e, but I fear he
is less. Did you see the two sick people? did you see the students
from Rome? Ah! you will see other astonishing things, other astonishing
things! But, after all, I am afraid he is less than a pope! A pleasant
journey to you!"

Beyond the cross, they ascended with the open sky before them, between
the green ridges, which slope downward, forming the lonely hollow of
Jenne, which is crowned on the opposite side with that wretched herd of
poor dwellings, dominated by the campanile. Giovanni had been to Jenne
before, but it did not seem to him in any way changed because a saint
now lived there, and miracles were performed there. It impressed his
wife, who now saw it for the first time, as a spot which might inspire
religious contemplation, by that sense of altitude, not suggested by
distant views, by that deep sky behind the village, by its solitude, its
silence. Noemi was thinking with profound pity of poor far-away Jeanne.

III. The innkeeper at Jenne was a worthy, gravely courteous man, in
spectacles, who, having been to America, could be said to know the
world, but who seemed to have escaped its corrupting influences. To the
new-comers he spoke of Benedetto favourably, on the whole, but with a
certain diplomatic reserve. He did not call him "the Saint," he called
him "Fra Benedetto." The Selvas learned from him that Benedetto occupied
a cabin belonging to the innkeeper himself, in payment of which he
tilled a small piece of ground. Those who wished to see him must
wait until eleven o'clock. Now he was mowing the grass. His life was
regulated in the following manner: At dawn he went to hear the parish
priest say Mass, then he worked until eleven. He ate only bread, herbs,
and fruit and drank only water. In the afternoon he worked in the fields
of widows and orphans. In the evening, seated before his door, he talked
of religion.

At half-past eleven, the Selvas and Noemi accompanied by the innkeeper's
wife--a fine, big woman, very neat, very simple, and gay in a quiet
way--went to visit Sant' Andrea, the church of Jenne. Coming out into
the open square from the maze of narrow lanes, where stands the inn,
they found a large assemblage of women, strangers, so the hostess said.
She could distinguish them by their corselets, their fustian skirts,
their foot-gear. Those were from Trevi, those from Filettino, and those
others from Vallepietra. The hostess went into a bakehouse on the
right of the church, w