ble religious office. The Abbot wished to speak with you before
deciding."

Here Don Clemente kissed his disciple on the forehead, thus intimating
what the Abbot's decision had been after their meeting; and into the
kiss he put silent words of praise which his fatherly character and the
humility of his disciple would not permit him to utter.

He did not notice that the disciple was trembling from head to foot.

"Here is what the Abbot wrote after talking with you," said he.

He showed Benedetto the sheet of paper, upon which the Abbot had
written:

"I consent. Send him away at once, that I may not be tempted to detain
him!"

Benedetto embraced his master impulsively, and rested his forehead
against his shoulder without speaking. Don Clemente murmured: "Are you
glad? Now it is I who ask you!"

He repeated his question twice without obtaining an answer. At last he
heard a whisper:

"May I be allowed not to answer? May I pray a moment?"

"Yes, _caro_, yes!"

Beside the monk's narrow bed, and high above the kneeling-desk, a great
bare cross proclaimed: "Christ is risen; now nail thy soul to me!" In
fact some one, perhaps Don Clemente, perhaps one of his predecessors,
had written, below it: "_Omnes superbiae motus ligno crucis affigat_."
Benedetto prostrated himself on the floor, and placed his forehead where
the knees should rest. Through the open window of the cell, the pale
light of the rainy sky fell obliquely upon the backs of the prostrate
man and of the man standing erect, his face raised towards the great
cross. The murmur of the rain, the rumble of the deep Anio, would have
meant to Jeanne the distressed lament of all that lives and loves in the
world; to Don Clemente they meant the pious union of inferior creatures
with the creature supplicating the common Father. Benedetto himself did
not notice them.

He rose, his face composed, and, in obedience to his master's gesture,
put on the robe of a lay-brother, which was spread out upon the bed,
and fastened the leathern girdle. When he was dressed he opened wide his
arms and displayed himself, smiling to his master, who was gratified to
see how dignified, how spiritually beautiful he was in that habit.

"You did not understand?" said Benedetto. "You were not reminded of
something?"

No, Don Clemente had thought that Benedetto's intense emotion had been
caused by his humility. Now he understood that he should have recalled
something; but what?

"Ah!"