cold Bethel and that starry sky? Sleep weighed so heavy on our eyelids. Could we not keep watch for a little time? Surely, St. Francis must be present too. Might not his meditations 700 years ago have prepared this holy place?

"Cold, so sleepy, tired. About midnight, we made a cup of tea on the metal stove and put it beside the entrance. Colder; and then light filtered through the trees. At 9 A.M. we were relieved by the others and walked home to sleep.

"At 4:30 P.M. we returned, carrying food (vegetarian) with us. Baba came out, as his work was accomplished sooner than he expected. At 5:30 P.M. we had a very happy meal, seated around a wooden plank on the ground like children at a picnic. Baba called us into the cave and explained some things to us; we still felt rather awed. We carefully selected some mementos, cleared up all traces of our occupation, burned paper and rubbish, returned the blanket and some bottles for water to the monk who had been kind to us. (Baba had kept the rosary of St. Francis with him during the fast.)

"It is very painful for one who has attained the highest state of super consciousness to return quickly to ordinary consciousness. Baba, though content with his work accomplished, was in great pain. We had to support him during our descent from the mountain; one on either side of Baba, we would run together down the steep path. It seemed as if the jolting and physical exercise helped to bring him down to earth. He looked like someone dazed, suffering from a severe headache.

"It is difficult for us to understand these things, but we could feel his suf­fering and longed to share it. (Easy to say, yet at a later time when some little suffering came to the writer, how he flinched at the slight burden and merely added to, instead of lightening, his Master's burden!)

"Climbing up through the dark ilex trees, we came on to the road. We stood on a quarry mound and looked across the valley, purple shadows and distant lights twinkling above the line of hills in the afterglow of a golden sunset. Once we had to lay him down on the roadside. Despite his pain, Baba was entranced by the beauty of the Umbrian landscape. St. Francis must have often walked this road and enjoyed the scene. The feeling that we had assisted at a great spiritual work (though we did not understand it), Baba's presence and suffering, and the setting made our descent from the mountain memorable.

"Leaving the bare hillside, we walked down. The stars came out. Baba had often to stop and rest. Passing though olive groves and cornfields, a sudden turn in the road brought a view of the city which cannot have changed much. Fireflies hovered among the trees. The battlemented walls, the ruined castle, the dusty road to the city gate with its high archway lit by an oil lamp, seemed legendary.

"Sunday night, about 7:30 P.M.. the narrow streets and the old stone buildings were dimly lit. We passed the main places associated with St. Francis. Past the former home of Bernard of Quintavalle, Baba pointed to a stone where, he said, St. Francis had sat and wept the whole night through for love of Christ.

"At 10:30 P.M. we all squeezed into a small car and started for Florence. Tired, yet happy, we travelled through the Italian night with Baba — not in the world, but sailing through the stars — and passersby knew not. The driver was rash, and we nearly collided with a fast touring car on the top of a steep rise. At 5 A.M. we were descending a hill into Florence. To a hotel to wash and eat and stretch our cramped limbs. We saw the Duomo and had coffee in a square.

"Baba suddenly became impatient. He said that we must find a hill outside Florence where St. Francis, unknown to legend and history, had a vision of Jesus beside a spring. We had two hours in which to find it. Florence has changed much, and we could not locate the hill. Quentin, who knew Florence well, showed a photograph to Baba who pointed to a hill near Fiesole. The car could not go all the way. We got down