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Shaking off from my spirit what must have been a dream, I
scanned more narrowly the real aspect of the building. Its principal
feature seemed to be that of an excessive antiquity. The
discoloration of ages had been great. Minute fungi overspread the whole exterior,
hanging in a fine tangled web-work from the eaves. Yet all this was apart from any extraordinary
dilapidation. No portion of the masonry had fallen: and there appeared to be a wild inconsistency
between its still perfect adaptation of parts, and the crumbling condition of the individual
stones. In this there was much that reminded me of the specious totality of old wood-work which has
rotted for long years in some neglected vault, with no disturbance from the breath of the external
air. Beyond this indication of extensive decay, however, the fabric gave little token of instability. Perhaps
the eye of a scrutinizing observer might have discovered a barely perceptible fissure, which, extending from the
root of the building in front, made its way down the wall in a zigzag direction, until it became lost in the sullen
waters of the tarn.
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