Nevertheless, the spell had been broken, and he was not destined to a much longer period of solitude. Less than a month had passed when another visitor appeared upon the Silver Peak, this one with no higher purpose than a desire to look upon the hermit. He also, however, brought with him a gift, and remained and ate with Oman, who conversed with him without much constraint, out of a kind of eager desire to convince himself that the life of men was really as troublous as of old. This fellow departed, carrying with him a glowing report of the tractability of the holy man, and the great wisdom he had gained from conversing with him. And this tale destroyed Oman’s peace; for it brought upon him a perfect deluge of visitors, of every degree, male and female, whom, in the beginning, he helplessly received, and gave of his store of wisdom, replying to their innumerable questions with the patience of a child. Among these pilgrims to his shrine were Poussa and her guardian, who, when they learned that he still dwelt so close above them, lost no time in seeking him. And Poussa, indeed, Oman greeted with real pleasure; providing her with the choicest of his fare, of which he by now had some variety; for many of his visitors brought gifts of food, which, his stock of grain running low under the demand, he perforce accepted. Moreover, he was now clad in a new robe, finer of texture and richer as to border than any he had ever worn. From Poussa, however, he would accept nothing, reminding her that she had long since made him her debtor for what he could never repay. And the girl and her guardian left the mountain top after promising to repeat their visit. For some weeks, buoyed up by the thought of genuine friendship, Oman continued to let himself be seen, treated his visitors with courtesy, and occasionally accepted some of their gifts. But after another month of it, he grew sick of the servility of his visitors and the transparent curiosity with which they regarded him; and, taking with him only a pouch full of grain from his small store, he disappeared into the forest of the east slope, and remained there for a fortnight, till hunger drove him home again. It was sunset of an October day when he reappeared upon the height, and, arriving at his cave, found it already tenanted. Across the threshold, motionless, unconscious, lay the body of an old man, shrunken and pitiably emaciated, clad in a tattered robe, a much-used staff lying at his side.