With undiminished enthusiasm the whole performance was repeated.
When Vinzi saw that the singers went on smoothly without him, he signalled to Jos and Vereli. Lightly as lizards the three slipped quickly away.
This had been planned beforehand, for Vinzi was eager to do what the grandfather had bidden him do; but as he was convinced that so much noise would be unseemly for the hospice, he had decided not to let the others know where he was going. If they had known, he probably could not have prevented the boys from running after them.
As soon as they had reached the road, the three boys were able to wander along a little more slowly, and they soon saw the large building of stone which Vinzi remembered so clearly. What a terrible impression it had made on him! How silently it lay there, and how frightened he had been when he had thought it might be his uncle’s home! How different it looked now as it lay peacefully in the sunshine, and seemed even to beckon to the boys! Vinzi knew now that here lived the good monks who helped half-frozen travellers in winter as they struggled up the mountain in bad weather. When they stood before the door, Vereli pulled the bell-rope so mightily that they could hear it re-echo inside. Soon after a very small old man opened the heavy door a trifle.
“That’s the porter,” said Vereli.
“What do you want?” asked the old man.
“We want to see Pater Silvanus,” quickly replied Vereli.
The old man, after examining the three suspiciously, said finally in a measured tone: “Well, boys, Pater Silvanus can’t be brought out for a joke. He has usually very different customers from you. What do you want from him?”
“We had better go if Pater Silvanus has no time for us,” said Vinzi timidly.
But Vereli could not be disposed of so easily. “We have a message for him from grandfather,” he said unruffled. “Grandfather told us to give it to Pater Silvanus himself.”