At length he was allowed to enter the atrium, and Aurelia saw before her a man in black monkish habit, his body bent and tremulous, but evidently not with age, for his aspect otherwise was that of middle life.

What, she asked briefly and coldly, was his business with her?
Thereupon the monk drew from his bosom a small wrappage of tissues, which when unfolded disclosed a scrap of something hairy.
'This, noble lady,' said the monk, in a voice reverently subdued, 'is from the camel-hair garment of Holy John the Baptist.

I had it of a hermit in the Egyptian desert, who not many days after I quitted him was for his sanctity borne up to heaven by angels, and knew not death.' Aurelia viewed the relic with emotion.
'Why,' she asked, 'do you offer it to me ?' The monk drew a step nearer and whispered: 'Because I know that you, like him from whom I received it, are of the true faith.' Aurelia observed him closely.

His robe was ragged and filthy; his bare feet were thick with the dust of the road; his visage, much begrimed, wore an expression of habitual suffering, and sighs as of pain frequently broke from him.

The hand by which he supported himself on a staff trembled as with weakness.
'You are not a presbyter ?' she said in an undertone, after a glance at his untonsured head.
'I am unworthy of the meanest order in the Church.