved are dead.' 'But you are young.

Could you without a pang say farewell to the world ?' Deodatus answered timidly: 'Here is peace.' Continuing to question, Basil learnt that for this man the life of the world was a weariness and a dread.

Hardships of many kinds had oppressed him from childhood; his was a meek soul, which had no place amid the rudeness and violence of the times; from the first hour, the cloistered life had cast a spell upon him.
'Here is peace,' he repeated.