e _Quattrocento_. How could that face
harmonise with peasant's attire? In his heart Don Clemente congratulated
himself upon a thought which he had conceived during the night, and
had already communicated to the Abbot, namely, to give Benedetto an old
lay-brother's habit. Before consenting or refusing the Abbot wished to
see Benedetto and speak with him.

The Abbot, while waiting for Benedetto, was strumming with his knuckles
a piece of his own composition, accompanying the sound with horrible
contortions of lips, nostrils and eyebrows. Upon hearing a gentle knock
at the door, he neither answered nor stopped playing. Having finished
the piece he began it again, and played it a second time from beginning
to end. Then he stopped and listened. Another knock was heard, more
gentle than the first. The Abbot exclaimed.

"_Seccatore_! Some bore!"

After some angry chords he began playing chromatic scales. From
chromatic scales he passed to broken chords. Then he listened again for
three or four minutes. Hearing nothing more he went to open the door,
and perceived Benedetto, who fell upon his knees.

"Who are you?" he demanded roughly.

"My name is Piero Maironi," Benedetto answered; "but here at the
monastery they call me Benedetto."

And he made a movement to take the Abbot's hand and kiss it.

"One moment," said the Abbot, frowning, withdrawing and raising his
hand. "What are you doing here?"

"I work in the kitchen garden," Benedetto replied.

"Fool!" exclaimed the Abbot. "I ask what you are doing here outside my
door?"

"I was coming to see you, Padre."

"Who told you to come to me?"

"Don Clemente."

The Abbot was silent, and studied the kneeling man for some time; then
he grumbled something incomprehensible, and offered him his hand to
kiss.

"Rise!" said he, still sharply. "Come in. Close the door."

When Benedetto had entered the Abbot appeared to forget him. He put on
his glasses and began turning over the leaves of a book and glancing
through the papers on his desk. In an attitude of soldierly respect,
holding himself very erect, Benedetto stood, waiting for him to speak.

"Maironi of Brescia?" said the Abbot, in the same unfriendly tone as
before, and without turning round.

Having received an answer he continued to turn the pages and read.
Finally he removed his glasses and turned round.

"What did you come here to Santa Scolastica for?" said he.

"I was a great sinner," Benedetto answered,