The air was dank and cold and presently obscene with the smell of
bats, and alive with their wings, as they came sweeping about us,
gibbering and squeaking. I thought of the rush of the ghosts, blown
like dead leaves in the Odyssey. And then a small rock chamber
branched off, and in this, lit by a bit of burning wood, we saw the
bones of a holy man who lived and died there four hundred years
ago.
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