The hermit--for he was one--beckoned him to follow him, and Cuthbert found himself in a cave precisely similar to that which he himself inhabited.

There were no signs of comfort of any kind; a bed-place made of great stones stood in one corner, and Cuthbert, remembering the comforts of his own grassy couch, shuddered at the thought of the intense discomfort of such a sleeping-place.

In another corner was an altar, upon which stood a rough crucifix, before which the hermit knelt at once in prayer, Cuthbert following his example.

Rising again, the hermit motioned to him to sit down, and then began a conversation with him.
It was so long since the hermit had spoken to any living being that he had almost lost the use of his tongue, and his sentences were slow and ill-formed.

However, Cuthbert was able to understand him, and he to gather the drift of what Cuthbert told him.