CHAPTER II.

High above the ravine where the spring was lay a level plateau of
moderate extent, and behind it rose a fissured cliff of bare, red-brown
porphyry. A vein of diorite of iron-hardness lay at its foot like a
green ribbon, and below this there opened a small round cavern, hollowed
and arched by the cunning hand of nature. In former times wild beasts,
panthers or wolves, had made it their home; it now served as a dwelling
for young Hermas and his father.

Many similar caves were to be found in the holy Fountain, and other
anchorites had taken possession of the larger ones among them.

That of Stephanus was exceptionally high and deep, and yet the space was
but small which divided the two beds of dried mountain herbs where, on
one, slept the father, and on the other, the son.

It was long past midnight, but neither the younger nor the elder cave-
dweller seemed to be sleeping. Hermas groaned aloud and threw himself
vehemently from one side to the other without any consideration for the
old man who, tormented with pain and weakness, sorely needed sleep.
Stephanus meanwhile denied himself the relief of turning over or of
sighing, when he thought he perceived that his more vigorous son had
found rest.

"What could have robbed him of his rest, the boy who usually slept so
soundly, and was so hard to waken?"