an was abandoned. Minucci guessed
his motive, and was silent; but the thoughtless Don Paolo did not
understand, and insisted that they should deliberate and vote at
once. Selva, and di Leyni also--out of respect for Giovanni's
wishes--persuaded him to wait. Nevertheless he continued to fume, his
vexation directed mainly against the Swiss. Dane and Don Clemente were
dissatisfied, each for a reason of his own; Dane being at heart vexed
with Marinier, and sorry he had brought him; while Don Clemente would
have liked to say that Padre Salvati's words were very beautiful and
holy, and not out of season, because it was right that each should
labour according to his vocation, the intellectualist in one way,
the Franciscan in another. He who called them would provide for the
co-ordination of their actions. The different vocations might well be
united in the League. He would have liked to say this, but he had not
been prepared, and had let the right moment pass; partly from mental
shyness, fearing he should not speak well, partly out of consideration
for Selva, who evidently wished to cut the meeting short. It was cut
short, for all rose, and all, save Dane and Giovanni, went out to the
terrace.

The Abbe Marinier proposed going to Santa Scolastica and the Sacro
Speco on the morrow, returning perhaps to Rome by way of Olevano and
Palestrina, that road being new to him. Could any one show him the way
from the terrace? Don Clemente pointed out the road. It was the same
that he had followed as he came from Subiaco. It passed just below them,
crossed the Anio a little to the left, by the Ponte di S. Mauro, turned
to the right, and then rose towards the hills of Affile, over yonder.
The air rose to them laden with the odours of the woods, of the narrow
gorge below the convents, from whence the river issued. The sky was
overcast save just above the Francolano. There, over the great black
mountain, two stars trembled; Minucci called di Leyni's attention to
them.

"See how those two little stars flash," said he.

"Dante would say they are the 'little flames' of San Benedetto and Santa
Scolastica, glittering because they perceive, in the shadow, a soul akin
to theirs."

"You speak of saints?" said Marinier, drawing near. "A few minutes ago
I inquired whether you had a saint among you, and I expressed the hope
that you might possess one. These were simply oratorical figures, for
I know well enough that you have no saint. Had you one,