the open bed of the roaring Anio. The mass of
cloud which had rested on the heights of Jenne was rising and invading
the sky. A wave of shadow passed over the enormous crag, over the
monastery, over the parapet upon which Noemi had rested her elbows, lost
in contemplation.

"This is magnificent!" she said. "Let us stop here a few seconds at
least, now that it is shady,"

But at that moment the little door of the monastery, not two steps from
them, opened and a party of visitors, men and women, came out. The monk
who had acted as guide, seeing Noemi and Jeanne, held the door open,
expecting them to enter. Jeanne hastened to do so, and Noemi, much
against her will, followed her,

"Thirteenth century frescoes," said the Benedictine, in the dark
entrance-hall, in an indifferent tone, as he passed on. Noemi stopped,
curiously regarding the ancient paintings. Jeanne followed the
Benedictine, looking neither to right nor left, distracted, tormented by
a doubt. What if the Abbot had been mistaken, if the beggar had told
the truth? She recalled in fancy the happy meeting in the courtyard at
Praglia, the intense pallor of his face, the "Thank you!" which had made
her tremble with joy. A shiver ran through her blood, and, as though
with a sudden pull at the reins of her imagination, she turned to Noemi:
"Come!" she said.

She followed the monk, hearing nothing that he said, observing
nothing that he pointed out. Noemi found it difficult to hide her own
uneasiness, for she had a presentiment of evil on their return. The
dangerous point was the garden at Santa Scolastica, which, judging by
what she had said to the old gardener, Jeanne intended to revisit. She
no longer wished to see this famous Maironi; she longed only to get
Jeanne safely back to the Selvas', without any meetings, and she
intended to tarry as long as possible at the Sacro Speco, that they
might not have time to stop at Santa Scolastica. She therefore pretended
to take a lively interest in the precious interior of this monastery,
which has such a bare and dreary exterior, while all the while her
one wish was to revisit it more peacefully with her sister or her
brother-in-law.

Upon descending into that mine of holiness, neither of them understood
what road they were following, surrounded as they were by the lifeless,
cold atmosphere, the mystic shadows, the yellowish lights falling from
above, the odours of damp stone, of smoking wicks, of musty draperies;
b