With an agility of which I should not have thought him capable, he climbed up the steep side of his resting-place, carefully helping Mistress Nancy all the time, until he came to a doorway seemingly hewn out of the rock; having told her to enter, he rendered a similar service to Amelia Lanteglos, while I stood and watched him like one dazed. CHAPTER XII. ROCHE ROCK. "Come, Roger Trevanion," he said presently, "yet there is room." "The horses?" I queried. "Ah yes," he said, quickly coming to me. "I can make no provision for them." I gave a gesture of impatience. "You have a story to tell me, Roger Trevanion," he said, "and it is well it should be told quickly. But there is plenty of grass on the moors, and your horse obeys you like a Christian. Take off the saddle, and tell it to go yonder out of sight, and the other will follow." I was not long in doing his bidding. I pulled off the head-gearing and saddles from both the animals, and then I told Chestnut what I wanted him to do. I am sure he understood me perfectly, for he trotted some distance across the moors, the other nag following as Uncle Anthony had said. "There be many horses grazing on these moors," said the old man, as though he divined the thoughts in my mind, "so yours will attract no notice." I looked around me again, and then up at the vast mass of bluish schorl rock on which the lonely chapel was built. "A wise man doth mount the high rock, and rest in peace," he said, repeating the very words he had used when I had seen him at Endellion, only now he spoke like a man of learning and not in the Cornish vernacular as he had spoken then. "Happy are they who in trouble seek the shelter of the wise man's high place." "I remember," I replied, "that is why I came." "You will not be troubled," he said, "it hath a bad name. Spirits of the dead are said to haunt this moor." "The Killigrews fear not man nor devil, especially Otho," I replied. "Come, you have much to tell me," was his answer. "At present no man is in sight, but come. The lady Nancy and her serving-maid will want food and rest, and there is trouble in your eyes." I followed him as he climbed towards the summit of his hiding-place, but I found it a difficult task, for it was almost perpendicular; the foot-places were but narrow, too, and the holding-places few. But Uncle Anthony went easily, like one who had ascended and descended many times, as indeed he had. I discovered that the building in which the old man lived was divided into two apartments. The one he had used for domestic purposes, and the other for prayer and meditation. The latter was the one known at St. Michael's Chapel. "It is but little I can offer," remarked he; "but such as I have give I unto thee. Come, we will go where the lady and her serving-maid resteth."