Do you understand?
And now we will go to the monastery, for it is late!" He rose and obliged Benedetto to do the same.

Above their heads the clock of Santa Scolastica was ringing the hour.

Was it ten o'clock, or was it eleven?
Don Clemente had not counted the strokes from the beginning, and feared the worst; for with all these conflicting emotions he had lost account of time.

What was going to happen?
Who could have foreseen?
And what would take place now?
They left the grassy plateau and started up the steep and rocky mule-path, Don Clemente in front, and Benedetto following close behind; both silent and with stormy souls, while the deep voice of the Anio answered their thoughts.

At a bend of the path they see the lights of distant Subiaco.