n the midst of the prostrate crowd, surrounded by sunshine
and moving shadows he seemed an apparition such as visited the old
masters. Noemi stood as if turned to stone, a great sob in her throat.
Near her, several women were weeping for the joy of having seen him,
and influenced by reciprocal hypnotism. One, who was ill and weary,
had seated herself on the edge of the path, where she could not see the
Saint, and was weeping from excitement, without knowing why. Some late
arrivals came forward, an old man and three women from Vallepietra. The
three women immediately mistook Don Clemente for Benedetto, and burst
out sobbing and exclaiming: "How beautiful he is, how beautiful!"

In the meantime Benedetto, standing under the little white cloud of
the flowering apple tree, had succeeded, with words of sorrow, of
supplication, of reproach, in repulsing the assault of the adoring
throng, and in bringing the people to their feet. A cry went up from the
group of students: "Speak!" Just at that moment the bells of Jenne, far
up above them, solemnly announced the hour of noon to the village, to
the solitudes, to Monte Leo, to Monte Sant' Antonio, to Monte Altuino,
and to the clouds, sailing westwards. Benedetto laid his finger on his
lips, the bells alone spoke. He glanced at Don Clemente, and his look
seemed to convey a tacit invitation. Don Clemente bared his head,
and began to recite the _Angelus Domini_. Benedetto, erect, his hands
clasped, said it with him, and, as long as the bells continued to ring,
kept his gaze fixed on the young man who had shouted to him to speak;
his eyes were full of sadness, of mystic sweetness. That ineffable look,
the pealing of the solemn-voiced bells, the trembling of the grass, the
gentle waving in the breeze of the flowery branches, the rapt expression
of so many tearful faces, all turned towards this one face, were blended
for Noemi into a single word, which thrilled her while it evaded her,
as the soul is tormented by the longing for that occult word which
underlies a tragic procession of harmonious chords. The bells ceased,
and Benedetto said gently to those nearest him:

"Who are you, and what has happened that you come to me as if I were
that which I am not?"

Several voices answered at once; he was informed of the miracle, and of
how he was wanted in this village and in that.

"You exalt me," said he, "because you are blind. If this girl is healed,
not I have healed her, but her faith