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o not know what I should have done, for when the Holy Father speaks I obey; if the Holy Father does not speak, I reflect. But, fortunately for you, you had already started. There are really some good people who will ferret out heretics in Paradise itself! Now you tell me that your conscience is quiet. Am I not then to believe what the letter says?" Don Clemente replied that there had certainly been neither heretics nor schismatics at Signor Selva's house. They had talked of the Church, of her ills, and of possible remedies, but in the same spirit in which the Abbot himself might speak. "No, my son," the Abbot answered. "It is not for me to reflect upon the ills of the Church, or upon possible remedies. Or rather, I may reflect upon these matters, but I must speak of them only to God, that He Himself may then speak of them to the proper persons. And do you do the same. Bear this in mind, my son! The ills exist, and perhaps the remedies also exist, but--who knows?--these remedies may be poisons, and we must let the Great Healer apply them. We, for our part, must pray. If we did not believe in the communion of saints, what would, there be to do in the monasteries? So for the sake of our peace of mind, my son, do not return to that house. Do not again ask permission to go there." The Abbot had ended in a paternal tone, and now laid an affectionate hand upon his monk's shoulder. Don Clemente was much grieved at the thought of not seeing his good friends again, and especially not to be able to confer with Signor Giovanni the next day, to warn him of Benedetto's danger, and to consult with him concerning a means of defence. "They are Christians of gold," he said sadly, and in submissive tones. "I believe you," replied the Abbot. "They are probably far better than the zealots who write these letters. You see I speak my mind. You come from Brescia, eh? Well, I come from Bergamo. In either place they would be called _piaghe_--festers! They are indeed festers of the Church. I shall answer in a fitting tone. My monks take no part in meetings of heretics. But, nevertheless, you will not revisit the Selvas." Don Clemente kissed the hand of the fatherly old man resignedly. "And now I come to the other question," said the Abbot. "I learn that a young man whom you installed there has lived for three years at the _Ospizio_ for pilgrims, where, as a rule, only the herder should have a permanent abode. Oh, I know, of course,
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