That group of people under the light, seeing symbols of Roman authority
and hearing its familiar voice, fell aside with fear in their faces. A
woman standing in the entrance of the cave addressed Vergilius, her
voice trembling with emotion.
"Good sir," said she, "if you mean harm to those within I pray you go
hence."
"I know not who is within," he answered, as both he and David passed
her. Fearing treachery, they drew their swords. Just beyond the
entrance of the cave both halted. A man stood before them, his face
full of high authority, his hand raised as if to command silence. He
was garbed like a toiler and somewhat past middle age, his beard and
eyebrows long and gray. A lantern hung near his head, and well beyond
him, resting peacefully on the farther floor of the cave, were horses,
sheep, and oxen. The man spoke not save by the beckon of his hand.
Without a word they followed him. The light of the lantern seemed now
to glow with exceeding brightness. They stopped. On the straw before
them lay a beautiful young maiden, a child upon her breast.
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