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Don Clemente's arrival at that point gave him a moment of relief. "Now," he told himself, "he will help me." But, on the contrary, things were worse than ever. When he had heard Don Clemente's sad message the strange priest exclaimed: "You see! That is how these miracles end. You must not enter that heretic's house with the holy viaticum, unless he has first left it, and left it never to return."
Don Clemente stroked his hair, calling him softly. The young man started, raised his head with a dazed look, and, springing out of bed, grasped and kissed Don Clemente's hand. The monk withdrew it with an impulse of humility, quickly checked by the purity of his soul, by his consciousness of the dignity of his office. "Well?" he said. "Did the Lord speak to you?"
His eyes flashed, his brow shone with the august light of the spirit of Truth. He placed his hands on Don Clemente's shoulders. "Dear Master," he said, his face softening, "I am leaving the roof, the bread, the habit which were offered me, but while I have life, I will not cease telling of Christ, who is the Truth! I go forth, but not to remain silent.
For her own peace of mind, as well as for Don Clemente's, her brother-in-law would not wish Jeanne Dessalle to return to Subiaco. It was Noemi's mission to convince her of the propriety of such a renunciation. Selva was restored to health, and had himself offered to come and meet his sister-in-law, would even come to Belgium, were it necessary.
He sought to avoid this, saying he did not feel himself worthy. "I am only the poor blind man, whose eyes Christ has opened with clay." Don Clemente did not appear to have heard. He knelt down saying, "Bless me, also!" With humble obedience Benedetto laid his hand on Don Clemente's head, said the words of the ritual benediction, and kissed him. He did the same with all the others, one by one.
Don Clemente's heart did not speak precisely thus, but the heart's imprudent, undisciplined words were not allowed to pass his lips. "After all, Padre mio," Benedetto continued, "believe me, I am not banished because I preached the Gospel to the people. There are two things you must know. The first is this.
"No, no, go away, go away!" The Abbot's voice trembled with anger. Benedetto obeyed. Hardly had he reached the corridor when he heard the angry man thundering on the piano. Before entering Don Clemente's little cell, Benedetto stopped before the great window at the end of the corridor.
He intended to pass the night under some tree, and, on the morrow, go to Subiaco; from there, with Don Clemente's aid, he would go to Tivoli, where he knew a good old priest, who was in the habit of coming to Santa Scolastica from time to time. He no longer thought of accepting the Selvas' hospitality, which would have been precious to him.
"You recalled this because I mentioned Don Clemente," said Giovanni smiling. "Yes," replied his wife; "nevertheless, you know I do not believe." How could Don Clemente's lofty forehead, his blue eyes, so serene and pure, have known passion? In the soft, submissive, almost timid voice of the young Benedictine there was to Maria's mind a chastity too delicate, a purity too virginal.
Don Clemente's face flushed. "He is not a heretic," said he. "He is a man of God!" "You say so!" the other retorted. "And you, consider well!" he added, turning to the parish priest. "But, after all, you are free to act as you please. It is none of my business. A rivederla!" Having bowed to Don Clemente, he slipped out of the room, without another word. "And now?
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