The ground was rough, but the monk, going before, marked the places for their footing.

A few minutes thus, and they reached trees, black against a sky sown with stars and overshimmered by a wasted moon.
Veranilda, who was trembling, clung to her companion's arm.
'How much further ?' asked Aurelia, striving to make her voice firm.
'This is not the way by which I came before.' 'Scarce fifty steps.

See you not the light yonder ?' Among the trees was perceptible a faint shining.

Hand tight clasped in hand, the two moved forward over thick herbage, and still descended.
They drew near to the light, and saw that it issued from a little cave.
Within stood a man, bent as if with age and infirmities, his face half-hidden under a cowl.

When the visitors were near, he stretched forth his arms, murmuring words of welcome, and the two knelt devoutly before him.
There was a moment of silence, then the cowled man again spoke, in a voice firmer and less senile.
'My daughters, you have come hither through the gloom of night and over rough places, led by a faithful guide, whom you followed without doubt or fear.