was almost entirely hidden by a tangled growth of beard as white as
snow, which beard descended almost to the man's waist, and was of
wonderful fineness and bushiness. At the first glance the
impression produced by this strange apparition was that he was a
man immensely old; but a closer examination might well raise
doubts. The air and bearing of the man were strangely alert for an
octogenarian, and the way in which he tackled the hard bread and
cheese which still stood before him was scarcely like the fashion
in which the aged generally eat.

Cuthbert held his breath as he gazed. Was this a dream--the outcome
of his talk with the gipsy? No, he was awake; he became more and
more sure of it. But lying perfectly still, and not betraying his
presence by so much as a deeply-drawn breath, he gazed and gazed as
if fascinated upon the face of this strange being, and in his heart
he said:

"Long Robin himself!"

He was certain of it; there could be no manner of mistake. Dress,
air, everything corresponded with Joanna's description. For a
moment a sick fear crossed his mind lest he should have left upon
the table the fragment of parchment with the mystic words upon it,
for he had had no idea that the cave would be invaded that night.
But no; the habit of caution had been strong within him, and he had
put the paper away before retiring to his corner. Plainly the man
before him had no suspicion that any living soul was near. The deep
shadows of the cave hid Cuthbert completely from view, and the
secret entrance to the inner cave was doubtless known to very few.
None would suspect the presence of a hidden stranger there.