Jeanne went out; absorbed in her burning thoughts she passed the gate, turned to the right, entered the gallery below the library, where she paused a moment, pressing her hands to her heart, and walked on again.
The herder belonging to the convent, standing at the entrance to the courtyard where the Ospizio, which shelters pilgrims, is located, pointed out the door of the garden on the opposite side of the narrow lane, running between two walls.

She asked him if she would find a certain Benedetto in the garden.

In spite of her efforts to control herself, her voice trembled in anticipation of an affirmative answer.
The herder replied that he did not know, and offered to go and see.
Knocking several times, he called: "Benede! Benede!" A step at last! Jeanne was leaning against the door-post to keep herself from falling.

O God! if it be Piero, what shall she say to him?
The door opens; it is not Piero but an old man.

Jeanne breathes freely again, glad for the moment.