Were they not, indeed, stars? He was obliged to remind himself
of the feeling of the bed, and that he was alive, in order to convince
himself that they were stars, but that he was not lying on the moon.
Where was he, then? He gave himself up to a sense of sweetness which was
coming over him, the sweetness of hardly feeling his body any longer,
but of feeling God in his soul, so near, so tender, so warm. He was
where God wished him to be.
A hand was laid on his forehead, an electric light dazzled his eyes, and
an affectionate, strong voice said:
"Well, how do you feel?"
He recognised Mayda. Then he asked him where he was, why he was not in
his little old room? Before the Professor could answer, Benedetto was
assailed by a painful doubt. The Crucifix? The dear Crucifix? Had it
been left at the Senator's house? The Crucifix was standing on the table
by his side. The Professor showed it to him.
"Do you not remember," he said, using the affectionate "thou", "that we
brought it with us?"
Benedetto looked at him, pleased at the new word of affection, and
stretched out his hand in search of Mayda's; the Professor took it
tenderly between his own.
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