CHAPTER XIV
THE HERMIT OF THE CLIFF
The last thing that Robert could remember was the singing of the watersin his ears and a weight as of lead that bore him downward with a forcewhich he felt unable to resist.
But at the critical moment, when the doors of death seemed to beswinging open to admit him, he was firmly seized by a slender, musculararm, extended from a boat shaped somewhat like an Indian canoe and rowedby a tall, thin man with white hair and a long white beard.
In the dusk our hero had not seen the boat nor known that help was sonear at hand. But the occupant of the boat had, from a distance, seenthe going to pieces of the raft, and appreciated the peril of the braveswimmer, and paddled his boat energetically toward him just in time torescue him when already insensible.
Pale and with closed eyes lay Robert in the bottom of the boat. The oldman--for so he appeared--rather anxiously opened the boy's shirt andplaced his hand over his heart. An expression of relief appeared on hisface.
"He will do," he said sententiously and turned his attention to theboat.
Half a mile from the cliff on which stood the fisherman's cabin wasanother, rising to a greater height.
To this the stranger directed his boat. He fastened it and then, raisingour hero in his arms, walked toward the cliff.
There was a cavity as wide as a door, but less in height, through whichhe passed, lowering his head as he entered. Inside the opening steadilywidened and became higher. This cavity was about ten feet above thesandy beach and was reached by a ladder.
On he passed, guided amid the darkness by a light from a lantern hangingfrom the roof. The front portion of the cavern seemed like a hall,through which a narrow doorway led into a larger room, which wasfurnished like the interior of a house. Upon a walnut table stood alamp, which the stranger lighted. He took the boy, already beginning tobreathe more freely, and laid him on a lounge, covered with a buffaloskin, at the opposite side of the apartment. From a shelf he took abottle and administered a cordial to Robert, who, though not yetsensible, mechanically swallowed it.
The effect was almost instantaneous.
The boy opened his eyes and looked about him in bewilderment.
"Where am I?" he inquired.
"What can you remember?" asked the old man.
Robert shuddered.
"I was struggling in the water," he answered. "I thought I wasdrowning."
Then, gazing at the strange apartment and the majestic face of thevenerable stranger, he said hesitatingly:
"Am I still living or was I drowned?"
He was not certain whether he had made the mysterious passage from thisworld to the next, so strange and unfamiliar seemed everything abouthim.
"You are still in life," answered the stranger, smiling gravely. "Godhas spared you, and a long life is yet before you if He wills."
"And you saved me?"
"Yes."
"How can I thank you? I owe you my life," said Robert gratefully.
"I am indebted to you for the opportunity once more to be of use to oneof my race."
"I don't understand how you could have saved me. When I went down Icould see no one near."
"On account of the dusk. I was not far away in my boat. I saw your periland hastened to your assistance. Fortunately I was not too late. Do youknow who it is that has saved you?"
"Yes," answered Robert.
"You have seen me before?"
"Yes, but not often."
"How do people call me?"
"They call you 'the hermit of the cliff.'"
"As well that as anything else," said the old man. "What more do theysay of me?"
Robert seemed reluctant to tell, but there was something imperative inthe old man's tone.
"Some say you are crazy," he answered.
"I am not surprised to hear it. The world is apt to say that of one whobehaves differently from his fellows. But I must not talk too much ofmyself. How do you feel?"
"I feel weak," answered Robert.
"Doubtless. Swimming against such a current was a severe strain uponyour strength. Let me feel your pulse."
He pressed his finger upon Robert's pulse and reported that the actionwas slow.
"It means exhaustion," he said. "You must sleep well, and to-morrowmorning you will feel as well as usual."
"But I ought to go home," said Robert, trying to rise. "My aunt willfeel anxious about me."
"Who is your aunt?"
"I am the nephew of John Trafton, who has a small house on the cliff."
"I know. He is a fisherman."
"Yes, sir."
"Don't disturb yourself. Word shall be sent to your aunt that you aresafe. I will give you a sleeping draught, and tomorrow morning we willspeak further."
Somehow Robert did not dream of resisting the will of his host. The oldman had an air of command to which it seemed natural to submit.Moreover, he knew that to this mysterious stranger--the hermit of thecliff, as the fishermen called him--he was indebted for his life, andsuch a man must necessarily be his friend. Robert was, besides, in thatcondition of physical languor when, if he had felt disposed, he wouldhave found it very difficult to make resistance to the will of another.
"First of all," said the old man, "you must take off your wet clothes. Iwill place them where they can dry, so that you may put them on in themorning."
With assistance Robert divested himself of his wet garments. As we know,he had little to take off. The stranger brought out a nightgown and thenplaced our hero in his own bed, wrapping him up in blankets.
"Now for the sleeping draught," he said.
From a bottle he poured out a few drops, which Robert swallowed. In lessthan three minutes he had closed his eyes and was in a profoundslumber.
The old man regarded him with satisfaction as he lay breathingtranquilly upon the bed.
"He is young and strong. Nature has been kind to him and given him anexcellent constitution. Sleep will repair the ill effects of exposure. Imust remember my promise to the boy," he said.
Turning to the table, he drew from a drawer writing materials and wrotethe brief message which, as we have already seen, was duly delivered,and then walked to the entrance of the cavern.
He placed a whistle to his lips, and in response to his summons a blackdog came bounding to him from the recesses of the grotto and fawned uponhim.
"Come with me, Carlo; I have work for you," he said.
The dog, as if he understood, followed his master out upon the beach.
They walked far enough to bring into clear distinctness the cabin on thecliff.
"Do you see that house. Carlo?" asked his master, directing the dog'sattention with his outstretched finger.
Carlo answered by a short, quick bark, which apparently meant "yes."
"Carry this note there. Do you understand?"
The dog opened his mouth to receive the missive and trotted contentedlyaway.
The hermit turned and retraced his steps to the cavern. He stood besidethe bed and saw, to his satisfaction, that Robert was still sleepingpeacefully.
"It is strange," said he musingly, "that I should feel such an interestin this boy. I had forsworn all intercourse with my kind, save toprovide myself with the necessaries of life. For two years I have livedhere alone with my dog and I fancied that I felt no further interest inthe affairs of my fellow men. Yet here is a poor boy thrown on my hands,and I feel positive pleasure in having him with me. Yet he is nothing tome. He belongs to a poor fisherman's family, and probably he isuneducated, and has no tastes in common with me. Yet he is an attractiveboy. He has a well-shaped head and a bright eye. There must be acapacity for something better and higher. I will speak with him in themorning."
He opened a volume from his bookcase, to which reference has not as yetbeen made, and for two hours he seemed to be absorbed by it.
Closing it at length, he threw himself upon the couch on which Roberthad at first been placed and finally fell asleep.