_ CHAPTER X. THE HERMIT
They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.--HOLY WRIT.
For three days Gigi lay on the pallet of the good Hermit, near to death. And for three days the great dog lay on guard by his side. The Hermit went softly to and fro, taking tender care of the boy and giving him medicine made from wonderful herbs which he had found in the woods. Often he knelt in a corner of the hut, before a rude wooden Cross, and said prayers; this seemed to give him strength for his work and hope for its result. So that when he rose, his face would be bright and happy.
This was he doing the third morning when Gigi awoke, feeling better. The ache was gone from his limbs and the dizziness from his head. He awoke with a long sigh, and for the first time since he lay down on the Hermit's pallet he looked around him with interest. At first he did not know where he was.
The hut was small and bare. In one corner was a cupboard where the Hermit kept his scanty supply of food and the medicines which he distilled. Against the wall was a bench, beside a table made of a tree-stump, and on the table lay a great black book. Opposite the bed was the Cross of wood fastened to the wall, and below it the good Hermit knelt with bowed head. Gigi wondered what he was doing. He himself knew no prayers.
Gigi's eyes wandered to the door, which stood open. On the sill the cat and her kittens were playing. Outside he could catch a glimpse of various animals frisking about the dooryard. Birds sang merrily in the trees overhead and in the bushes just outside the window. The raven hopped into the doorway and stood looking saucily at Gigi, with head on one side. It was all so peaceful, so quiet, so different from anything which Gigi had known, that he thought it must be a dream. He sighed again, and turned over, stretching out his arm. In doing so he touched the hairy neck of Brutus, who was still sleeping by his bed. Instantly the dog sprang up and began to lick the boy's face. At the same moment, with a pious gesture, the Hermit also rose and came toward the cot, smiling kindly.
"You are better, my son?" he asked, laying a cool hand upon Gigi's forehead. "Ah, yes! You will soon be quite yourself."
Gigi stared up at him contentedly. "Who are you?" he asked. He had never been taught manners, and he could no longer hide his curiosity.
"I am a Hermit," answered the old man. "I live here alone with my animals, as you see. I pass the days in prayer and meditation, studying the Lord's Holy Book and the living works of His hands."
"Why do you live away from men?" asked Gigi again.
The Hermit's face grew sad.
"Men are wicked and cruel, child," he said. "Men hurt and kill one another. They love to slay the innocent animals for sport. In their kingdoms is no love. I have made myself here an animal kingdom, where all is love and peace."
"Do all animals know you?" asked Gigi, wondering.
"With time I can make friends with them all," said the Hermit, smiling. "One has but to love and understand and be patient. See!"
He gave a peculiar call. Instantly there came tumbling into the hut, until it nearly overflowed, a strange medley of creatures,--hares, mice, birds, kittens, squirrels. Last of all peered into the doorway a deer and her little speckled fawn.
The dog sat quite still, not moving a muscle. He had been trained not to frighten his more timid neighbors.
"Follow the example of Brutus, my son," said the Hermit gently. "Make no sudden movement and do not speak. They know my voice, and they will learn yours. But you are still a stranger to them, and must expect them to be shy."
The animals crowded lovingly about the Hermit, some springing upon his shoulders and knees, the birds flitting about his head.
Gigi thought he had never seen so wonderful a sight. "Oh!" thought he, "if I could only do this, what money might I not take from a crowd on market-days!"
After talking to his pets and caressing them tenderly, the old man dismissed them to the outdoor sunshine, so that he was alone with Gigi, who could then be free to move and speak once more.
"The beloved innocents!" said the Hermit, with a sigh. "Who could ever willfully injure one of them. God's creatures?--But now, my son, tell me about yourself," he broke off. "Who are you? Whence do you come? Whither are you going?"
"I do not know," said Gigi simply, in answer to all three questions. And then he told his story as he had told it to Mother Margherita.
The old man listened pitifully. "Poor little lad!" he said. "Men have been cruel to you, also. You have no home, no friends, no past, and no future. What shall we do with you?"
"Oh, let me stay with you!" cried Gigi, clasping his hands. "You are so good and wise. Teach me! Teach me to be good and wise, too. Take me into your animal kingdom, and teach me to make them all my friends. I could do such tricks with them,--far better than tumbling. I should grow rich!"
The old man shook his head. "That cannot be," he said. "I cannot teach men to grow rich. Nor would I see my animals made ridiculous for money. I came here to be a hermit. I vowed to have nothing more to do with human folk, only with the animals whom they persecute. But I never thought that a child would seek my roof."
Pie looked at Gigi doubtfully. The boy returned the look, and the brown spot on his eyelid trembled piteously. The Hermit blinked.
"Yes, you are a poor little animal, too," he said at last. "You are ignorant and innocent as they. I cannot turn you away. Perhaps I can teach you better things than tricks. Perhaps I can make you a disciple and a Christian. If you are teachable, I can make you wise with the knowledge of herbs and healing. If I send back to the world which I have left one man useful, tender, strong, and good, perhaps he may be able to do more than I have done to stay the march of evil."
Gigi did not understand the words at all, but the tone was kind. He pushed the bandage from his head, looked up at the Hermit, and smiled his own strange smile. "I think you will not beat me," he said. The brown spot on his eyelid gave him the wink of mischief.
"Beat you!" The old man's face broke into an answering smile, and he rocked to and fro with pleasure in Gigi's little joke. Then he bent forward suddenly, and stared into the boy's face with a keen look.
"The wicked eye of him!" he said, talking to himself. "How like it is! Strange, strange! About nine years old, he is. Nine years ago--" He paused, gazing at Gigi, and murmuring under his breath. "What are you wearing about your neck?" he asked suddenly.
Gigi put his hand to a tiny silver chain which just peeped above his green doublet, and drew out a flat piece of silver of strange shape, and with one side carved deeply with a notched Cross.
"Where did you get this?" asked the Hermit, strangely excited.
"I do not know," said Gigi, wondering. "I have worn it always. Not even Cecco dared take it from me. I have heard him say so. But I do not know why!"
"The lost one!" cried the Hermit, embracing Gigi, with tears in his eyes. Then, crossing himself, he added piously, "Dear little lad! We are in the Lord's hands. Gigi, you shall stay with me until the time is come. But you wear the Cross, a blessed emblem. I shall call you no more by that heathen Gypsy name. You shall bear the beloved Christian name of John, to which perhaps you have as good a right as any. Ah! I will not tell you more. I will wait until I see if you be worthy indeed. If not--his son shall never know!"
All this Gigi did not understand. But he was happy to know that he might stay. And he began his new life as one of the Hermit's animal kingdom by hugging close old Brutus, his first four-footed friend, who had brought him safely to this haven. _