Chapter Twenty Eight.
Describes a Startling Discovery.
I looked and saw that upon a kind of natural platform on the rock was built a small stone hut, upon the grey-tiled roof of which we were gazing down.
“Yes, there are the ‘twenty-four foot-holes’ mentioned in the record, no doubt,” I said. “I wonder if anybody lives down there.”
“Well, let’s descend and investigate,” suggested Reggie anxiously, and a few moments later we had struck a narrow track leading from the chestnut wood direct to the roughly-cut steps that went down to a narrow opening between two rocks. Upon the right hand one we found deeply graven an old-fashioned capital E, about a foot long, and passing by it we saw that a rough and perilous track led zigzag down to the small hut, the closed door and small barred window of which caused us the wildest curiosity as to what was within.
Next moment, however, the truth was plain. The front of the little place was pointed, and upon the apex was a small stone cross.
It was a hermit’s cell, like so many similar ancient places of retreat and contemplation in old-world Italy, and an instant later, as we passed the rocks and came cautiously down the path, the door opened, and there issued forth the hermit himself, who, to my surprise, I recognised as no other person than the burly, dark-bearded monk, Antonio!
“Gentlemen,” he exclaimed, speaking in Italian, as he greeted us, “this is certainly an unexpected meeting,” and he indicated the stone bench that ran along the outside of the low little hut, which I saw was so cunningly concealed by the overhanging trees as to be invisible either from the river or from the opposite bank. As we seated ourselves at his direction, he hitched up his faded brown habit beneath his waist-cord and himself sat down beside us.
I expressed surprise at finding him there, but he only smiled, saying—
“You are disappointed at discovering nothing else—eh?”