At first the Hermit, knowing the weakness of woman, and her little
aptitude for the life apart, had feared that he might be disturbed
by the nearness of his penitent; but she faithfully held to his
commands, abstaining from all sight of him save on the Days of
Obligation; and when they met, so modest and devout was her
demeanour that she raised his soul to fresh fervency. And gradually
it grew sweet to him to think that, near by though unseen, was one
who performed the same tasks at the same hours; so that, whether he
tended his garden, or recited his chaplet, or rose under the stars
to repeat the midnight office, he had a companion in all his labours
and devotions.
Meanwhile the report had spread abroad that a holy woman who cast
out devils had made her dwelling in the Hermit's cliff; and many
sick persons from the valley sought her out, and went away restored
by her. These poor pilgrims brought her oil and flour, and with her
own hands she made a garden like the Hermit's, and planted it with
corn and lentils; but she would never take a trout from the brook,
or receive the gift of a snared wild-fowl, for she said that in her
vagrant life the wild creatures of the wood had befriended her, and
as she had slept in peace among them, so now she would never suffer
them to be molested.
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