Behind the higher one, on the left,
huge black trees rustled loudly in the west wind, which had torn the
clouds asunder. In the background, the Janiculum and St. Peter's loomed
black in the pale starlight. It was a narrow footpath. Was that where
the Signore must get out to go to Villa Mayda? No, but the Signore was
determined to get out at any cost, to quit that poisoned carriage. He
dragged himself as far as Sant' Anselmo, struggling with his poor weak
body and with the wind. Exhausted once more, he thought of asking the
monks for hospitality, but did not do so. He went down, skirting the
great silent refuge of peace belonging to the Benedictines, passed,
sighing, before the closed door, which said in vain _quieti et amicis_,
and at last reached the gate of Villa Mayda.
The gardener came, half dressed, to open the gate, and was greatly
astonished to see him. He said he had believed he was in prison, because
a _delegato_ and a policeman had been there to look for him at about
nine o'clock. Indeed the _Signora_, the Professor's daughter-in-law, had
at once ordered the servants not to admit him if he returned, but the
order had been angrily countermanded by the Professor himself, to the
great joy of the gardener, who was as fond of Benedetto and of the
master as he was averse to the _Signora_.
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