our Community." The little priest paused for breath, then hastened on.
"Rome knows that our Father Ramoni has come back," he cried, "and Rome
has not forgotten ten years ago."

"Was it ten years that Father Ramoni passed in South America?" a tall
novice asked Father Tomasso.

"Ten years," said Father Tomasso. "He was the great preacher of Rome
when the old General"--he nodded toward the cloister corner where
Father Denfili prayed--"sent him away from Rome. No one knew why. His
fame was at its height. Men and women of all the city crowded the
church to listen to him, and he was but thirty-four years old. But
Father Denfili sent him away to Marqua, commanding the Superior of our
Order out there to send him to those far-off mountain people of whom
the papers were telling at that time. I did not know Father Romani
well. I was a novice at the time. But I knew that he did not want to
go from Rome; though, being a good religious, he obeyed. Now, see what
has happened. He has converted over one-third of that people, and the
rest are only waiting for missionaries."

"And the work is all Father Ramoni's?" the novice asked.

"All." Father Tomasso drew him a little farther from the group that
still listened to the little priest who had come from the Vatican.
"Father Ramoni found that the people had many Christian traditions and
were almost white; but it was he who instilled the Faith in their
hearts. There must be thirty of our Fathers in Marqua now," he
continued proudly, "and sooner or later, all novices will have to go
out there. Father Ramoni has made a splendid Prefect-Apostolic. No
wonder they have summoned him to Rome for consultation. I have