What, she asked briefly and coldly, was his business with her?
Thereupon the monk drew from his bosom a small wrappage of tissues,
which when unfolded disclosed a scrap of something hairy.
'This, noble lady,' said the monk, in a voice reverently subdued,
'is from the camel-hair garment of Holy John the Baptist. I had it
of a hermit in the Egyptian desert, who not many days after I
quitted him was for his sanctity borne up to heaven by angels, and
knew not death.'
Aurelia viewed the relic with emotion.
'Why,' she asked, 'do you offer it to me?'
The monk drew a step nearer and whispered:
'Because I know that you, like him from whom I received it, are of
the true faith.'
Aurelia observed him closely. His robe was ragged and filthy; his
bare feet were thick with the dust of the road; his visage, much
begrimed, wore an expression of habitual suffering, and sighs as of
pain frequently broke from him. The hand by which he supported
himself on a staff trembled as with weakness.
'You are not a presbyter?' she said in an undertone, after a glance
at his untonsured head.
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