74. We went. We returned about midnight, for at that hour it was announced that _the light shineth in darkness_.[898] The house filled, the whole community was present, many abbots also who had assembled. _With psalms and hymns and spiritual songs_[899] we followed our friend as he returned to his own country.[900] In the fifty-fourth year of his age,[901] at the place and time which he had chosen beforehand and predicted, Malachy, the bishop and legate of the holy Apostolic See, taken up _by the angels_,[902] as it were from our hands, happily _fell asleep in the Lord_.[903] And indeed he slept. His placid face was the sign of a placid departure. And verily _the eyes of all were_ fixed _upon him_;[904] but none could perceive when he departed. When dead he was thought to be alive, when alive, dead; so true was it that there was no difference which might distinguish death from life. The same vivacity of face, the same serenity, as commonly appears in one who sleeps. You might say that death robbed him of none of these things, but rather very greatly increased them. He was not changed; but he changed us all. In wondrous fashion the sorrow and groaning of all suddenly sank to rest, _sadness_ was changed _into joy_,[905] singing banished lamentation.[906] He is borne forth, voices are borne to heaven, he is borne into the oratory on the shoulders of the abbots. _Faith has conquered_,[907] affection triumphs, things assume their normal course. All things are carried out in order, all proceed in the way of reason.