I inquired what had brought her to the cliff-top, and who the person was that I had heard her calling.
‘It is no person,’ she answered, smiling; ‘it is only my goat. She has strayed away, and I was searching for her among the rocks.’
Then nodding to me as if about to say farewell, she turned to go, but I detained her, saying that I would assist her to look for the goat.
We soon discovered the animal in a crevice of rock, and so glad was Benedicta to find her humble companion that she knelt by its side, put her arms about its neck and called it by many endearing names. I thought this very charming, and could not help looking upon the group with obvious admiration.
Benedicta, observing it, said: ‘Her mother fell from a cliff and broke her neck. I took the little one and brought it up on milk, and she is very fond of me. One who lives alone as I do values the love of a faithful animal.’
When the maiden was about to leave me I gained courage to speak to her of what had been so long in my mind. I said: ‘It is true, is it not, Benedicta, that on the night of the festival you went to meet the drunken boys in order to save your father from harm?’
She looked at me in great astonishment. ‘For what other reason could you suppose I went?’
‘I could not think of any other,’ I replied, in some confusion.
‘And now good-bye, Brother,’ she said, moving away.
‘Benedicta,’ I cried. She paused and turned her head.