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. This last act of faith being ended, the Abbot made a sign, and two of the brethren approached him with a litter. The old man's miraculous tide of vitality was ebbing as fast as it had flowed, and the captain knew that, in the circumstances, the Minister in Lisbon would not approve of this indecent haste. But he had involved himself too deeply with the Viscount to draw back, and it was essential to his plans that the whole monastic garrison should vacate their barracks without delay. Therefore he contented himself with uttering a string of regrets which nobody heeded. It was a quarter-past twelve when the procession started. The monks went forth two and two, like the Seventy in the gospel. At their head walked the Prior and the Cellarer, who had much to discuss concerning ways and means. The Abbot's litter was borne at first by Father Isidore and Father Antonio. Brother Cypriano and the other lay-monks brought up the rear. They led five pack-mules, whose burdens contained little more than the monks' winter shoes and habits, and a blanket for each one. The Prior had not asked leave to take either the mules or their loads, but the captain had not raised any objection. As for their personal belongings, the fathers and brethren seemed to be almost literally fulfilling the Holy Rule, and to be carrying away almost nothing of their own. Each monk held a small bundle, in which the four volumes of his breviary were the principal item. They wound down the paved way without looking back. The Viscount grinned and rubbed his hands. Soon the black files were lost to sight in the avenue of camellias, and a few minutes afterwards the strident grinding of iron on iron proclaimed their arrival at the rusty gate. The captain gave a signal to Carvalho, whose men had been busy saddling their horses, and immediately a detachment twenty strong cantered after the exiles.