eaves, or the roots I may even say, for there a
poisonous draught might reach them, or a spade reveal their presence,
and they do not wish to be reached, do not wish to be seen. They bore
into the marrow. These two have already reached the marrow. Perhaps it
may not be for a month, perhaps not for two months; but the plant is
doomed to wither, and wither it must!"

"But what do you yourself think about it?" Maria inquired. "Does this
man really pretend to be a saint? Is he pleased that these superstitious
people quarrel about him in this way? Is it true he has healed the
sick?"

The doctor continued to laugh while she was speaking.

"I laugh," he answered. "It is a ease of contagious, mystic psychopathy!
But you must excuse me now, for I am due at Subiaco at eight o'clock. I
hope you will enjoy yourselves. May your visit divert you,"

With this malicious thrust, he shook the reins on the mule's neck, and
rode on, fearing he might be obliged to give proofs of what he asserted.
Noemi, who was the most agitated of the party at the prospect of seeing
the man Jeanne loved, began to feel weary. They halted a second time
at the foot of the slope of Jenne, on the gravel across which shallow
rivulets streak, flowing down to the river from the grotto of the
Infernillo. Someone was approaching them from behind. What a surprise!
What a pleasure! Don Clemente! The Padre's fine face lit up also. He
loved and respected Giovanni for a true Christian, and sometimes had to
struggle against the temptation to judge his superior, the Abbot, who
had forbidden him to visit Giovanni, to struggle against the temptation
to appeal to Someone greater than abbots, greater than pontiffs, in his
own soul. This Someone was saying to him now: "The meeting is My gift!"
and so the monk joined his friends joyfully. Maria presented him to
Noemi, and he blushed again on recognising the woman he had mistaken for
Benedetto's temptress.

"And your friend?" he inquired, trembling lest he be informed of her
presence there. Upon being reassured a look of relief flashed across
his face. Noemi smiled at this, and he, noticing her smile, was greatly
embarrassed. The others smiled also, but no one spoke. Giovanni was the
first to break the silence. Surely Don Clemente was, like themselves,
on his way to Jenne? Perhaps he was going there for the same purpose,
to see the same person, the gardener, eh? the gardener of that famous
evening? Ah! Don Clemente, Don Clem