potation might possibly be efficacious. To this suggestion the monk
answered that he would certainly try the water some other time; but that
at present the wine he had drunk might pollute its divine properties.
So saying, he turned off the conversation by inviting me to follow him
to the hermitage.

In our way thither he pointed out a large fragment of stone, and
observed that the water would do me evil instead of good if I forgot to
remunerate its guardian. I took the hint, and laid a piece of silver on
the fragment.

A short journey through the wood brought us to the foot of a hill
covered with trees, and having at its base a strong stone door, the
entrance to the excavated home of the anchorite. The monk gently tapped
thrice at this door, but no answer came. "The holy man is from home,"
said he, "let us return."

We did so; and the monk, keeping behind me, managed, as he thought
unseen, to leave the stone as naked as we had found it! We now struck
through another path in the wood, and were soon at the convent. I did
not lose the opportunity to question the Abbot respecting his tenant: I
learned from him little more than the particulars I have already
narrated, save that in concluding his details, he said:--

"I can scarcely doubt but that the Hermit is, like yourself, a person of
rank; his bearing and his mien appear to denote it. He has given, and
gives yearly, large sums to the uses of the convent: and, though he
takes the customary gifts of the pious villagers, it is only by my
advice and for the purpose of avoiding suspicion. Should he be
considered rich, it might attract cupidity; and there are enough bold