“Oh! Merciful Pani, take not my all!” wailed the pilgrim. But his worthless gaberdine was thrust into the dwelling of the guide.
Meanwhile, the matron was still enveloping Pani in her interminable tappas.
But the sad-eyed maiden, removing her upper mantle, threw it over the naked form of the beggar.
The fifth pilgrim was a youth of an open, ingenuous aspect; and with an eye, full of eyes; his step was light.
“Who art thou?” cried Pani, as the stripling touched him in passing.
“I go to ascend the Peak,” said the boy.
“Then take me for guide.”
“No, I am strong and lithesome. Alone must I go.”
“But how knowest thou the way?”
“There are many ways: the right one I must seek for myself.”