Its great buildings stood desolate, or had fallen to utter ruin, and the country around, once famous for its fertility, showed but a few poor farms.
What inhabitants remained dwelt at the foot of the great hill on whose summit rose the citadel, still united with the town by two great walls.
After passing between the tombs on the Latin Way, memorials of citizens long dead, the travellers entered by an unprotected gateway, and here Venantius called a halt.

Wishing to make no longer pause than was needful to put the sick man in safety, he despatched a few soldiers through the silent town to seek for means of conveying Basil up to the monastery on the height.

By good luck these emissaries came upon a couple of monks, who lost no time in arranging for the conveyance of the sufferer.

A light cart drawn by two mules speedily appeared, and on this Basil was laid.

One only of his men did Venantius allow to accompany him, the others were bidden ride on with the captain's own soldiers to Aesernia.
'There you will find us all when you are on your legs again,' said Venantius, 'unless by that time we have marched Romewards, in which case you shall have a message.