ON the fourteenth day he came to the valley below his cliff, and saw
the walls of his native town against the sky. He was footsore and heavy
of heart, for his long pilgrimage had brought him only weariness and
humiliation, and as no drop of rain had fallen he knew that his garden
must have perished. So he climbed the cliff heavily and reached his
cave at the angelus.
But there a great wonder awaited him. For though the scant earth of the
hillside was parched and crumbling, his garden-soil reeked with
moisture, and his plants had shot up, fresh and glistening, to a height
they had never before attained. More wonderful still, the tendrils of
the gourd had been trained about his door, and kneeling down he saw
that the earth had been loosened between the rows of sprouting
vegetables, and that every leaf sparkled with drops as though the rain
had but newly ceased. Then it appeared to the Hermit that he beheld a
miracle, but doubting his own deserts he refused to believe himself
worthy of such grace, and went within doors to ponder on what had
befallen him. And on his bed of rushes he saw a young woman sleeping,
clad in an outlandish garment, with strange amulets about her neck.
The sight was very terrifying to the Hermit, for he recalled how often
the demon, in tempting the Desert Fathers, had taken the form of a
woman for their undoing; but he reflected that, since there was nothing
pleasing to him in the sight of this female, who was brown as a nut and
lean with wayfaring, he ran no great danger in looking at her. At first
he took her for a wandering Egyptian, but as he looked he perceived,
among the heathen charms, an Agnus Dei in her bosom; and this so
surprised him that he bent over and called on her to wake.
She sprang up with a start, but seeing the Hermit's gown and staff, and
his face above her, lay quiet and said to him: "I have watered your
garden daily in return for the beans and oil that I took from your
store."
"Who are you, and how do you come here?" asked the Hermit.