He was interrupted by Brother Cypriano, who demanded in a peremptory tone:
"How much longer are we to wait for your Excellencies?"
They did not return through the kitchen and cloister, but followed Brother Cypriano out of the chapel directly into the paved space. The captain looked haggard, but the Viscount was radiant.
"The keys are here?" he asked. "Good. Then give me a pen."
Forgetting himself in his elation, he began to sign the name of his humble days: but he quickly scratched out the half-written word and substituted his grandiose signature as Visconde de Ponte Quebrada. Then he handed the quill to the morose captain, who slowly subscribed his name.
"There!" cried the Viscount, picking up the great iron keys of the abbey and the small steel keys of the sacristy cupboard. "Now I hope everybody is satisfied. I wish your Reverences a pleasant journey."
VI
The big bell banged noon. In front of the chapel Saint Benedict's heavy-hearted sons were ready to depart. Only Brother Cypriano was absent.
No one stirred. The captain glanced round with new anxiety. But his suspense did not last long. A lighter bell smote through the dull resoundings of the great gong. It was Brother Cypriano ringing the Angelus. With bowed heads the monks repeated the Angelic Salutation. The soldiers and the captain uncovered: and, with an awkward grab at the brim of his sombrero, even the Viscount made a show of following their example.