He took his pinch of snuff with a loud noise, and went on:
“Neither in it nor out of it!”
Benedetto looked at him without answering. In those eyes there was something so serious and so sweet, that the Abbot lowered his to the open snuff-box, once more dipping his fingers into it and toying with the snuff.
“I do not understand you,” he said.
“You are of the world, and still you are not of it. You are in the monastery, and still you are not in the monastery. I fear your head serves you no better than your great-grandfather’s, your grandfather’s, and your father’s served them. Fine heads, those!”
Benedetto’s ivory face flushed slightly.
“They are souls with God,” he said, “better than we are, and your words offend against one of God’s commandments.”
“Silence!” the Abbot exclaimed. “You say you have renounced the world, and you are full of worldly pride. If you really wished to renounce the world, you should have tried to become a novice! Why did you not attempt this? You wished to come here in villeggiatura, for an outing, that is the truth of the matter. Or perhaps you were under certain obligations at home, there were certain troublesome matters—you know what I mean! Nec nominentur in nobis. And you wished to rid yourself of these troubles, only to get yourself into fresh ones. You tell stories to that simple-minded Don Clemente; you usurp the place of a poor pilgrim; and perhaps—eh?—you hoped with prayers and sacraments to throw dust in the eyes of the monks, which is an easy matter enough, and even in the eyes of the Almighty Himself, which is a far more difficult matter. You do not deny this!”
The slight flush had vanished from the ivory face; the lips, which at one moment had parted, ready to utter, words of calm severity, were now motionless; the penetrating eyes were fixed upon the Abbot with the same sweaty grave look as before. And this calm silence seemed to exasperate the Abbot.
“Speak then!” said he. “Confess! Have you not also boasted of special gifts, of visions, of miracles even, for all I know? You have been a great sinner? Prove that you are one no longer! Exonerate yourself if you can. Say how you have lived; explain this pretension of yours that God has called you; justify yourself for coming here to eat the monk’s bread for nothing; for you did not wish to become a monk, and as to work, you have done little enough of that.”