He was reflecting.
While he reflected, sitting motionless there, his eyes staring into space, the flame of the tiny petroleum lamp rose, red and smoky, in the tube.

He did not notice it at once.

When he did, he regulated it, and then broke the silence.
"Do you believe," said he, "that you really have a mission ?" Benedetto answered with, an expression of humble fervour.
"Yes, I do believe it." "And why do you believe it ?" "Holy Father, because every one comes into the world with a mission written in his nature.

Had I never had this vision, or received other extraordinary signs, my nature, which is eminently religious, would still have made religious action incumbent upon me.

How can I say it?
But I will say it"-- here Benedetto's voice trembled with emotion--"as I have said it to no one else, I believe, I know that God is the Father of us all; but I feel His paternity in my nature.