"Padre!" Coming forward, his arms spread wide, an old man, tall, thin,
toothless, with the profile of the eagle, interrupted him in a solemn
voice. "Padre, we do not ask for a miracle, the miracle is already
performed. The woman was healed when she touched the man's dwelling, and
we say to you that the man is saintly, and that if there are those in
Jenne who speak differently, they are worthy to burn in the very bottom
of hell! _Padre_, we kiss your hands, but we say this."

"There is another to be healed, another to be healed!" ten, twenty
voices cried. "Let the Saint come!"

Among the students forming the rear-guard voices shouted: "Bring the
Saint forward! Let the Saint speak!"

"What actions are these?" the old man exclaimed, turning round with
the indignation of the popular orator who finds himself deposed. "What
actions are these?"

A rumble of angry voices drowned his words, and the students continued
to shout louder than ever:

"The Saint! Let the Saint speak! Away with the priest! Away with him!"

The women turned threateningly:

"Away with you, yourselves! Away with you!"

Up above, among the hovels perched on the hillside, the plumes of the
_carabinieri_ appeared. Then Benedetto rose, and came out into the open.

As soon as the people perceived him, they greeted him with a great,
joyous clamour. The Selvas went to the door of the cave and looked down.
Noemi ran swiftly down the hill. In a second Benedetto found himself
surrounded by people kissing his habit, and pouring out blessings upon
him. Many were weeping, on their knees. Noemi, who had rushed down alone
behind the students, pressed forward, and saw the man, at last!

Jeanne had shown her several photographs of him, telling her at the same
time that no one of them was entirely satisfactory. In Piero Maironi's
winning face Noemi had noticed a shade of sadness; Benedetto's face
shone with extraordinary vivacity. Two days before he had had his
hair and beard shaved, because he had heard a woman murmur: "He is as
beautiful as Jesus Himself!" The expression of the dominating soul in
him had become more marked; the nose had grown more prominent through
his increased fleshlessness, there were great dark rings under his eyes.
The eyes had an ineffable fascination. They still wore an expression of
sadness, but of sweet sadness, full of vigour, of peace, and of mystic
devotion. Standing there, under the little white cloud of the flowering
apple tree, i