I was resting awhile by a reedy pool fringed with gorse and heather, and
was listening to the oriels answering one another upon their Pan-pipes,
when I saw coming towards me a figure which might have disturbed me very
much had I been living in those days when--if there is any truth in
legendary lore--the devil only needed half a pretext for forcing his
society upon lonely travellers. This man--for man it was--had a face
so overgrown with coal-black hair that very little could be seen of
it excepting the eyes and nose. Beard, whiskers, and moustache were
inseparably mixed up. What skin was visible through the matted jungle of
hair was little less swarthy than a Hindu's. All the upper part of this
astonishing head was hidden by a large hat of black straw, shaped like
an inverted washing-basin. The rest of the figure was clad in a frock of
dark-brown serge, with hanging hood. Not expecting to see a Trappist where
I was, I was startled for a moment by the apparition, but I quickly guessed
that this was one of the brothers of the still distant monastery who had
been sent out on some little expedition into the district. As he passed,
he raised his hat just enough to show that the close-cropped black hair
beneath it was turning gray.
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