I locked the door of the hermitage and walked all around the inside.I found a huge jug of good wine,another one full of oil,and two crocks of honey.He had two sides of bacon,a good quantity of jerked beef,and some dried fruit.I liked all of this very much,but it wasn't what I was looking for.I found his chests full of linens,and in the corner of one of them was a woman's dress.This surprised me,but what surprised me even more was that such a well-provided man wouldn't have any money.I went to the grave to ask him where he had put it.
It seemed to me that after I had asked him he answered:"You stupid fellow.Do you think that living out here in the country the way I do,at the mercy of thieves and bandits,I would keep it in a coffer where I'd be in danger of losing what I loved more than my own life?"
It was as if I had really heard this inspiration from his mouth,and it made me look around in every corner.But when I didn't find anything,I thought:If I were going to hide money here so no one else could find it,where would I put it?And I said to myself:In that altar.I went over to it and took the frontpiece of the altar off the pedestal,which was made of mud and clay.On one side I saw a crack that a silver coin could fit into.My blood started humming,and my heart began to flutter.I picked up a spade,and in less than two clouts I had half the altar on the ground,and I discovered the relics that were buried there.I found a jar full of coins.I counted them,and there were six hundred silver pieces.I was so overjoyed at the discovery that I thought I would die.I took the money out of there and dug a hole outside the hermitage where I buried it so that if they turned me out of there I would have what I loved most outside.
When this was done I put on the hermit's garb and went into town to tell the prior of the brotherhood what had happened.But first I didn't forget to put the altar back the way it had been before.I found all the members of the brotherhood that the hermitage depended on together there.The hermitage was dedicated to Saint Lazarus,and I thought that was a good sign for me.The members saw that I was already gray-haired and of an exemplary appearance,which is the most important part of positions like this.There was,however,one difficulty,and that was that I didn't have a beard.I had sheared it off such a short time before that it hadn't yet sprung back.But even with this,seeing by the shepherds'story that the dead man had left me as his heir,they turned the hermitage over to me.
About this business of beards,I remember what a friar told me once:In his order,and even in the most reformed orders,they wouldn't make anyone a Superior unless he had a good beard.So it happened that some of them who were very capable of being in that position were excluded,and others who were woolly were given the position (as if good administration depended on hair and not on mature,capable understanding).
They warned me to live with the virtuous character and good reputation my predecessor had had,which was so great that everyone thought him a saint.I promised them I would live like a Hercules.They advised me to beg for alms only on Tuesdays and Saturdays because if I did it any other day the friars would punish me.I promised to do whatever they ordered me,and I especially didn't want to make enemies of them because I had previously experienced the taste of their hands.I began to beg for alms from door to door,with a low,humble,devout tone,the way I had learned in the blind man's school.I didn't do this because I was in need,but because it's the beggar's character that the more they have the more they ask for and the more pleasure they get from doing it.The people who heard me calling,"Alms for the candles of Saint Lazarus,"and didn't recognize my voice,came out their doors and were astonished when they saw me.They asked me where Father Anselmo was (that was the name of the good old fellow).I told them he had died.
Some said,"May he rest in peace,he was such a good man Others said,"His soul is in the glory of God."
And some,"God bless the man whose life was like his:he ate nothing warm for six years."
And others,"He lived on bread and water."
Some of the foolish pious women got down on their knees and called on the name of Father Anselmo.One asked me what I had done with his garb.I told her I was wearing it.She took out some scissors,and without saying what she wanted she began to cut a piece from the first part she found,which was the crotch.When I saw her going after that part,I started to shout because I thought she was trying to castrate me.
When she saw how upset I was,she said,"Don't worry,brother.I want some relics from that blessed man,and I'll pay you for the damage to your robe."
"Oh,"some said,"before six months are up they are certain to canonize him because he's performed so many miracles."
So many people came to see his grave that the house was always full,so I had to move the grave out to a shelter in front of the hermitage.From then on I didn't beg alms for the candles of Saint Lazarus,but for the blessed Father Anselmo.I have never understood this business of begging alms to light the candles of saints.But I don't want to continue on this note because it will sound bad.I wasn't at all interested in going to the city because I had everything I wanted at the hermitage.But,so no one could say I was rich and that's why I didn't go out begging alms,I went the next day,and there something happened to me that you'll find out if you read.
