For a few minutes they pursued a level
path, then, passing between myrtles, began to descend the seaward
slope. The ground was rough, but the monk, going before, marked the
places for their footing. A few minutes thus, and they reached
trees, black against a sky sown with stars and overshimmered by a
wasted moon. Veranilda, who was trembling, clung to her companion's
arm.
'How much further?' asked Aurelia, striving to make her voice firm.
'This is not the way by which I came before.'
'Scarce fifty steps. See you not the light yonder?'
Among the trees was perceptible a faint shining. Hand tight clasped
in hand, the two moved forward over thick herbage, and still
descended. They drew near to the light, and saw that it issued from
a little cave. Within stood a man, bent as if with age and
infirmities, his face half-hidden under a cowl. When the visitors
were near, he stretched forth his arms, murmuring words of welcome,
and the two knelt devoutly before him.
There was a moment of silence, then the cowled man again spoke, in a
voice firmer and less senile.
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