Through the open window of the cell, the pale light of the rainy sky fell obliquely upon the backs of the prostrate man and of the man standing erect, his face raised towards the great cross.

The murmur of the rain, the rumble of the deep Anio, would have meant to Jeanne the distressed lament of all that lives and loves in the world; to Don Clemente they meant the pious union of inferior creatures with the creature supplicating the common Father.

Benedetto himself did not notice them.
He rose, his face composed, and, in obedience to his master's gesture, put on the robe of a lay-brother, which was spread out upon the bed, and fastened the leathern girdle.

When he was dressed he opened wide his arms and displayed himself, smiling to his master, who was gratified to see how dignified, how spiritually beautiful he was in that habit.
"You did not understand ?" said Benedetto.

"You were not reminded of something ?" No, Don Clemente had thought that Benedetto's intense emotion had been caused by his humility.