"Here must certainly be the Rocks of Refuge," he cried.
But his brother Simon only shook his head.
"We have still further to go, my brother. The holy man said it was at least a seven days' journey from here."
"Ah! no doubt he measured the distance with his own feet, and they are old."
"But the sound of this bell comes not from the north, but much more from the west."
"No doubt we have lost the proper direction."
And Sir Michael persuaded his elder brother, Simon, not to go any further, but turn aside and discover from whence came the sound of the bell, for surely none but a Christian man would signal with a bell. No doubt they did so to prevent folks from losing their way, so that they might turn in thither and find a place of refuge from the enemy.
Simon at last agreed, and they proceeded in the direction from whence the sound of the bell came, and when they had emerged from the forest a little pebbly valley opened out before them, through which wound a little brook, and over the brook a great footbridge was cast. But the bridge led up to a great rocky castle, with a large pointed tower in each of its four corners, and a fifth tower in the middle. There were bells in all five of these towers, and they were pulling them as if they were ringing in a procession.
"These be certainly the Rocks of Refuge!" cried Sir Michael, once more.
"The hermit said nothing of such towers and bastions as these," remarked his brother Simon, hesitating.