He waited for no answer, and I followed him for the few steps that
led to the rock cavern; and there was a tiny oratory with its altar
and cross, and wax lights already burning.

The old man knelt in his place and I knelt with him, and as he
began the office straightway I knew how worn out I was, and of a
sudden the lights danced before me and I reeled and fell with a
clatter and clash of arms on the rocky floor. I seemed to know that
the old man turned and looked and rose up from his knees hastily,
and I tried to say that I was sorry that I had broken the peace of
this holy place; but he answered in his soft voice:

"Why, poor lad, I should have seen that you were spent ere this.
The fault is mine."

He raised me gently, and seemed to search me for some wound. And as
he did so I came more to myself, and begged him to go on with his
office.

"First comes care of the afflicted, my son, and after that may be
prayer. In truth, to help the fainting is in itself a prayer, as I
think. Come to the fireside and tell me what is amiss."

"Fasting and fighting and freezing, father," I said, trying to
laugh.

"Are you wounded?" he asked quickly.

"No, not at all."