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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Master-Christian, by Marie Corelli
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Master-Christian
+
+Author: Marie Corelli
+
+Posting Date: June 11, 2013 [EBook #4285]
+Release Date: July, 2003
+First Posted: December 30, 2001
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASTER-CHRISTIAN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Karol Pietrzak, Charles Franks and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MASTER-CHRISTIAN
+
+By MARIE CORELLI
+
+AUTHOR OF
+
+"Thelma," "Ardath," "Innocent," "The Treasure of Heaven," etc.
+
+
+
+
+TO ALL THOSE CHURCHES WHO QUARREL IN THE NAME OF CHRIST
+
+The Master-Christian.
+
+I.
+
+All the bells were ringing the Angelus. The sun was sinking;--and from
+the many quaint and beautiful grey towers which crown the ancient city
+of Rouen, the sacred chime pealed forth melodiously, floating with
+sweet and variable tone far up into the warm autumnal air. Market women
+returning to their cottage homes after a long day's chaffering disposal
+of their fruit, vegetable, and flower-wares in the town, paused in
+their slow trudge along the dusty road and crossed themselves
+devoutly,--a bargeman, lazily gliding down the river on his flat
+unwieldly craft, took his pipe from his mouth, lifted his cap
+mechanically, and muttered more from habit than reflection--"Sainte
+Marie, Mere de Dieu, priez pour nous!"--and some children running out
+of school, came to a sudden standstill, listening and glancing at each
+other, as though silently questioning whether they should say the old
+church-formula among themselves or no? Whether, for example, it might
+not be more foolish than wise to repeat it? Yes;--even though there was
+a rumour that the Cardinal-Archbishop of a certain small,
+half-forgotten, but once historically-famed Cathedral town of France
+had come to visit Rouen that day,--a Cardinal-Archbishop reputed to be
+so pure of heart and simple in nature, that the people of his far-off
+and limited diocese regarded him almost as a saint,--would it be right
+or reasonable for them, as the secularly educated children of modern
+Progress, to murmur an "Angelus Domini," while the bells rang? It was a
+doubtful point;--for the school they attended was a Government one, and
+prayers were neither taught nor encouraged there, France having for a
+time put God out of her national institutions. Nevertheless, the glory
+of that banished Creator shone in the deepening glow of the splendid
+heavens,--and--from the silver windings of the Seine which, turning
+crimson in the light, looped and garlanded the time-honoured old city
+as with festal knots of rosy ribbon, up to the trembling tops of the
+tall poplar trees fringing the river banks,--the warm radiance
+palpitated with a thousand ethereal hues of soft and changeful colour,
+transfusing all visible things into the misty semblance of some divine
+dwelling of dreams. Ding-dong--ding dong! The last echo of the last
+bell died away upon the air--the last words enunciated by devout
+priests in their cloistered seclusion were said--"In hora mortis
+nostrae! Amen!"--the market women went on their slow way homeward,--the
+children scampered off in different directions, easily forgetful of the
+Old-World petition they had thought of, yet left unuttered,--the
+bargeman and his barge slipped quietly away together down the windings
+of the river out of sight;--the silence following the clangour of the
+chimes was deep and impressive--and the great Sun had all the heaven to
+himself as he went down. Through the beautiful rose-window of the
+Cathedral of Notre Dame, he flashed his parting rays, weaving bright
+patterns of ruby, gold and amethyst on the worn pavement of the ancient
+pile which enshrines the tomb of Richard the Lion-Hearted, as also that
+of Henry the Second, husband to Catherine de Medicis and lover of the
+brilliant Diane de Poitiers,--and one broad beam fell purpling aslant
+into the curved and fretted choir-chapel especially dedicated to the
+Virgin, there lighting up with a warm glow the famous alabaster tomb
+known as "Le Mourant" or "The Dying One." A strange and awesome piece
+of sculpture truly, is this same "Mourant"!--showing, as it does with
+deft and almost appalling exactitude, the last convulsion of a strong
+man's body gripped in the death-agony. No delicate delineator of shams
+and conventions was the artist of olden days whose ruthless chisel
+shaped these stretched sinews, starting veins, and swollen eyelids
+half-closed over the tired eyes!--he must have been a sculptor of
+truth,--truth downright and relentless,--truth divested of all graceful
+coverings, and nude as the "Dying One" thus realistically portrayed.
+Ugly truth too,--unpleasant to the sight of the worldly and
+pleasure-loving tribe who do not care to be reminded of the common fact
+that they all, and we all, must die. Yet the late sunshine flowed very
+softly on and over the ghastly white, semi-transparent form, outlining
+it with as much tender glory as the gracious figure of Mary Virgin
+herself, bending with outstretched hands from a grey niche, fine as a
+cobweb of old lace on which a few dim jewels are sewn. Very beautiful,
+calm and restful at this hour was "Our Lady's Chapel," with its high,
+dark intertwisting arches, mutilated statues, and ancient tattered
+battle-banners hanging from the black roof and swaying gently with
+every little breath of wind. The air, perfumed with incense-odours,
+seemed weighted with the memory of prayers and devotional
+silences,--and in the midst of it all, surrounded by the defaced and
+crumbling emblems of life and death, and the equally decaying symbols
+of immortality, with the splendours of the sinking sun shedding roseate
+haloes about him, walked one for whom eternal truths outweighed all
+temporal seemings,--Cardinal Felix Bonpre, known favourably, and
+sometimes alluded to jestingly at the Vatican, as "Our good Saint
+Felix." Tall and severely thin, with fine worn features of ascetic and
+spiritual delicacy, he had the indefinably removed air of a scholar and
+thinker, whose life was not, and never could be in accordance with the
+latter-day customs of the world; the mild blue eyes, clear and
+steadfast, most eloquently suggested "the peace of God that passeth all
+understanding";--and the sensitive intellectual lines of the mouth and
+chin, which indicated strength and determined will, at the same time
+declared that both strength and will were constantly employed in the
+doing of good and the avoidance of evil. No dark furrows of hesitation,
+cowardice, cunning, meanness or weakness marred the expressive dignity
+and openness of the Cardinal's countenance,--the very poise of his
+straight spare figure and the manner in which he moved, silently
+asserted that inward grace of spirit without which there is no true
+grace of body,--and as he paused in his slow pacing to and fro to gaze
+half-wistfully, half-mournfully upon the almost ghastly artistic
+achievement of "Le Mourant" he sighed, and his lips moved as if in
+prayer. For the brief, pitiful history of human life is told in that
+antique and richly-wrought alabaster,--its beginning, its ambition, and
+its end. At the summit of the shrine, an exquisite bas-relief shows
+first of all the infant clinging to its mother's breast,--a stage lower
+down is seen the boy in the eager flush of youth, speeding an arrow to
+its mark from the bent bow,--then, on a still larger, bolder scale of
+design is depicted the proud man in the zenith of his career, a noble
+knight riding forth to battle and to victory, armed cap-a-pie, his
+war-steed richly caparisoned, his lance in rest,--and finally, on the
+sarcophagus itself is stretched his nude and helpless form, with hands
+clenched in the last gasping struggle for breath, and every muscle
+strained and fighting against the pangs of dissolution.
+
+"But," said the Cardinal half aloud, with the gentle dawning of a
+tender smile brightening the fine firm curve of his lips,--"it is not
+the end! The end here, no doubt;--but the beginning--THERE!"
+
+He raised his eyes devoutly, and instinctively touched the silver
+crucifix hanging by its purple ribbon at his breast. The orange-red
+glow of the sun encompassed him with fiery rings, as though it would
+fain consume his thin, black-garmented form after the fashion in which
+flames consumed the martyrs of old,--the worn figures of mediaeval
+saints in their half-broken niches stared down upon him stonily, as
+though they would have said,--"So we thought,--even we!--and for our
+thoughts and for our creed we suffered willingly,--yet lo, we have come
+upon an age of the world in which the people know us not,--or knowing,
+laugh us all to scorn."
+
+But Cardinal Bonpre being only conscious of a perfect faith, discovered
+no hints of injustice or despair in the mutilated shapes of the
+Evangelists surrounding him,--they were the followers of Christ,--and
+being such, they were bound to rejoice in the tortures which made their
+glory. It was only the unhappy souls who suffered not for Christ at
+all, whom he considered were truly to be compassionated.
+
+"And if," he murmured as he moved on--"this knight of former days, who
+is now known to us chiefly, alas! as 'Le Mourant', was a faithful
+servant of our Blessed Lord, why then it is as well with him as with
+any of the holy martyrs. May his soul rest in peace!"
+
+Stopping an instant at the next sculptural wonder in his way--the
+elaborately designed tomb of Cardinal Amboise, concerning the eternal
+fate of which "brother in Christ" the good Felix had no scruples or
+fears whatever, he stepped softly down from the choir-chapel where he
+had been wandering to and fro for some time in solitary musings, and
+went towards the great central nave. It was quite empty,--not even a
+weary silk-weaver, escaped from one of the ever-working looms of the
+city, had crept in to tell her beads. Broad, vacant, vast, and
+suggestive of a sublime desolation, the grand length and width of the
+Latin Cross which shapes the holy precincts, stretched into vague
+distance, one or two lamps were burning dimly at little shrines set in
+misty dark recesses,--a few votive candles, some lit, some smouldered
+out, leaned against each other crookedly in their ricketty brass stand,
+fronting a battered statue of the Virgin. The Angelus had ceased
+ringing some ten minutes since,--and now one solemn bell, swinging high
+up in the Cathedral towers, tolled forth the hour of six, slowly and
+with a strong pulsating sound which seemed to shake the building down
+to its very vaults and deep foundations. As the last stroke shivered
+and thundered through the air, a strain of music, commencing softly,
+then swelling into fuller melody, came floating from aloft, following
+the great bell's vibration. Half way down the nave, just as he was
+advancing slowly towards the door of egress, this music overtook the
+Cardinal like an arresting angel, bringing him to a sudden pause.
+
+"The organist practises late," he said aloud, as though speaking to
+some invisible companion, and then was silent, listening. Round him and
+above him surged the flood of rich and dulcet harmony,--the sunset
+light through the blue and red stained-glass windows grew paler and
+paler--the towering arches which sprang, as it were, from slender
+stem-like side-columns up to full-flowering boughs of Gothic
+ornamentation, crossing and re-crossing above the great High Altar,
+melted into a black dimness,--and then--all at once, without any
+apparent cause, a strange, vague suggestion of something supernatural
+and unseen began suddenly to oppress the mind of the venerable prelate
+with a curious sense of mingled awe and fear. Trembling a little, he
+knew not why, he softly drew a chair from one of the shadowy corners,
+where all such seats were piled away out of sight so that they might
+not disfigure the broad and open beauty of the nave, and, sitting down,
+he covered his eyes with one hand and strove to rouse himself from the
+odd, half-fainting sensation which possessed him. How glorious now was
+the music that poured like a torrent from the hidden organ-loft! How
+full of searching and potential proclamation!--the proclamation of an
+eternal, unguessed mystery, for which no merely human speech might ever
+find fit utterance! Some divine declaration of God's absolute
+omnipresence,--or of Heaven's sure nearness,--touched the heart of
+Felix Bonpre, as he sat like an enchanted dreamer among the tender
+interweavings of solemn and soothing sound;--carried out of himself and
+beyond his own existence, he could neither pray nor think, till, all at
+once, upon the peaceful and devout silence of his soul, some very old,
+very familiar words struck sharply as though they were quite new,--as
+though they were invested suddenly with strange and startling
+significance--
+
+"When the son of Man cometh, think ye He shall find faith on earth?"
+
+Slowly he withdrew his hand from his eyes and gazed about him,
+half-startled, half-appalled. Had anyone spoken these words?--or had
+they risen of themselves as it were in letters of fire out of the sea
+of music that was heaving and breaking tumultuously about him?
+
+"WHEN THE SON OF MAN COMETH, THINK YE HE SHALL FIND FAITH ON EARTH?"
+
+The question seemed to be whispered in his ears with a thrilling
+intensity of meaning; and moved by a sudden introspective and
+retrospective repentance, the gentle old man began mentally to grope
+his way back over the past years of his life, and to ask himself
+whether in very truth that life had been well or ill spent? Viewed by
+his own inner contemplative vision, Cardinal Felix Bonpre saw in
+himself nothing but wilful sin and total unworthiness;--but in the eyes
+of those he had served and assisted, he was a blameless priest,--a man
+beloved of God, and almost visibly encompassed by the guardianship of
+angels. He had been singularly happy in his election to a diocese
+which, though it had always had an Archbishop for its spiritual head,
+boasted scarce as many inhabitants as a prosperous English
+village,--and the result of this was that he had lived altogether away
+from the modern world, passing most of his time in reading and
+study,--while for relaxation, he permitted himself only the innocent
+delight of growing the finest roses in his neighbourhood. But he had
+pious scruples even about this rose-growing fancy of his,--he had a
+lurking distrust of himself in it, as to whether it was not a purely
+selfish pleasure,--and therefore, to somewhat smooth the circumstance,
+he never kept any of the choice blooms for his own gratification, but
+gave the best of them with a trust, as simple as it was beautiful, to
+the altar of the Virgin, sending all the rest to the bedsides of the
+sick and sorrowful, or to the coffins of the dead. It never once
+occurred to him that the "Cardinal's roses," as they were called, were
+looked upon by the poor people who received them as miraculous flowers
+long after they had withered,--that special virtues were assigned to
+them--and that dying lips kissed their fragrant petals with almost as
+much devotion as the holy crucifix, because it was instinctively
+believed that they contained a mystic blessing. He knew nothing of all
+this;--he was too painfully conscious of his own shortcomings,--and of
+late years, feeling himself growing old, and realising that every day
+brought him nearer to that verge which all must cross in passing from
+Time into Eternity, he had been sorely troubled in mind. He was wise
+with the wisdom which comes of deep reading, lonely meditation, and
+fervent study,--he had instructed himself in the modern schools of
+thought as well as the ancient,--and though his own soul was
+steadfastly set upon the faith he followed, he was compassionately
+aware of a strange and growing confusion in the world,--a combination
+of the elements of evil, which threatened, or seemed to threaten, some
+terrible and imminent disaster. This sorrowful foreboding had for a
+long time preyed upon him, physically as well as mentally; always thin,
+he had grown thinner and more careworn, till at the beginning of the
+year his health had threatened to break down altogether. Whereupon
+those who loved him, growing alarmed, summoned a physician, who, (with
+that sage experience of doctors to whom thought-trouble is an
+inexplicable and incurable complication) at once pronounced change of
+air to be absolutely necessary. Cardinal Bonpre must travel, he said,
+and seek rest and minddistraction in the contemplation of new and
+varying scenes. With smiling and resigned patience the Cardinal obeyed
+not so much the command of his medical attendant, as the anxious desire
+of his people,--and thereupon departed from his own Cathedral-town on a
+tour of several months, during which time he inwardly resolved to try
+and probe for himself the truth of how the world was going,--whether on
+the downward road to destruction and death, or up the high ascents of
+progress and life. He went alone and unattended,--he had arranged to
+meet his niece in Paris and accompany her to her father's house in
+Rome,--and he was on his way to Paris now. But he had purposely made a
+long and round-about journey through France with the intention of
+studying the religious condition of the people; and by the time he
+reached Rouen, the old sickness at his heart had rather increased than
+diminished. The confusion and the trouble of the world were not mere
+hearsay,--they in very truth existed. And what seemed to the Cardinal
+to be the chief cause of the general bewilderment of things, was the
+growing lack of faith in God and a Hereafter. How came this lack of
+faith into the Christian world? Sorrowfully he considered the
+question,--and persistently the same answer always asserted
+itself--that the blame rested principally with the Church itself, and
+its teachers and preachers, and not only in one, but in all forms of
+Creed.
+
+"We have erred in some vital manner," mused the Cardinal, with a
+feeling of strange personal contrition, as though he were more to blame
+than any of his compeers--"We have failed to follow the Master's
+teaching in its true perfection. We have planted in ourselves a seed of
+corruption, and we have permitted--nay, some of us have encouraged--its
+poisonous growth, till it now threatens to contaminate the whole field
+of labour."
+
+And he thought of the words of St. John the Divine to the Church of
+Sardis--
+
+"_I_ KNOW THY WORKS,--THAT THOU HAST A NAME THAT THOU LIVEST AND ART
+DEAD.
+
+"BE WATCHFUL, AND STRENGTHEN THE THINGS THAT REMAIN, THAT ARE READY TO
+DIE,--FOR _I_ HAVE NOT FOUND THY WORKS PERFECT BEFORE GOD. REMEMBER
+THEREFORE HOW THOU HAST RECEIVED AND HEARD, AND HOLD FAST AND REPENT.
+
+"IF, THEREFORE, THOU SHALT NOT WATCH, _I_ WILL COME ON THEE AS A THIEF,
+AND THOU SHALL NOT KNOW WHAT HOUR I WILL COME UPON THEE.
+
+"THOU HAST A FEW NAMES EVEN IN SARDIS, WHICH HAVE NOT DEFILED THEIR
+GARMENTS, AND THEY SHALL WALK WITH ME IN WHITE, FOR THEY ARE WORTHY.
+
+"HE THAT OVERCOMETH, THE SAME SHALL BE CLOTHED IN WHITE RAIMENT; AND I
+WILL NOT BLOT HIS NAME OUT OF THE BOOK OF LIFE, BUT I WILL CONFESS HIS
+NAME BEFORE MY FATHER AND BEFORE HIS ANGELS."
+
+Dimmer and duskier grew the long shadows now gathering in the
+Cathedral,--two of the twinkling candles near the Virgin's statue
+suddenly sank in their sockets with a spluttering noise and guttered
+out,--the solemn music of the organ continued, growing softer and
+softer as it sounded, till it crept through the vastness of the
+building like a light breeze wafted from the sea, bringing with it
+suggestions of far flower-islands in the tropics, golden shores kissed
+by languid foam, and sweet-throated birds singing, and still the
+Cardinal sat thinking of griefs and cares and inexplicable human
+perplexities, which were not his own, but which seemed to burden the
+greater portion of the world. He drew no comparisons,--he never
+considered that, as absolutely as day is day and night is night, his
+own beautiful and placid life, lived in the faith of God and Christ,
+was tortured by no such storm-tossed tribulation as that which affected
+the lives of many others,--and that the old trite saying, almost
+despised because so commonplace, namely that "goodness makes
+happiness," is as eternally true as that the sun shines in heaven, and
+that it is only evil which creates misery. To think of himself in the
+matter never occurred to him; had he for a moment entertained the
+merest glimmering of an idea that he was better, and therefore happier
+than most men, he would, in his own opinion, have been guilty of
+unpardonable arrogance and presumption. What he saw, and what sincerely
+and unselfishly grieved him, was that the people of this present age
+were unhappy--discontented--restless,--that something of the simple joy
+of existence had gone out of the world,--that even the brilliant
+discoveries of science and the so-called "progress" of men only served
+apparently to increase their discontent,--that when they were overcome
+by sorrow, sickness, or death, they had little philosophy and less
+faith to support them,--and that except in the few cases where Christ
+was still believed in, they gave way altogether and broke down like
+frightened children in a storm.
+
+"Thou hast a few names, even in Sardis!" A few names! But how few!
+Universal weariness of life seemed a disease of the time,--there was
+nothing that seemed to satisfy--even the newest and most miraculous
+results of scientific research and knowledge ceased to be interesting
+after the first week of their triumphant public demonstration and
+acceptance.
+
+"The world must be growing old," said the Cardinal sadly,--"It must be
+losing its vigour,--it is too tired to lift itself to the light; too
+weary and worn out to pray. Perhaps the end of all present things is at
+hand,--perhaps it is the beginning of the promised 'new heavens and new
+earth.'"
+
+Just then the organ-music ceased abruptly, and the Cardinal, waking
+from his thoughts as from a trance, rose up slowly and stood for a
+moment facing the great High Altar, which at that distance could only
+just be discerned among its darkening surroundings by the little
+flickering flame of the suspended lamp burning dimly before the holy
+Tabernacle, wherein was locked with golden key behind snowy doors of
+spotless marble, the sacred and mysterious Host.
+
+"WHEN THE SON OF MAN COMETH, THINK YE HE SHALL FIND FAITH ON EARTH?"
+
+Again that searching question repeated itself in his mind so distinctly
+as to be echoed in his ears,--the deep silence around him seemed
+waiting expectantly for some reply, and moved by a strange spirit of
+exaltation within him, he answered half aloud--
+
+"Yes! Surely He will find faith,--if only in the few! There are 'a few
+names, even in Sardis!' In the sorrowful and meek,--in the poor and
+patient and downtrodden martyrs of humanity, He will find faith;--in
+the very people He died to save He will discover that most precious and
+inspiring of all virtues! But in the so-called wise and brilliant
+favourites of the world He will not find it,--in the teachers of the
+people He will search for it in vain. By the writers of many books He
+shall find Himself scorned and rejected,--in the cheap and spurious
+philosophy of modern egotists He will see His doctrines mocked at and
+denounced as futile. Few men there are in these days who would deny
+themselves for His sake, or sacrifice a personal passion for the purer
+honouring of His name. Inasmuch as the pride of great learning breeds
+arrogance, so the more the wonder of God's work is displayed to us, the
+more are we dazzled and confounded; and so in our blindness we turn
+from the worship of the Creator to that of His creation, forgetting
+that all the visible universe is but the outcome or expression of the
+hidden Divine Intelligence behind it. What of the marvels of the
+age!--the results of science!--the strange psychic prescience and
+knowledge of things more miraculous yet to be!--these are but hints and
+warnings of the approach of God himself--'coming in a cloud with power
+and great glory'!"
+
+As he thus spoke, he raised his hand out of old habit acquired in
+preaching, and a ray from the after-glow of the sunken sun lit up the
+jewel in the apostolic ring he wore, warming its pale green lustre to a
+dim violet spark as of living fire. His fine features were for a moment
+warm with fervour and feeling,--then,--suddenly, he thought of the
+great world outside all creeds,--of the millions and millions of human
+beings who neither know nor accept Christ,--of the Oriental races with
+their intricate and beautiful systems of philosophy,--of savage tribes,
+conquered and unconquered,--of fierce yet brave Turkish warriors who
+are, with all their faults, at any rate true to the faith they
+profess--and lastly--more than all--of the thousands upon thousands of
+Christians in Christian lands, who no more believe in Him whose holy
+name they take in vain, than in any Mumbo-Jumbo fetish of untaught
+barbarians. Were these to perish utterly? Had THEY no immortal souls to
+save? Had the churches been at work for eighteen hundred years and
+more, to bring about no better results than this,--namely that there
+were only "A FEW NAMES IN SARDIS"? If so, were not the churches
+criminally to blame? Yea, even holy Mother-Church, whose foundation
+rested on the memory of the Lying Apostle? Rapidly, and as if suggested
+by some tormenting devil, these thoughts possessed the Cardinal's
+brain, burning into it and teasing and agonising the tender fibres of
+his conscience and his soul. Could God, the great loving Creator of
+countless universes, be so cruel as to wantonly destroy millions of
+helpless creatures in one small planet, because through ignorance or
+want of proper teaching they had failed to find Christ?--was it
+possible that he could only extend his mercy and forgiveness to the
+"few names in Sardis"?
+
+"Yet our world is but a pin's point in the eternal immensities," argued
+the Cardinal almost wistfully--"Only a few can expect to be saved."
+
+Nevertheless, this reasoning did not satisfy him. Again, what of these
+millions? Were they to be forever lost? Then why so much waste of life?
+Waste of life! There is no such thing as waste of life--this much
+modern science the venerable Felix knew. Nothing can be wasted,--not a
+breath, not a scene, not a sound. All is treasured up in Nature's
+store-house and can be eternally reproduced at Nature's will. Then what
+was to become of the myriads of human beings and immortal souls whom
+the Church had failed to rescue? THE CHURCH HAD FAILED! Why had it
+failed? Whose the fault?--whose the weakness?--for fault and weakness
+were existent somewhere.
+
+"WHEN THE SON OF MAN COMETH, THINK YE HE SHALL FIND FAITH ON EARTH?"
+
+"No!" whispered the Cardinal, suddenly forced, as it were in his own
+despite, to contradict his former assertion--"No!" He paused, and
+mechanically making his way towards the door of the Cathedral, he
+dipped his fingers into the holy water that glistened dimly in its
+marble basin near the black oak portal, and made the sign of the cross
+on brow and breast;--"He will not find faith where faith should be
+pre-eminent. It must be openly confessed--repentingly admitted,--He
+will NOT find faith even in the Church He founded,--I say it to our
+shame!"
+
+His head drooped, as though his own words had wounded him, and with an
+air of deep dejection he slowly passed out. The huge iron-bound door
+swung noiselessly to and fro behind him,--the grave-toned bell in the
+tower struck seven. Outside, a tender twilight mellowed the atmosphere
+and gave brightness to approaching evening; inside, the long shadows,
+gathering heavily in the aisles and richly sculptured hollows of the
+side-chapels, brought night before its time. The last votive candle at
+the Virgin's shrine flickered down and disappeared like a firefly in
+dense blackness,--the last echo of the bell died in a tremulous
+vibration up among the high-springing roof-arches, and away into the
+solemn corners where the nameless dead reposed,--the last impression of
+life and feeling vanished with the retreating figure of the
+Cardinal--and the great Cathedral, the Sanctuary and House of God, took
+upon itself the semblance of a funeral vault,--a dark, Void, wherein
+but one red star, the lamp before the Altar, burned.
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+Lovely to a poet or an artist's eye is the unevenly-built and
+picturesque square of Rouen in which the Cathedral stands,--lovely, and
+suggestive of historical romance in all its remote corners, its
+oddly-shaped houses, its by-ways and crooked little flights of steps
+leading to nowhere, its gables and slanting roofs, and its utter
+absence of all structural proportion. A shrine here, a broken statue
+there,--a half-obliterated coat-of-arms over an old gateway,--a rusty
+sconce fitted fast into the wall to support a lantern no longer needed
+in these days of gas and electricity,--an ancient fountain overgrown
+with weed, or a projecting vessel of stone for holy water, in which
+small birds bathe and disport themselves after a shower of rain,--those
+are but a few of the curious fragments of a past time which make the
+old place interesting to the student, and more than fascinating to the
+thinker and dreamer. The wonderful "Hotel Bourgtheroulde," dating from
+the time of Francis the First, and bearing on its sculptured walls the
+story of the Field of the Cloth of Gold, in company with the
+strangely-contrasting "Allegories", from Petrarch's "Triumphs", is
+enough in itself to keep the mind engrossed with fanciful musings for
+an hour. How did Petrarch and the Field of the Cloth of Gold come
+together in the brain of the sculptor who long ago worked at these
+ancient bas-reliefs? One wonders, but the wonder is in vain,--there is
+no explanation;--and the "Bourgtheroulde" remains a pleasing and
+fantastic architectural mystery. Close by, through the quaint old
+streets of the Epicerie and "Gross Horloge", walked no doubt in their
+young days the brothers Corneille, before they evolved from their
+meditative souls the sombre and heavy genius of French tragedy,--and
+not very far away, up one of those little shadowy winding streets and
+out at the corner, stands the restored house of Diane de Poitiers, so
+sentient and alive in its very look that one almost expects to see at
+the quaint windows the beautiful wicked face of the woman who swayed
+the humours of a king by her smile or her frown.
+
+Cardinal Bonpre, walking past the stately fourteenth-century Gothic
+pile of the Palais de Justice, thought half-vaguely of some of these
+things,--but they affected him less than they might have done had his
+mind not been full of the grand music he had just heard in the
+Cathedral, and of the darkness that had slowly gathered there, as
+though in solemn commingling with the darkness which had at the same
+time settled over his soul. A great oppression weighed upon
+him;--almost he judged himself guilty of mortal sin, for had he not
+said aloud and boldly, while facing the High Altar of the Lord, that
+even in the Church itself faith was lacking? Yes, he, a
+Cardinal-Archbishop, had said this thing; he had as it were proclaimed
+it on the silence of the sacred precincts,--and had he not in this,
+acted unworthily of his calling? Had he not almost uttered blasphemy?
+Grieved and puzzled, the good Felix went on his way, almost unseeingly,
+towards the humble inn where he had elected to remain for the brief
+period of his visit to Rouen,--an inn where no one stayed save the very
+poorest of travellers, this fact being its chief recommendation in the
+eyes of the Cardinal. For it must be conceded, that viewed by our
+latter-day ideas of personal comfort and convenience, the worthy
+prelate had some very old-world and fantastic notions. One of these
+notions was a devout feeling that he should, so far as it was humanly
+possible, endeavour to obey the Master whose doctrine he professed to
+follow. This, it will be admitted, was a curious idea. Considering the
+bold and blasphemous laxity of modern Christian customs, it was surely
+quite a fanatical idea. Yet he had his own Church-warrant for such a
+rule of conduct; and chief among the Evangelic Counsels writ down for
+his example was Voluntary Poverty. Yes!--Voluntary
+Poverty,--notwithstanding the countless treasures lying idle and wasted
+in the Vatican, and the fat sinecures enjoyed by bishops and
+archbishops; which things exist in direct contradiction and
+disobedience to the command of Christ. Christ Himself lived on the
+earth in poverty,--He visited only the poorest and simplest
+habitations,--and never did He set His sacred foot within a palace,
+save the palace of the High Priest where He was condemned to die. Much
+symbolic meaning did Cardinal Felix discover in this incident,--and
+often would he muse upon it gravely.
+
+"The Divine is condemned to die in all palaces," he would say,--"It is
+only in the glorious world of Nature, under the sunlit or starlit
+expanse of heaven, that the god in us can live; and it was not without
+some subtle cause of intended instruction to mankind that the Saviour
+always taught His followers in the open air."
+
+There was what might be called a palace hard by, to which Bonpre had
+been invited, and where he would have been welcome to stay as long as
+he chose,--the house of the Archbishop of Rouen--a veritable abode of
+luxury as compared with the Hotel Poitiers, which was a dingy little
+tumble-down building, very old, and wearing a conscious air of
+feebleness and decrepitude which was almost apologetic. Its small
+windows, set well back in deeply hollowed carved arches had a
+lack-lustre gleam, as of very aged eyes under shelving brows,--its
+narrow door, without either bolts or bars, hung half-aslant upon
+creaking rusty hinges, and was never quite shut either by day or
+night,--yet from the porch a trailing mass of "creeping jenny" fell in
+a gold-dotted emerald fringe over the head of any way-worn traveller
+passing in,--making a brightness in a darkness, and suggesting
+something not altogether uncheery in the welcome provided. They were
+very humble folk who kept the Hotel Poitiers,--the host, Jean Patoux,
+was a small market-gardener who owned a plot of land outside Rouen,
+which he chiefly devoted to the easy growing of potatoes and
+celery--his wife had her hands full with the domestic business of the
+hotel and the cares of her two children, Henri and Babette, the most
+incorrigible imps of mischief that ever lived in Rouen or out of it.
+Madame Patoux, large of body, unwieldy in movement, but clean as a new
+pin, and with a fat smile of perpetual contentment on her round visage,
+professed to be utterly worn to death by the antics of these children
+of hers,--but nevertheless she managed to grow stouter every day with a
+persistency and fortitude which denoted the reserved forces of her
+nature,--and her cooking, always excellent, never went wrong because
+Babette had managed to put her doll in one of the saucepans, or Henri
+had essayed to swim a paper boat in the soup. Things went on somehow;
+Patoux himself was perfectly satisfied with his small earnings and
+position in life--Madame Patoux felt that "le bon Dieu" was specially
+engaged in looking after her,--and as long as the wicked Babette and
+the wickeder Henri threw themselves wildly into her arms and clung
+round her fat neck imploring pardon after any and every misdeed, and
+sat for a while "en penitence" in separate corners reading the "Hours
+of Mary", they might be as naughty as they chose over and over again so
+far as the good-natured mother was concerned. Just now, however,
+unusual calm appeared to have settled on the Patoux household,--an
+atmosphere of general placidity and peace prevailed, which had the
+effect of imparting almost a stately air to the tumble-down house, and
+a suggestion of luxury to the poorly-furnished rooms Madame Patoux
+herself was conscious of a mysterious dignity in her surroundings, and
+moved about on her various household duties with less bounce and fuss
+than was her ordinary custom,--and Henri and Babette sat quiet without
+being told to do so, moved apparently by a sudden and inexplicable
+desire to study their lessons. All this had been brought about by the
+advent of Cardinal Bonpre, who with his kind face, gentle voice and
+beneficent manner, had sought and found lodging at the Hotel Poitiers,
+notwithstanding Madame Patoux's profuse apologies for the narrowness
+and inconvenience of her best rooms.
+
+"For look you, Monseigneur," she murmured, deferentially, "How should
+we have ever expected such an honour as the visit of a holy
+Cardinal-Archbishop to our poor little place! There are many new houses
+on the Boulevards which could have accommodated Monseigneur with every
+comfort,--and that he should condescend to bestow the blessing of his
+presence upon us,--ah! it was a special dispensation of Our Lady which
+was too amazing and wonderful to be at once comprehended!"
+
+Thus Madame Patoux, with breathless pauses between her sentences, and
+many profound curtseyings; but the good Cardinal waived aside her
+excuses and protestations, and calling her "My daughter", signed the
+cross on her brow with paternal gentleness, assuring her that he would
+give her as little trouble as any other casual visitor.
+
+"Trouble!--Ah, heaven!--could anything be a trouble for Monseigneur!"
+and Madame Patoux, moved to tears by the quiet contentment with which
+the Cardinal took possession of the two bare, common rooms which were
+the best she could place at his disposal, hurried away, and hustling
+Henri and Babette like two little roly-poly balls before her into the
+kitchen, she told them with much emphasis that there was a saint in the
+house,--a saint fit to be the holy companion of any of those who had
+their niches up in the Cathedral near the great rose-window,--and that
+if they were good children they would very likely see an angel coming
+down from heaven to visit him. Babette put her finger in her mouth and
+looked incredulous. She had a vague belief in angels,--but Henri, with
+the cheap cynicism of the modern French lad was anything but sure about
+them.
+
+"Mother," said he, "There's a boy in our school who says there is no
+God at all, and that it's no use having priests or Cardinals or
+Cathedrals,--it's all rubbish and humbug!"
+
+"Poor little miserable monster!" exclaimed Madame Patoux, as she peered
+into the pot where the soup for the Cardinal's supper was
+simmering--"He is arranging himself to become a thief or a murderer, be
+sure of that, Henri!--and thou, who art trained in all thy holy duties
+by the good Pere Laurent, who teaches thee everything which the school
+is not wise enough to teach, ought never to listen to such wickedness.
+If there were no God, we should not be alive at all, thou foolish
+child!--for it is only our blessed Saviour and the saints that keep the
+world going."
+
+Henri was silent,--Babette looked at him and made a little grimace of
+scorn.
+
+"If the Cardinal is a saint," she said--"he should be able to perform a
+miracle. The little Fabien Doucet has been lame for seven years; we
+shall bring him to Monseigneur, and he will mend his leg and make him
+well. Then we shall believe in saints afterwards."
+
+Madame Patoux turned her warm red face round from the fire over which
+she was bending, and stared at her precocious offspring aghast.
+
+"What! You will dare to address yourself to the Cardinal!" she cried
+vociferously--"You will dare to trouble him with such foolishness? Mon
+Dieu!--is it possible to be so wicked! But listen to me well!--If you
+presume to say one saucy word to Monseigneur, you shall be punished!
+What have you to do with the little Fabien Doucet?--the poor child is
+sickly and diseased by the will of God."
+
+"I don't see why it should be God's will to make a boy sickly and
+diseased--" began the irrepressible Henri, when his mother cut him
+short with a stamp of her foot and a cry of--
+
+"Tais-toi! Silence! Wicked boy!--thou wilt kill me with thy naughty
+speeches! All this evil comes of the school,--I would thy father had
+never been compelled to send thee there!"
+
+As she said this with a vast amount of heat and energy, Henri, seized
+by some occult and inexplicable emotion, burst without warning into
+loud and fitful weeping, the sound whereof resembled the yelling of a
+tortured savage,--and Babette, petrified at first by the appalling
+noise, presently gave way likewise, and shrieked a wild accompaniment.
+
+"What ails my children?" said a gentle voice, distinct and clear in its
+calm intonation even in the midst of the uproar, and Cardinal Bonpre,
+tall and stately, suddenly appeared upon the threshold--"What little
+sorrows are these?"
+
+Henri's roar ceased abruptly,--Babette's shrill wailing dropped into
+awed silence. Both youngsters stared amazed at the venerable Felix,
+whose face and figure expressed such composed dignity and sweetness;
+and Madame Patoux, nastily and with frequent gasps for breath, related
+the history of the skirmish.
+
+"And what will become of such little devils when they grow older, the
+Blessed Virgin only knows!" she groaned--"For even now they are so
+suspicious in nature, that they will not believe in their dinner till
+they see it!"
+
+Something like a faint grin widened the mouths of Henri and Babette at
+this statement made with so much distressed fervour by their angry
+mother,--but the Cardinal did not smile. His face had grown very pale
+and grave, almost stern.
+
+"The children are quite right, my daughter," he said gently,--"I am no
+saint! I have performed no miracles. I am a poor sinner,--striving to
+do well, but alas!--for ever striving in vain. The days of noble living
+are past,--and we are all too much fallen in the ways of error to
+deserve that our Lord should bless the too often half-hearted and
+grudging labour of his so-called servants. Come here, ma mignonne!" he
+continued, calling Babette, who approached him with a curious air of
+half-timid boldness--"Thou art but a very little girl," he said, laying
+his thin white hand softly on her tumbled brown curls--"Nevertheless, I
+should be a very foolish old man if I despised thee, or thy thoughts,
+or thy desire to know the truth for truth's sake. Therefore to-morrow
+thou shalt bring me this afflicted friend of thine, and though I have
+no divine gifts, I will do even as the Master commanded,--I will lay my
+hands on him in blessing and pray that he may be healed. More than this
+is not in my power, my child!--if a miracle is to be worked, it is our
+dear Lord only who can work it."
+
+Gently he murmured his formal benediction,--then, turning away, he
+entered his own room and shut the door. Babette, grown strangely
+serious, turned to her brother and held out her hand, moved by one of
+those erratic impulses which often take sudden possession of
+self-willed children.
+
+"Come into the Cathedral!" she whispered imperatively--"Come and say an
+Ave."
+
+Not a word did the usually glib Henri vouchsafe in answer,--but
+clutching his sister's fingers in his own dirty, horny palm, he trotted
+meekly beside her out of the house and across the Square into the
+silence and darkness of Notre Dame. Their mother watched their little
+plump figures disappear with a feeling of mingled amazement and
+gratitude,--miracles were surely beginning, she thought, if a few words
+from the Cardinal could impress Babette and Henri with an idea of the
+necessity of prayer!
+
+They were not long gone, however;--they came walking back together,
+still demurely hand in hand, and settled themselves quietly in a corner
+to study their tasks for the next day. Babette's doll, once attired as
+a fashionable Parisienne, and now degenerated into a one-eyed laundress
+with a rather soiled cap and apron, stuck out its composite arms in
+vain from the bench where it sat all askew, drooping its head forlornly
+over a dustpan,--and Henri's drum, wherewith he was wont to wake
+alarming echoes out of the dreamy and historical streets of Rouen, lay
+on its side neglected and ingloriously silent. And, as before said,
+peace reigned in the Patoux household,--even the entrance of Papa
+Patoux himself, fresh from his celery beds, and smelling of the earth
+earthy, created no particular diversion. He was a very little, very
+cheery, round man, was Papa Patoux; he had no ideas at all in his
+bullet head save that he judged everything to be very well managed in
+the Universe, and that he, considered simply as Patoux, was lucky in
+his life and labours,--also that it was an easy thing to grow celery,
+provided God's blessing was on the soil. For the rest, he took small
+care; he knew that the world wagged in different ways in different
+climates,--he read his half-penny journal daily, and professed to be
+interested in the political situation just for the fun of the thing,
+but in reality he thought the French Senate a pack of fools, and
+wondered what they meant by always talking so much about nothing. He
+believed in "La Patrie" to a certain extent,--but he would have very
+much objected if "La Patrie" had interfered with his celery. Roughly
+sneaking, he understood that France was a nation, and that he was a
+Frenchman; and that if any enemies should presume to come into the
+country, it would be necessary to take up a musket and fight them out
+again, and defend wife, children, and celery-beds till the last breath
+was out of his body. Further than this simple and primitive idea of
+patriotism he did not go. He never bothered himself about dissentient
+shades of opinion, or quarrels among opposing parties. When he had to
+send his children to the Government school, the first thing he asked
+was whether they would be taught their religion there. He was told
+no,--that the Government objected to religious teaching, as it merely
+created discussion and was of no assistance whatever in the material
+business of life. Patoux scratched his head over this for a
+considerable time and ruminated deeply,--finally he smiled, a dull fat
+smile.
+
+"Good!" said he--"I understand now why the Government makes such an ass
+of itself now and then! You cannot expect mere men to do their duty
+wisely without God on their side. But Pere Laurent will teach my
+children their prayers and catechism,--and I dare say Heaven will
+arrange the rest."
+
+And he forthwith dismissed the matter from his mind. His children
+attended the Government school daily,--and every Wednesday, Saturday,
+and Sunday afternoons Pere Laurent, a kindly, simple-hearted old
+priest, took them, with several other little creatures "educated by the
+State", and taught them all he knew about the great France-exiled
+Creator of the Universe, and of His ceaseless love to sinful and
+blasphemous mankind.
+
+So things went on;--and though Henri and Babette were being crammed by
+the national system of instruction, with learning which was destined to
+be of very slight use to them in their after careers, and which made
+them little cynics before their time, they were still sustained within
+bounds by the saving sense of something better than themselves,--that
+Something Better which silently declares itself in the beauty of the
+skies, the blossoming of the flowers, and the loveliness of all things
+wherein man has no part,--and neither of them was yet transformed into
+that most fearsome product of modern days, the child-Atheist, for whom
+there is no greater God than Self.
+
+On this particular night when Papa Patoux returned to the bosom of his
+family, he, though a dull-witted man generally, did not fail to note
+the dove-like spirit of calm that reigned over his entire household.
+His wife's fat face was agreeably placid,--the children were in an
+orderly mood, and as he sat down to the neatly spread supper-table, he
+felt more convinced than ever that things were exceedingly well managed
+for him in this best of all possible worlds. Pausing in the act of
+conveying a large spoonful of steaming soup to his mouth he enquired--
+
+"And Monseigneur, the Cardinal Bonpre,--has he also been served?"
+
+Madame Patoux opened her round eyes wide at him.
+
+"But certainly! Dost thou think, my little cabbage, thou wouldst get
+thy food before Monseigneur? That would be strange indeed!"
+
+Papa Patoux swallowed his ladleful of soup in abashed silence.
+
+"It was a beautiful day in the fields," he presently observed--"There
+was a good smell in the earth, as if violets were growing,--and late in
+the autumn though it is, there was a skylark yet singing. It was a very
+blue heaven, too, as blue as the robe of the Virgin, with clouds as
+white as little angels clinging to it."
+
+Madame nodded. Some people might have thought Papa Patoux inclined to
+be poetical,--she did not. Henri and Babette listened.
+
+"The robe of Our Lady is always blue," said Babette.
+
+"And the angels' clothes are always white," added Henri.
+
+Madame Patoux said nothing, but passed a second helping of soup all
+round. Papa Patoux smiled blandly on his offspring.
+
+"Just so," he averred--"Blue and white are the colours of the sky, my
+little ones,--and Our Lady and the angels live in the sky!"
+
+"I wonder where?" muttered Henri with his mouth half full. "The sky is
+nothing but miles and miles of air, and in the air there are millions
+and millions of planets turning round and round, larger than our
+world,--ever so much larger,--and nobody knows which is the largest of
+them all!"
+
+"It is as thou sayest, my son," said Patoux confidently--"Nobody knows
+which is the largest of them all, but whichever it may be, that largest
+of them all belongs to Our Lady and the angels."
+
+Henri looked at Babette, but Babette was munching watercress busily,
+and did not return his enquiring glances. Papa Patoux, quite satisfied
+with his own reasoning, continued his supper in an amiable state of
+mind.
+
+"What didst thou serve to Monseigneur, my little one?" he asked his
+wife with a coaxing and caressing air, as though she were some delicate
+and dainty sylph of the woodlands, instead of being the lady of massive
+proportions which she undoubtedly was,--"Something of delicacy and fine
+flavour, doubtless?"
+
+Madame Patoux shook her head despondingly.
+
+"He would have nothing of that kind," she replied--"Soup maigre, and
+afterwards nothing but bread, dried figs, and apples to finish. Ah,
+Heaven! What a supper for a Cardinal-Archbishop! It is enough to make
+one weep!"
+
+Patoux considered the matter solemnly.
+
+"He is perhaps very poor?" he half queried.
+
+"Poor, he may be," responded Madame,--"But if he is, it is surely his
+own fault,--whoever heard of a poor Cardinal-Archbishop! Such men can
+all be rich if they choose."
+
+"Can they?" asked Henri with sudden vivacious eagerness. "How?"
+
+But his question was not answered, for just at that moment a loud knock
+came at the door of the inn, and a tall broadly built personage in
+close canonical attire appeared in the narrow little passage of entry,
+attended by another smaller and very much more insignificant-looking
+individual.
+
+Patoux hastily scrambled out of his chair.
+
+"The Archbishop!" he whispered to his wife--"He himself! Our own
+Archbishop!"
+
+Madame Patoux jumped up, and seizing her children, held one in each
+hand as she curtsied up and down.
+
+"Benedicite!" said the new-comer, lightly signing the cross in air with
+a sociable smile--"Do not disturb yourselves, my children! You have
+with you in this house the eminent Cardinal Bonpre?"
+
+"Ah, yes, Monseigneur!" replied Madame Patoux--"Only just now he has
+finished his little supper. Shall I show Monseigneur to his room?"
+
+"If you please," returned the Archbishop, still smiling
+benevolently--"And permit my secretary to wait with you here till I
+return."
+
+With this, and an introductory wave of his hand in the direction of the
+attenuated and sallow-faced personage who had accompanied him, he
+graciously permitted Madame Patoux to humbly precede him by a few
+steps, and then followed her with a soft, even tread, and a sound as of
+rustling silk in his garments, from which a faint odour of some
+delicate perfume seemed wafted as he moved.
+
+Left to entertain the Archbishop's secretary, Jean Patoux was for a
+minute or two somewhat embarrassed. Henri and Babette stared at the
+stranger with undisguised curiosity, and were apparently not favourably
+impressed by his appearance.
+
+"He has white eyelashes!" whispered Henri.
+
+"And yellow teeth," responded Babette.
+
+Meanwhile Patoux, having scratched his bullet-head sufficiently over
+the matter, offered his visitor a chair.
+
+"Sit down, sir," he said curtly.
+
+The secretary smiled pallidly and took the proffered accommodation.
+Patoux again meditated. He was not skilled in the art of polite
+conversation, and he found himself singularly at a loss.
+
+"It would be an objection no doubt, and an irreverance perhaps to smoke
+a pipe before you, Monsieur--Monsieur--"
+
+"Cazeau," finished the secretary with another pallid smile--"Claude
+Cazeau, a poor scribe,--at your service! And I beg of you, Monsieur
+Jean Patoux, to smoke at your distinguished convenience!"
+
+There was a faint tone of satire in his voice which struck Papa Patoux
+as exceedingly disagreeable, though he could not quite imagine why he
+found it so. He slowly reached for his pipe from the projecting shelf
+above the chimney, and as slowly proceeded to fill it with tobacco from
+a tin cannister close by.
+
+"I do not think I have ever seen you in the town, Monsieur Cazeau," he
+said--"Nor at Mass in the Cathedral either?"
+
+"No?" responded Cazeau easily, in a half-querying tone--"I do not much
+frequent the streets; and I only attend the first early mass on
+Sundays. My work for Monseigneur occupies my whole time."
+
+"Ah!" and Patoux, having stuffed his pipe sufficiently, lit it, and
+proceeded to smoke peaceably--"There must be much to do. Many poor and
+sick who need money, and clothes, and help in every way,--and to try
+and do good, and give comfort to all the unhappy souls in Rouen is a
+hard task, even for an Archbishop."
+
+Cazeau linked his thin hands together with an action of pious fervour
+and assented.
+
+"There is a broken-hearted creature near us," pursued Patoux
+leisurely--"We call her Marguerite La Folle;--I have often thought I
+would ask Pere Laurent to speak to Monseigneur for her, that she might
+be released from the devils that are tearing her. She was a good girl
+till a year or two ago,--then some villain got the ruin of her, and she
+lost her wits over it. Ah,'tis a sad sight to see her now--poor
+Marguerite Valmond!"
+
+"Ha!" cried Henri suddenly, pointing a grimy finger at Cazeau--"Why did
+you jump? Did something hurt you?"
+
+Cazeau had indeed "jumped," as Henri put it,--that is, he had sprung up
+from his chair suddenly and as suddenly sat down again with an air of
+impatience and discomfort. He rapidly overcame whatever emotion moved
+him, however, and stretched his thin mouth in a would-be amiable grin
+at the observant Henri.
+
+"You are a sharp boy!" he observed condescendingly--"and tall for your
+age, no doubt. How old are you?"
+
+"Eleven," replied Henri--"But that has nothing to do with your jumping."
+
+"True," and the secretary wriggled in his chair, pretending to be much
+amused--"But my jumping had nothing to do with you either, my small
+friend! I had a thought,--a sudden thought,--of a duty forgotten."
+
+"Oh, it was a thought, was it?" and Henri looked incredulous. "Do
+thoughts always make you jump?"
+
+"Tais-toi! Tais-toi!" murmured Patoux gently, between two whiffs of his
+pipe--"Excuse him, Monsieur Cazeau,--he is but a child."
+
+Cazeau writhed amicably.
+
+"A delightful child," he murmured--"And the little girl--his sister--is
+also charming--Ah, what fine dark eyes!--what hair! Will she not come
+and speak to me?"
+
+He held out a hand invitingly towards Babette, but she merely made a
+grimace at him and retired backwards. Patoux smiled benevolently.
+
+"She does not like strangers," he explained.
+
+"Good--very good! That is right! Little girls should always run away
+from strangers, especially strangers of my sex," observed Cazeau with a
+sniggering laugh--"And do these dear children go to school?"
+
+Patoux took his pipe out of his mouth altogether, and stared solemnly
+at the ceiling.
+
+"Without doubt!--they are compelled to go to school," he answered
+slowly; "but if I could have had my way, they should never have gone.
+They learn mischief there in plenty, but no good that I can see. They
+know much about geography, and the stars, and anatomy, and what they
+call physical sciences;--but whether they have got it into their heads
+that the good God wants them to live straight, clean, honest, wholesome
+lives, is more than I am certain of. However, I trust Pere Laurent will
+do what he can."
+
+"Pere Laurent?" echoed Cazeau, with a wide smile--"You have a high
+opinion of Pere Laurent? Ah, yes, a good man!--but ignorant--alas! very
+ignorant!"
+
+Papa Patoux brought his eyes down from the ceiling and fixed them
+enquiringly on Cazeau.
+
+"Ignorant?" he began, when at this juncture Madame Patoux entered, and
+taking possession of Henri and Babette, informed Monsieur Cazeau that
+the Archbishop would be for some time engaged in conversation with
+Cardinal Bonpre, and that therefore he, Monsieur Cazeau, need not
+wait,--Monseigneur would return to his house alone. Whereupon the
+secretary rose, evidently glad to be set at liberty, and took his leave
+of the Patoux family. On the threshold, however, he paused, looking
+back somewhat frowningly at Jean Patoux himself.
+
+"I should not, if I were you, trouble Monseigneur concerning the case
+you told me of--that of--of Marguerite Valmond,"--he observed--"He has
+a horror of evil women."
+
+With that he departed, walking across the Square towards the
+Archbishop's house in a stealthy sort of fashion, as though he were a
+burglar meditating some particularly daring robbery.
+
+"He is a rat--a rat!" exclaimed Henri, suddenly executing a sort of
+reasonless war-dance round the kitchen--"One wants a cat to catch him!"
+
+"Rats are nice," declared Babette, for she remembered having once had a
+tame white rat which sat on her knee and took food from her
+hand,--"Monsieur Cazeau is a man; and men are not nice."
+
+Patoux burst into a loud laugh.
+
+"Men are not nice!" he echoed--"What dost thou know about it, thou
+little droll one?"
+
+"What I see," responded Babette severely, with an elderly air, as of a
+person who has suffered by bitter experience; and, undeterred by her
+parents' continued laughter she went on--
+
+"Men are ugly. They are dirty. They say 'Come here my little girl, and
+I will give you something,'--then when I go to them they try and kiss
+me. And I will not kiss them, because their mouths smell bad. They
+stroke my hair and pull it all the wrong way. And it hurts. And when I
+don't like my hair pulled the wrong way, they tell me I will be a great
+coquette. A coquette is to be like Diane de Poitiers. Shall I be like
+Diane de Poitiers?"
+
+"The saints forbid!" cried Madame Patoux,--"And talk no more nonsense,
+child,--it's bed-time. Come,--say good-night to thy father,
+Henri;--give them thy blessing, Jean--and let me get them into their
+beds before the Archbishop leaves the house, or they will be asking him
+as many questions as there are in the catechism."
+
+Thus enjoined, Papa Patoux kissed his children affectionately, signing
+the cross on their brows as they came up to him in turn, after the
+fashion of his own father, who had continued this custom up to his
+dying day. What they thought of the benediction in itself might be
+somewhat difficult to define, but it can be safely asserted that a
+passion of tears on the part of Babette, and a fit of demoniacal
+howling from Henri, would have been the inevitable result if Papa
+Patoux had refused to bestow it on them. Whether there were virtue in
+it or not, their father's mute blessing sent them to bed peaceably and
+in good humour with each other, and they trotted off very contentedly
+beside their mother, hushing their footsteps and lowering their voices
+as they passed the door of the room occupied by Cardinal Bonpre.
+
+"The Archbishop is not an angel, is he?" asked Babette whisperingly.
+
+Her mother smiled broadly.
+
+"Not exactly, my little one. Why such a foolish question?"
+
+"You said that Cardinal Bonpre was a saint, and that perhaps we should
+see an angel come down from heaven to visit him," replied Babette.
+
+"Well, you could not have thought the Archbishop came from heaven,"
+interpolated Henri, scornfully,--"He came from his own house over the
+way with his own secretary behind him. Do angels keep secretaries?"
+
+Babette laughed aloud,--the idea was grotesque. The two children were
+just then ascending the wooden stairs to their bedroom, the mother
+carrying a lighted candle behind them, and at that moment the rich
+sonorous voice of the Archbishop, raised to a high and somewhat
+indignant tone, reached them with these words--"I consider that you
+altogether mistake your calling and position."
+
+Then the voice died away into inaudible murmurings.
+
+"They are quarrelling! The Archbishop is angry!" said Henri with a grin.
+
+"Perhaps Archbishops do not like saints," suggested Babette.
+
+"Tais-toi! Cardinal Bonpre is an archbishop himself, little silly,"
+said Madame Patoux--"Therefore those great and distinguished
+Monseigneurs are like brothers."
+
+"That is why they are quarrelling!" declared Henri glibly,--"A boy told
+me in school that Cain and Abel were the first pair of brothers, and
+they quarrelled,--and all brothers have quarrelled ever since. It's in
+the blood, so that boy says,--and it is his excuse always for fighting
+HIS little brother. His little brother is six, and he is twelve;--and
+of course he always knocks his little brother down. He cannot help it,
+he says. And he gets books on physiology and heredity, and he learns in
+them that whatever is IN the blood has got to come out somehow. He says
+that it's because Cain killed Abel that there are wars between
+nations;--if Cain and Abel had never quarrelled, there would never have
+been any fighting in the world,--and now that it's in the blood of
+every body--"
+
+But further sapient discourse on the part of Henri was summarily put an
+end to by his mother's ordering him to kneel down and say his prayers,
+and afterwards bundling him into bed,--where, being sleepy, he speedily
+forgot all that he had been trying to talk about. Babette took more
+time in retiring to rest. She had very pretty, curly, brown hair, and
+Madame Patoux took a pride in brushing and plaiting it neatly.
+
+"I may be like Diane de Poitiers after all," she remarked, peering at
+herself in the small mirror when her thick locks were smoothed and tied
+back for the night--"Why should I not be?"
+
+"Because Diane de Poitiers was a wicked woman," said Madame Patoux
+energetically,--"and thou must learn to be a good girl."
+
+"But if Diane de Poitiers was bad, why do they talk so much about her
+even now, and put her in all the histories, and show her house, and say
+she was beautiful?" went on Babette.
+
+"Because people are foolish," said Madame, getting impatient--"Foolish
+people run after bad women, and bad women run after foolish people. Now
+say thy prayers."
+
+Obediently Babette knelt down, shut her eyes close, clasped her hands
+hard, and murmured the usual evening formula, heaving a small sigh
+after her "act of contrition," and looking almost saintly as she
+commended herself to her "angel guardian." Then her mother kissed her,
+saying--
+
+"Good-night, little daughter! Think of Our Lady and the saints, and
+then ask them to keep us safe from evil. Good-night!"
+
+"Good-night." responded Babette sleepily,--but all the same she did not
+think of Our Lady and the saints half as much as of Diane de Poitiers.
+There are few daughters of Eve to whom conquest does not seem a finer
+thing than humility; and the sovereignty of Diane de Poitiers over a
+king, seems to many a girl just conscious of her own charm, a more
+emphatic testimony to the supremacy of her sex, than the Angel's
+greeting of "Blessed art thou!" to the elected Virgin of the world.
+
+
+
+
+III.
+
+Meanwhile a somewhat embarrassing interview had taken place between the
+Archbishop of Rouen and Cardinal Bonpre. The archbishop, seen by the
+light of the one small lamp which illumined the "best room" of the
+Hotel Poitiers was certainly a handsome and imposing personage,
+broad-chested and muscular, with a massive head, well set on strong
+square shoulders, admirably adapted for the wearing of the dark violet
+soutane which fitted them as gracefully as a royal vesture draping the
+figure of a king. One disproportionate point, however, about his attire
+was, that the heavy gold crucifix which depended by a chain from his
+neck, did not, with him, look so much a sacred symbol as a trivial
+ornament,--whereas the simple silver one that gleamed against the rusty
+black scarlet-edged cassock of Cardinal Bonpre, presented itself as the
+plain and significant sign of holiness without the aid of jewellers'
+workmanship to emphasize its meaning. This was a trifle, no
+doubt;--still it was one of those slight things which often betray
+character. As the most brilliant diamond will look like common glass on
+the rough red hand of a cook, while common glass will simulate the
+richness of the real gem on the delicate white finger of a
+daintily-bred woman, so the emblem of salvation seemed a mere bauble
+and toy on the breast of the Archbishop, while it assumed its most
+reverent and sacred aspect as worn by Felix Bonpre. Yet judged by mere
+outward appearance, there could be no doubt as to which was the
+finer-looking man of the two. The Cardinal, thin and pale, with shadows
+of thought and pain in his eyes, and the many delicate wrinkles of
+advancing age marking his features, would never possess so much
+attractiveness for worldly and superficial persons as the handsome
+Archbishop, who carried his fifty-five years as though they were but
+thirty, and whose fresh, plump face, unmarred by any serious
+consideration, bespoke a thorough enjoyment of life, and the things
+which life,--if encouraged to demand them,--most strenuously seeks,
+such as good food, soft beds, rich clothing, and other countless
+luxuries which are not necessities by any means, but which make the
+hours move smoothly and softly, undisturbed by the clash of outside
+events among those who are busy with thoughts and actions, and
+who,--being absorbed in the thick of a soul-contest,--care little
+whether their bodies fare ill or well. The Archbishop certainly did not
+belong to this latter class,--indeed he considered too much thought as
+mischievous in itself, and when thought appeared likely to break forth
+into action, he denounced it as pernicious and well-nigh criminal.
+
+"Thinkers," he said once to a young and ardent novice, studying for the
+priesthood, "are generally socialists and revolutionists. They are an
+offence to the Church and a danger to the community."
+
+"Surely," murmured the novice timidly,--"Our Lord Himself was a
+thinker? And a Socialist likewise?"
+
+But at this the Archbishop rose up in wrath and flashed forth menace;--
+
+"If you are a follower of Renan, sir, you had better admit it before
+proceeding further in your studies," he said irately,--"The Church is
+too much troubled in these days by the members of a useless and
+degenerate apostasy!" Whereupon the young man had left his presence
+abashed, puzzled, and humiliated; but scarcely penitent, inasmuch as
+his New Testament taught him that he was right and that the Archbishop
+was wrong.
+
+Truth to tell, the Archbishop was very often wrong. Wrapped up in
+himself and his own fixed notions as to how life should be lived, he
+seldom looked out upon the larger world, and obstinately refused to
+take any thoughtful notice of the general tendency of public opinion in
+all countries concerning religion and morality. All that he was unable
+to explain, he flatly denied,--and his prejudices were as violent as
+his hatred of contradiction was keen. The saintly life and noble deeds
+of Felix Bonpre had reached him from time to time through various
+rumours repeated by different priests and dignitaries of the Church,
+who had travelled as far as the distant little Cathedral-town embowered
+among towering pines and elm trees, where the Cardinal had his abiding
+seat of duty;--and he had been anxious to meet the man who in these
+days of fastidious feeding and luxurious living, had managed to gain
+such a holy reputation as to be almost canonized in some folks'
+estimation before he was dead. Hearing that Bonpre intended to stay a
+couple of nights in Rouen, he cordially invited him to spend that time
+at his house,--but the invitation had been gratefully yet firmly
+refused, much to the Archbishop's amazement. This amazement increased
+considerably when he learned that the dingy, comfortless, little Hotel
+Poitiers had been selected by the Cardinal as his temporary
+lodging,--and it was not without a pious murmur concerning "the pride
+which apes humility" that he betook himself to that ancient and
+despised hostelry, which had nothing whatever in the way of a modern
+advantage to recommend it,--neither electric light, nor electric bell,
+nor telephone. But he felt it incumbent upon him to pay a fraternal
+visit to the Cardinal, who had become in a manner famous without being
+at all aware of his fame,--and when finally in his presence, he was
+conscious not only of a singular disappointment, but an equally
+singular perplexity. Felix Bonpre was not at all the sort of personage
+he had expected to see. He had imagined that a Churchman who was able
+to obtain a character for saintliness in days like these, must needs be
+worldly-wise and crafty, with a keen perception and comprehension of
+the follies of mankind, and an ability to use these follies
+advantageously to further his own ends. Something of the cunning and
+foresight of an ancient Egyptian sorcerer was in the composition of the
+Archbishop himself, for he judged mankind alone by its general
+stupidity and credulity;--stupidity and credulity which formed
+excellent ground for the working of miracles, whether such miracles
+were wrought in the name of Osiris or Christ. Mokanna, the "Veiled
+Prophet," while corrupt to the core with unnameable vices, had managed
+in his time to delude the people into thinking him a holy man;
+and,--without any adequate reason for his assumption,--the Archbishop
+had certainly prepared himself to meet in Felix Bonpre, a shrewd,
+calculating, clever priest, absorbed in acting the part of an excessive
+holiness in order to secure such honour in his diocese as should
+attract the particular notice of the Vatican. "Playing for Pope," in
+fact, had been the idea with which the archbishop had invested the
+Cardinal's reputed sanctity, and he was astonished and in a manner
+irritated to find himself completely mistaken. He had opened the
+conversation by the usual cordial trivialities of ordinary greeting, to
+which Bonpre had responded with the suave courtesy and refined
+gentleness which always dignified his manner,--and then the Archbishop
+had ventured to offer a remonstrance on the unconventional--"Shall we
+call it eccentric?" he suggested, smiling amicably,--conduct of the
+Cardinal in choosing to abide in such a comfortless lodging as the
+Hotel Poitiers.
+
+"It would have been a pleasure and an honour to me to welcome you at my
+house"--he said--"Really, it is quite a violation of custom and usage
+that you should be in this wretched place; the accommodation is not at
+all fitted for a prince of the Church."
+
+Cardinal Felix raised one hand in gentle yet pained protest.
+
+"Pardon me!" he said, "I do not like that term, 'prince of the Church.'
+There are no princes in the Church--or if there are, there should be
+none."
+
+The archbishop opened his eyes widely.
+
+"That is a strange remark!" he ejaculated--"Princes of the Church there
+have always been since Cardinals were created; and you, being a
+Cardinal and an Archbishop as well, cannot be otherwise than one of
+them."
+
+Felix Bonpre sighed.
+
+"Still, I maintain that the term is a wrong one," he answered, "and
+used in the wrong place. The Church has nothing, or should have nothing
+to do with differing titles or places. The ordinary priest who toils
+among his congregation day and night, scarcely resting himself, working
+and praying for the spiritual welfare of others, should to my thinking
+be as greatly held in honour as the bishop who commands him and who
+often--so it chances--is able to do less for our Lord than he. In
+things temporal, owing to the constant injustice of man practised
+against his brother-man, we can seldom attain to strict impartiality of
+judgment,--but in things spiritual, there surely should be perfect
+equality."
+
+"Seriously speaking, are those your views?" enquired the Archbishop,
+his features expressing more and more astonishment.
+
+"Assuredly!" responded the Cardinal gently,--"Are they not yours? Did
+not the Master Himself say 'Whosoever will be chief among you, let him
+be your servant'? And 'Whosoever shall exalt himself shall be abased'?
+These statements are plain and true,--there is no mistaking them."
+
+The Archbishop was silent for a minute or so.
+
+"Unfortunately we cannot apply our Lord's words literally to every-day
+exigencies," he murmured suavely--"If we could do so--"
+
+"We SHOULD do so," said the Cardinal with emphasis--"The outside world
+may be disinclined to do so,--but we--we who are the representatives of
+a God-given faith, are solemnly bound to do so. And I fear--I very much
+fear--that it is because in many cases we have not shown the example
+expected of us, that heresy and atheism are so common among the people
+of the present day."
+
+"Are you a would-be reformer?" asked the Archbishop good-humouredly,
+yet not without a touch of satire in his tone,--"If so, you are not
+alone--there have already been many!"
+
+"Nay, I desire no reforms," responded the Cardinal, a faint flush
+warming the habitual pallor of his cheeks--"I simply wish to
+maintain--not alter--the doctrine of our Lord. No reform is necessary
+in that,--it is clear, concise, and simple enough for a child to
+understand. His command to His disciples was,--'Feed my sheep'--and I
+have of late been troubled and perplexed, because it seems to me that
+the sheep are not fed;--that despite churches and teachers and
+preachers, whole flocks are starving."
+
+The Archbishop moved uneasily in his chair. His habitual violent spirit
+of contradiction rose up rebelliously in him, and he longed to give a
+sharp answer in confutation of the Cardinal's words, but there was a
+touch of the sycophant in his nature despite his personal pride, and he
+could not but reflect that Cardinals ranked above Archbishops, and that
+Felix Bonpre was in very truth a "prince of the Church" however much he
+himself elected to disclaim the title. And as in secular affairs lesser
+men will always bow the knee to royalty, so the Archbishop felt the
+necessity of temporising with one who was spiritually royal. Therefore
+he considered a moment before replying.
+
+"I think," he said at last, in soft persuasive tones, "that your
+conscience may perhaps be a little tender on this subject. But I cannot
+agree with you in your supposition that whole flocks are starving;--for
+Christianity dominates the better and more intellectual part of the
+civilized world, and through its doctrines, men are gradually learning
+to be more tolerant and less unjust. When we recollect the barbarous
+condition of humanity before the coming of Christ--"
+
+"Barbarous?" interrupted the Cardinal with half a smile,--"You would
+hardly apply that term to the luxury-loving peoples of Tyre and
+Babylon?--or to the ancient splendours of Athens and Rome?"
+
+"They were heathens," said the Archbishop sententiously.
+
+"But they were men and women," replied Bonpre, "And they too had
+immortal souls. They were all more or less struggling towards the
+fundamental Idea of good. Of course then, as now that Idea was
+overgrown by superstitious myths and observances--but the working
+tendency of the whole universe being ever towards Good, not Evil, an
+impulse to press on in the right direction was always in the brain of
+man, no matter how dimly felt. Primitive notions of honour were strange
+indeed; nevertheless honour existed in the minds of the early
+barbarians in a vague sense, though distorted out of shape and noblest
+meaning. No,--we dare not take upon ourselves to assert that men were
+altogether barbarous before the coming of Christ. They were cruel and
+unjust certainly,--and alas! they are cruel and unjust still! Eighteen
+hundred years of Christian teaching have not eradicated these ingrained
+sins from any one unit of the entire mass."
+
+"You are a severe judge!" said the Archbishop.
+
+Cardinal Bonpre lifted his mild blue eyes protestingly.
+
+"Severe? I? God forbid that I should be severe, or presume to sit in
+judgment on any poor soul that sought my sympathy! I do not judge,--I
+simply feel. And my feelings have for a long time, I confess, been
+poignantly sorrowful."
+
+"Sorrowful! And why?"
+
+"Because the impression has steadily gained upon me that if our Church
+were all it was originally intended to be by its Divine Founder, we
+should at this time have neither heresies or apostasies, and all the
+world would be gathered into the 'one fold under one Shepherd.' But if
+we, who are its ministers, persist in occupying ourselves more with
+'things temporal' than 'things spiritual,' we fail to perform our
+mission, or to show the example required of us, and we do not attract,
+so much as we repel. The very children of the present day are beginning
+to doubt our calling and election."
+
+"Oh, of course there are, and always have been heretics and atheists,"
+said the Archbishop,--"And apparently there always will be."
+
+"And I venture to maintain that it is our fault that heretics and
+atheists continue to exist," replied the Cardinal; "If our Divine faith
+were lived divinely, there would be no room for heresy or atheism. The
+Church itself supplies the loophole for apostasy."
+
+The Archbishop's handsome face crimsoned.
+
+"You amaze me by such an expression!" he said, raising his voice a
+little in the indignation he could scarcely conceal--"you talk--pardon
+me--as if you yourself were uncertain of the Church's ability to
+withstand unbelief."
+
+"I speak but as I think," answered the Cardinal gently. "And I admit I
+AM uncertain. In the leading points of reed I am very steadfastly
+convinced;--namely, that Christ was divine, and that the following of
+His Gospel is the saving of the immortal soul. But if you ask me
+whether I think we do truly follow that Gospel, I must own that I have
+doubts upon the matter."
+
+"An elected favourite son of the Church should surely have no doubts!"
+said the Archbishop.
+
+"Ah, there you come back to the beginning from which we started, when I
+ventured to object to your term 'prince of the Church.' According to
+our Master, all men should be equal before Him; therefore we err in
+marking differences of rank or favoritism in questions of religion. The
+very idea of rank is anti-Christian."
+
+At this the Archbishop began to look seriously annoyed.
+
+"I am afraid you are indulging in very unorthodox ideas," he said with
+impatience--"In fact I consider you altogether mistake your calling and
+position."
+
+These were the words which had reached the attentive ears of the Patoux
+children on their way up to bed, and had caused Henri to declare that
+the Archbishop and the Cardinal were quarrelling. Felix Bonpre took the
+somewhat violent remark, however, with perfect equanimity.
+
+"Possibly I may do so," he responded peaceably. "We are all subject to
+error. My calling, as I take it, is that of a servant of Christ, whose
+instructions for work are plainly set down in His own words. It is for
+me to follow these instructions as literally and exactly as I can. With
+regard to my position, I am placed as the spiritual head of a very
+small diocese, where the people for the most part lead very innocent
+and harmless lives. But I should be selfish and narrow in spirit if I
+allowed myself to limit my views to my own circle of influence. My
+flock are mere rustics in intellectual capacity, and have no conception
+of the manner in which the larger tide of human events is flowing. Now
+and then one or two of the people grow weary of their quiet pastures
+and woodlands,--and being young, hopeful, and ardent, start forth into
+the great world, there to seek fairer fortunes. Sometimes they come
+back to their old homes. Far more frequently they never return. But
+those who do come back are changed utterly. I recognise no more the
+young men and maidens whom I confirmed in their faith, and laid my
+hands on in blessing ere they fared forth to other lives and scenes.
+The men are grown callous and worldly; without a heart,--without a
+thought,--save for the gain or loss of gold. The women are--ruined!"
+
+He paused a moment. The Archbishop said nothing.
+
+"I love my people," went on the Cardinal pathetically--"No child is
+baptised in our old Cathedral without my praying for its future
+good,--without my hope that it may grow into that exquisite mingling of
+the Divine and Human which our Lord taught us was the perfection of
+life, and His desire to see fulfilled in those He called His own.
+Yes,--I love my people!--and when any of them go away from me, and then
+return to the scenes of their childhood broken-hearted, I cannot meet
+them with reproach. My own heart is half broken to see them thus cast
+down. And their sorrows have compelled me naturally to meditate on the
+sorrows of others,--to consider what it is in the world which thus
+corrodes the pure gold of innocence and robs life of its greatest
+charm. For if Christ's spirit ruled us all, then innocence should be
+held more sacred. Life should engender happiness. I have studied, read,
+and thought long, upon these matters, so that I not only feel, but know
+the truth of what I say. Brother!--" and the Cardinal, strongly moved,
+rose suddenly and confronted the Archbishop with a passionate
+gesture--"My great grief is that the spirit of Christ does NOT rule the
+world! Christ is being re-crucified by this generation! And the Church
+is looking on, and silently permitting His second murder!"
+
+Startled by the force of this expression, the Archbishop sprang up in
+his turn, his lips parted as if to speak--then--his angry glance met
+the clear, calm, steadfast look of Felix Bonpre, and he faltered. His
+eyes drooped--and his massive figure seemed for a moment to shrink with
+a sort of abasement. Like an inspired apostle the Cardinal stood, one
+hand outstretched,--his whole frame sentient with the strong emotion
+which possessed him.
+
+"You know that what I say is true," he continued in quieter but no less
+intensely passionate accents--"You know that every day sees our Master
+crowned with new thorns and exposed to fresh torture! You know that we
+do nothing!--We stand beside Him in His second agony as dumb as though
+we were unconscious of it! You know that we MIGHT speak and will not!
+You know that we fear the ephemera of temporary governments, policies,
+and social conventionalities, more than the great, real, and terrible
+judgment of the world to come!"
+
+"But all these things have been said before," began the Archbishop,
+recovering a little from the confusion that had momentarily seized
+him,--"And as I just now observed, you should remember that there have
+always been heretics from the very beginning."
+
+"Oh, I remember!" and the Cardinal sighed, "How is it possible that any
+of us should forget! Heretics, whom we have tortured with unheard-of
+agonies and burned in the flames, as a proof of our love and sympathy
+with the tenderness of Christ Jesus!"
+
+"You are going too far back in time!" said the Archbishop quickly. "We
+erred in the beginning through excess of zeal, but now--now--"
+
+"Now we do exactly the same thing," returned Bonpre--"Only we do not
+burn physically our heretics, but morally. We condemn all who oppose
+us. Good men and brave thinkers, whom in our arrogance we consign to
+eternal damnation, instead of endeavouring to draw out the heart of
+their mystery, and gather up the gems of their learning as fresh proofs
+of the active presence of God's working in, and through all things!
+Think of the Church's invincible and overpowering obstinacy in the case
+of Galileo! He declared the existence of God to us by the utterance of
+a Truth,--inasmuch as every truth is a new message from God. Had he
+pronounced his theories before our divine Master, that Master would
+have confirmed, not denied them! Have we one single example of Christ
+putting to the torture any poor soul that did not believe in Him?
+Nay--He Himself submitted to be tortured; but for those who wronged
+Him, His prayer was only--'Father, forgive them, for they know not what
+they do.' THEY KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO! The ministers of truth should
+rather suffer themselves than let others suffer. The horrors of the
+Inquisition are a blot on religious history; our Master never meant us
+to burn and torture men into faith. He desired us to love and lead them
+into the way of life as the shepherd leads a flock into the fold. I
+repeat again, there would have been no room for atheism if we--we--the
+servants of Christ, had been strictly true to our vocation."
+
+By this time the Archbishop had recovered his equanimity. He sat down
+and surveyed the up-standing figure of the Cardinal with curiosity and
+a touch of pity.
+
+"You think too much of these things," he said soothingly--"You are
+evidently overwrought with study and excessive zeal. Much that you say
+may be true; nevertheless the Church--OUR Church--stands firm among
+overwhelming contradictions,--and we, its ministers, do what we can. I
+myself am disposed to think that the multitude of the saved is greater
+than the multitude of the lost."
+
+"I envy you the consolation such a thought must give," responded the
+Cardinal, as he resumed his seat opposite his visitor--"I, on the
+contrary, have the pained and bitter sense that we are to blame for all
+this 'multitude of the lost,' or at any rate that we could have done
+more in the way of rescue than we have done." He paused a moment,
+passing one hand across his forehead wearily. "In truth this is what
+has for a long time weighed upon my mind, and depressed my spirits even
+to the detriment of bodily health. I am nearing the grave, and must
+soon give an account of my stewardship;--and the knowledge of the
+increasing growth of evil in the world is almost more than I can bear."
+
+"But you are not to blame," said the Archbishop wonderingly,--"In your
+own diocese you have fulfilled your duty; more than this is not
+expected of you. You have done your best for the people you serve,--and
+reports of your charities and good works are not lacking--"
+
+"Do not credit such reports," interrupted the Cardinal, almost
+sternly,--"I have done nothing--absolutely nothing! My life has been
+too peaceful,--too many undeserved blessings have been bestowed upon
+me. I much fear that the calm and quiet of my days have rendered me
+selfish. I think I should long ago have sought some means of engaging
+in more active duties. I feel as if I should have gone into the thick
+of the religious contest, and spoken and fought, and helped the sick
+and wounded of the mental battle,--but now--now it is too late!"
+
+"Nothing is too late for one in your position," said the
+Archbishop--"You may yet sit in St. Peter's chair!"
+
+"God forbid!" ejaculated Bonpre fervently--"I would rather die! I have
+never wished to rule,--I have only sought to help and to comfort. But
+sixty-eight years of life weigh heavily on the faculties,--I cannot
+wear the sword and buckler of energetic manhood. I am old--old!--and to
+a certain extent, incapacitated for useful labour. Hence I almost
+grudge my halcyon time spent among simple folk,--time made sweet by all
+the surroundings of Nature's pastoral loveliness;--the sorrow of the
+wider world knocks at my heart and makes it ache! I feel that I am one
+of those who stand by, idly watching the Master's second death without
+one word of protest!"
+
+The archbishop listened in silence. There was a curious shamed look
+upon his face, as if some secret sin within himself had suddenly been
+laid bare in all its vileness to the light of day. The golden crucifix
+he wore moved restlessly with a certain agitated quickness in his
+breathing, and he did not raise his eyes, when, after a little pause,
+he said--
+
+"I tell you, as I told you before, that you think too much; you are
+altogether too sensitive. I admit that at the present day the world is
+full of terrible heresies and open blasphemy, but this is part of what
+we are always bound to expect,--we are told that we must 'suffer for
+righteousness' sake--'"
+
+"We!" said the Cardinal--"Yes, WE! that is, OURSELVES;--the Church--WE
+think, when we hear of heresies and blasphemies that it is we who are
+'suffering for righteousness' sake,' but in our egotism we forget that
+WE are not suffering at all if we are able to retain our faith! It is
+the very heretics and blasphemers whom we condemn that are
+suffering--suffering absolute tortures--perchance 'for righteousness'
+sake'!"
+
+"Dare we call a heretic 'righteous'?" enquired the Archbishop--"Is he
+not, in his very heresy, accursed?"
+
+"According to our Lord, no one is accursed save traitors,--that is to
+say those who are not true. If a man doubts, it is better he should
+admit his doubt than make a pretence of belief. The persons whom we
+call heretics may have their conception of the truth,--they may say
+that they cannot accept a creed which is so ignorant of its own tenets
+as to condemn all those who do not follow it,--inasmuch as the very
+Founder of it distinctly says--'If any man hear my words and believe
+not, I judge him not; for I came not to judge the world, but to save
+the world.' Now we, His followers, judge, but do not save. The atheist
+is judged by us, but not rescued from his unbelief; the thinker is
+condemned,--the scientist who reveals the beauty and wisdom of God as
+made manifest in the composition of the lightning, or the germinating
+of a flower, is accused of destroying religion. And we continue to pass
+our opinion, and thunder our vetoes and bans of excommunication against
+our fellowmen, in the full front of the plain command 'Judge not, that
+ye be not judged'!"
+
+"I see it is no use arguing with you," said the Archbishop, forcing a
+smile, with a vexation the smile could not altogether conceal,--"You
+are determined to take these sayings absolutely,--and to fret your
+spirit over the non-performance of imaginary duties which do not exist.
+This Church is a system,--founded on our Lord's teaching, but applied
+to the needs of modern civilization. It is not humanly possible to
+literally obey all Christ's commands."
+
+"For the outside world I grant it may be difficult,--but for the
+ministers of religion, however difficult it may be, it should be done,"
+replied the Cardinal firmly. "I said this before, and I deliberately
+maintain it. The Church IS a system,--but whether it is as much founded
+on the teaching of our Lord, who was divine, as on the teaching of St.
+Paul, who was NOT divine, is a question to me of much perplexity."
+
+"St. Paul was directly inspired by our Lord," said the Archbishop--"I
+am amazed that you should even hint a doubt of his apostleship!"
+
+"I do not decry St. Paul," answered Bonpre quietly--"He was a gifted
+and clever man, but he was a Man--he was not God-in-Man. Christ's
+doctrine leaves no place for differing sects; St. Paul's method of
+applying that doctrine serves as authority for the establishment of any
+and every quarrelsome sect ever known!"
+
+"I cannot agree with you," said the Archbishop coldly.
+
+"I do not expect to be agreed with"--and Bonpre smiled a little--"An
+opinion which excites no opposition at all is not worth having! I am
+quite honest in my scruples, such as they are;--I do not think we fit,
+as you say, the Church system to the needs of modern civilization. On
+the contrary, we must fail in many ways to do this, else there would
+not be such a crying out for help and comfort as there is at present
+among all Christian peoples. We no longer speak with a grand certainty
+as we ought to do. We only offer vague hopes and dubious promises to
+those who thirst for the living waters of salvation and
+immortality,--it is as if we did not feel sure enough of God ourselves
+to make others sure. All this is wrong--wrong! It forebodes heavy
+punishment and disaster. If I were younger, I could express perhaps my
+meaning more clearly,--but as it is, my soul is weighted with
+unutterable thoughts,--I would almost call them warnings,--of some
+threatening evil; . . . and today--only this afternoon--when I sat for
+an hour in the Cathedral yonder and listened to the music of the great
+organ--"
+
+The Archbishop started.
+
+"What did you say?"
+
+The Cardinal repeated his words gently,--
+
+"I said that I sat in the Cathedral and listened to the music of the
+great organ--"
+
+"The great organ!" interrupted the Archbishop,--"You must have been
+dreaming! You could not possibly have heard the great organ,--it is old
+and all out of gear;--it is never used. The only one we have for
+service just now is a much smaller instrument in the left-hand
+choir-chapel,--but no person could have played even on that without the
+key. And the key was unobtainable, as the organist is absent from the
+town to-day."
+
+The Cardinal looked completely bewildered.
+
+"Are you quite sure of this?" he asked falteringly.
+
+"Sure--absolutely sure!" declared the Archbishop with a smile--"No
+doubt you thought you heard music; overwrought nerves often play these
+tricks upon us. And it is owing to this same cause that you are weary
+and dispirited, and that you take such a gloomy view of the social and
+religious outlook. You are evidently out of health and unstrung;--but
+after you have had sufficient rest and change, you will see things in
+quite a different aspect. I will not for a moment believe that you
+could possibly be as unorthodox as your conversation would imply,--it
+would be a total misconception of your true character," and the
+Archbishop laughed softly. "A total misconception," he repeated,--"Why,
+yes, of course it would be! No Cardinal-Archbishop of Holy Mother
+Church could bring such accusations against its ministry as you would
+have suggested, unless he were afflicted by nervous depression, which,
+as we all know, has the uncomfortable effect of creating darkness even
+where all is light. Do you stay long in Rouen?"
+
+"No," replied the Cardinal abstractedly, answering the question
+mechanically though his thoughts were far away--"I leave for Paris
+to-morrow."
+
+"For Paris? And then?"
+
+"I go to Rome with my niece, Angela Sovrani,--she is in Paris awaiting
+my arrival now."
+
+"Ah! You must be very proud of your niece!" murmured the Archbishop
+softly--"She is famous everywhere,--a great artist!--a wonderful
+genius!"
+
+"Angela paints well--yes," said the Cardinal quietly,--"But she has
+still a great deal to learn. And she is unfortunately much more alone
+now than she used to be,--her mother's death last year was a terrible
+blow to her."
+
+"Her mother was your sister?"
+
+"My only sister," answered the Cardinal--"A good, sweet woman!--may her
+soul rest in peace! Her character was never spoilt by the social life
+she was compelled to lead. My brother-in-law, Prince Sovrani, kept open
+house,--and all the gay world of Rome was accustomed to flock thither;
+but now--since he has lost his wife, things have changed very
+much,--sadness has taken the place of mirth,--and Angela is very
+solitary."
+
+"Is she not affianced to the celebrated Florian Varillo?"
+
+A fleeting shadow of pain darkened the Cardinal's clear eyes.
+
+"Yes. But she sees very little of him,--you know the strictness of
+Roman etiquette in such matters. She sees little--and sometimes--so I
+think--knows less. However, I hope all will be well. But my niece is
+over sensitive, brilliantly endowed, and ambitious,--at times I have
+fears for her future."
+
+"Depression again!" declared the Archbishop, rising and preparing to
+take his leave--"Believe me, the world is full of excellence when we
+look upon it with clear eyes;--things are never as bad as they seem. To
+my thinking, you are the last man alive who should indulge in
+melancholy forebodings. You have led a peaceful and happy life, graced
+with the reputation of many good deeds, and you are generally beloved
+by the people of whom you have charge. Then, though celibacy is your
+appointed lot, heaven has given you a niece as dear to you as any child
+of your own could be, who has won a pre-eminent place among the world's
+great artists, and is moreover endowed with beauty and distinction.
+What more can you desire?"
+
+He smiled expansively as he spoke; the Cardinal looked at him
+steadfastly.
+
+"I desire nothing!" he answered--"I never have desired anything! I told
+you before that I consider I have received many more blessings than I
+deserve. It is not any personal grief which at present troubles me,--it
+is something beyond myself. It is a sense of wrong,--an appeal for
+truth,--a cry from those who are lost in the world,--the lost whom the
+Church might have saved!"
+
+"Merely fancy!" said the Archbishop cheerily--"Like the music in the
+Cathedral! Do not permit your imagination to get the better of you in
+such matters! When you return from Rome, I shall be glad to see you if
+you happen to come through Normandy on your way back to your own
+people. I trust you will so far honour me?"
+
+"I know nothing of my future movements," answered the Cardinal
+gently,--"But if I should again visit Rouen, I will certainly let you
+know, and will, if you desire it, accept your friendly hospitality."
+
+With this, the two dignitaries shook hands and the Archbishop took his
+leave. As he picked his way carefully down the rough stairs and along
+the dingy little passage of the Hotel Poitiers, he was met by Jean
+Patoux holding a lighted candle above his head to show him the way.
+
+"It is dark, Monseigneur," said Patoux apologetically.
+
+"It is very dark," agreed Monseigneur, stumbling as he spoke, and
+feeling rather inclined to indulge in very uncanonical language. "It is
+altogether a miserable hole, mon Patoux!"
+
+"It is for poor people only," returned Jean calmly--"And poverty is not
+a crime, Monseigneur."
+
+"No, it is not a crime," said the stately Churchman as he reached the
+door at last, and paused for a moment on the threshold,--a broad smile
+wrinkling up his fat cheeks and making comfortable creases round his
+small eyes--"But it is an inconvenience!"
+
+"Cardinal Bonpre does not say so," observed Patoux.
+
+"Cardinal Bonpre is one of two things--a saint or a fool! Remember
+that, mon Patoux! Bon soir! Benedicite!"
+
+And the Archbishop, still smiling to himself, walked leisurely across
+the square in the direction of his own house, where his supper awaited
+him. The moon had risen, and was clambering slowly up between the two
+tall towers of Notre Dame, her pure silver radiance streaming mockingly
+against the candle Jean Patoux still held in the doorway of his inn,
+and almost extinguishing its flame.
+
+"One of two things--a saint or a fool," murmured Jean with a
+chuckle--"Well!--it is very certain that the Archbishop is neither!"
+
+He turned in, and shut his door as far as it would allow him to do so,
+and went comfortably to bed, where Madame had gone before him. And
+throughout the Hotel Poitiers deep peace and silence reigned. Every one
+in the house slept, save Cardinal Bonpre, who with the Testament before
+him, sat reading and meditating deeply for an hour before retiring to
+rest. A fresh cause of anxiety had come upon him in the idea that
+perhaps his slight indisposition was more serious than he had deemed.
+If, as the Archbishop had said, there could have been no music possible
+in the Cathedral that afternoon, how came it that he had heard such
+solemn and entrancing harmonies? Was his mind affected? Was he in truth
+imagining what did not exist? Were the griefs of the world his own
+distorted view of things? Did the Church faithfully follow the
+beautiful and perfect teachings of Christ after all? He tried to reason
+the question out from a different and more hopeful standpoint, but
+vainly;--the conviction that Christianity was by no means the supreme
+regenerating force, or the vivifying Principle of Human Life which it
+was originally meant to be, was borne in upon him with increasing
+certainty, and the more he read the Gospels, the more he became aware
+that the Church--system as it existed was utterly opposed to Christ's
+own command, and moreover was drifting further and further away from
+Him with every passing year.
+
+"The music in the Cathedral may have been my fancy," he said,--"But the
+discord in the world sounds clear and is NOT imagination. A casuist in
+religion may say 'It was to be';--that heresies and dissensions were
+prophesied by Christ, when He said 'Because iniquity shall abound, the
+love of many shall grow cold';--but this does not excuse the Church
+from the sin of neglect, if any neglects exists. One thing we have
+never seemed to thoroughly understand, and this is that Christ's
+teaching is God's teaching, and that it has not stopped with the
+enunciation of the Gospel. It is going on even now--in every fresh
+discovery of science,--in every new national experience,--in everything
+we can do, or think, or plan, the Divine instruction steadily continues
+through the Divine influence imparted to us when the Godhead became
+man, to show men how they might in turn become gods. This is what we
+forget and what we are always forgetting; so that instead of accepting
+every truth, we quarrel with it and reject it, even as Judaea rejected
+Christ Himself. It is very strange and cruel;--and the world's
+religious perplexities are neither to be wondered at nor blamed,--there
+is just and grave cause for their continuance and increase."
+
+He closed the Testament, and being thoroughly fatigued in body as well
+as mind, he at last retired. Lying down contentedly upon the hard and
+narrow bed which was the best the inn provided, he murmured his usual
+prayer,--"If this should be the sleep of death, Jesus receive my
+soul!"--and remained for a little while with his eyes open, looking at
+the white glory of the moonlight as it poured through his lattice
+window and formed delicate traceries of silver luminance on the bare
+wooden floor. He could just see the dark towers of Notre Dame from
+where he lay,--a black mass in the moonbeams--a monument of
+half-forgotten history--a dream of centuries, hallowed or blasphemed by
+the prayers and aspirations of dead and gone multitudes who had
+appealed to the incarnate God-in-Man before its altars. God-in-Man had
+been made manifest!--how long would, the world have to wait before
+Man-in-God was equally created and declared? For that was evidently
+intended to be the final triumph of the Christian creed.
+
+"We should have gained such a victory long ago," mused Cardinal
+Bonpre--"only that we ourselves have set up stumbling-blocks, and
+rejected God at every step of the way."
+
+Closing his eyes he soon slept; the rays of the moon fell upon his pale
+face and silvery hair like a visible radiant benediction,--and the
+bells of the city chimed the hours loudly and softly, clanging in every
+direction, without waking him from his rest. But slumbering as he was,
+he had no peace,--for in his sleep he was troubled by a strange vision.
+
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+As the terrors of imagined suffering are always worse than actual pain,
+so dreams are frequently more vivid than the reality of life,--that is
+we are sure that life is indeed reality, and not itself a dream within
+a dream. Cardinal Bonpre's sleep was not often disturbed by affrighting
+visions,--his methods of daily living were too healthy and simple, and
+his conscience too clear;--but on this particular night he was visited
+by an impression rather than a dream,--the impression of a lonely, and
+terrifying dreariness, as though the whole world were suddenly emptied
+of life and left like a hollow shell on the shores of time. Gradually
+this first sense of utter and unspeakable loss changed into a startled
+consciousness of fear;--some awful transformation of things familiar
+was about to be consummated;--and he felt the distinct approach of some
+unnameable Horror which was about to convulse and overwhelm all
+mankind. Then in his dream, a great mist rose up before his eyes,--a
+mingling as of sea-fog and sun-flame,--and as this in turn slowly
+cleared,--dispersing itself in serpentine coils of golden-grey
+vapour,--he found himself standing on the edge of a vast sea,
+glittering in a light that was neither of earth nor of heaven, but that
+seemed to be the inward reflection of millions of flashing sword
+blades. And as he stood gazing across the width of the waters, the sky
+above him grew black, and a huge ring of fire rose out of the east,
+instead of the beloved and familiar sun,--fire that spread itself in
+belching torrents of flame upward and downward, and began to absorb in
+its devouring heat the very sea. Then came a sound of many thunders,
+mingled with the roar of rising waters and the turbulence of a great
+whirlwind,--and out of the whirlwind came a Voice saying--"Now is the
+end of all things on the earth,--and the whole world shall be burnt up
+as a dead leaf in a sudden flame! And we will create from out its ashes
+new heavens and a new earth, and we will call forth new beings
+wherewith to people the fairness of our fresh creation,--for the
+present generation of mankind hath rejected God,--and God henceforth
+rejecteth His faithless and unworthy creatures! Wherefore let now this
+one dim light amid the thousand million brighter lights be
+quenched,--let the planet known to all angels as the Sorrowful Star
+fall from its sphere forever,--let the Sun that hath given it warmth
+and nourishment be now its chief Destroyer, and let everything that
+hath life within it, perish utterly and revive no more!"
+
+And Cardinal Felix heard these words of doom. Powerless to move or
+speak, he stood watching the terrible circle of fire, extend and
+expand, till all the visible universe seemed melting in one red furnace
+of flame;--and in himself he felt no hope,--no chance of rescue;--in
+himself he knew that the appalling work of destruction was being
+accomplished with a deadly swiftness that left no time for
+lamentation,--that the nations of the world were as flying straws swept
+into the burning, without space or moment for a parting prayer or
+groan. Tortured by an excruciating agony too great for tears, he
+suddenly found voice, and lifting his face towards the lurid sky he
+cried aloud--
+
+"God of Eternity, stay Thy hand! For one remaining Cause be merciful!
+Doom not Thy creature Man to utter destruction!--but still remember
+that Thou wast born even as he! As helpless, as wronged, as tempted, as
+betrayed, as suffering, as prone to pain and death! Thou hast lived his
+life and endured his sorrows, though in the perfect glory of Thy
+Godhead Thou hast not sinned! Have patience yet, oh Thou great
+Splendour of all worlds! Have patience yet, Thou outraged and
+blasphemed Creator! Break once again Thy silence as of old and speak to
+us!--pity us once again ere Thou slay us utterly,--come to us even as
+Thou earnest in Judaea, and surely we will receive Thee and obey Thee,
+and reject Thy love no more!"
+
+As he thus prayed he was seized with a paralysing fear,--for suddenly
+the red and glowing chaos of fire above him changed into soft skies
+tinged with the exquisite pearl-grey hues of twilight, and he became
+conscious of the approach of a great invisible Presence, whose awful
+unseen beauty overwhelmed him with its sublimity and majesty, causing
+him to forget altogether that he himself existed. And Someone
+spoke,--in grave sweet accents, so soft and close to him that the words
+seemed almost whispered in his ears,--
+
+"Thy prayer is heard,--and once again the silence shall be broken.
+Nevertheless remember that 'the light shineth in darkness and the
+darkness comprehendeth it not'."
+
+Deep silence followed. The mysterious Presence melted as it were into
+space,--and the Cardinal awoke, trembling violently and bathed in a
+cold perspiration. He gazed bewilderedly around him, his mind still
+confused and dazzled by the strong visionary impression of the burning
+heavens and sea,--and he could not for a moment realize where he was.
+Then, after a while, he recognised the humble furniture of the room he
+occupied, and through the diamond-shaped panes of the little lattice
+window, perceived the towers of Notre Dame, now gleaming with a kind of
+rusty silver in the broader radiance of the fully uplifted moon.
+
+"It was a dream," he murmured,--"A dream of the end of the world!" He
+shuddered a little as he thought of the doom pronounced upon the
+earth,--the planet "known to all angels as the Sorrowful Star"--"Let
+the Sun that hath given it warmth and nourishment be now its chief
+Destroyer."
+
+According to modern scientists, such was indeed the precise way in
+which the world was destined to come to an end. And could anything be
+more terrifying than the thought that the glorious Orb, the maker of
+day and generator of all beauty, should be destined to hurl from its
+shining centre death and destruction upon the planet it had from
+creation vivified and warmed! The Vision had shown the devastating ring
+of fire rising from that very quarter of the heavens where the sun
+should have been radiantly beaming,--and as Felix Bonpre dwelt upon the
+picture in his mind, and remembered his own wild prayer to the Eternal,
+a great uneasiness and dread overwhelmed him.
+
+"God's laws can never be altered;" he said aloud--"Every evil deed
+brings its own punishment; and if the world's wickedness becomes too
+great an offence in the eyes of the Almighty, it follows that the world
+must be destroyed. What am I that I should pray against Divine Justice!
+For truly we have had our chance of rescue and salvation;--the
+Way,--the Truth,--and the Life have been given to us through Christ our
+Redeemer; and if we reject Him, we reject all, and we have but
+ourselves to blame."
+
+At that moment a plaintive wailing, as of some human creature in
+distress broke on his ears through the deep silence of the night. He
+listened attentively, and the sorrowful sound was repeated,--a desolate
+yet gentle cry as of some sick and suffering child. Moved by a sudden
+impulse the Cardinal rose, and going to the window looked anxiously
+out, and down into the street below. Not a living creature was to be
+seen. The moonlight spread itself in a vast silver glory over the whole
+width of the square, and the delicate sculpture of the great
+rose-window of the Cathedral, centrally suspended between the two tall
+towers, looked in the fine pale radiance like a giant spider's web
+sparkling with fairy dew. Again--again!--that weary sobbing cry! It
+went to the Cardinal's heart, and stirred him to singular pain and pity.
+
+"Surely it is some lost or starving creature," he said--"Some poor soul
+seeking comfort in a comfortless world." Hastily throwing on his
+garments he left his room, treading cautiously in order not to disturb
+the sleeping household,--and feeling his way down the short, dark
+staircase, he easily reached the door and passed noiselessly out into
+the square. Walking a few steps hurriedly he paused, once more
+listening. The night was intensely calm;--not a cloud crossed the
+star-spangled violet dome of air wherein the moon soared serenely,
+bathing all visible things in a crystalline brilliancy so pure and
+penetrative, that the finest cuttings on the gigantic grey facade of
+Notre Dame could be discerned and outlined as distinctly as though
+every little portion were seen through a magnifying glass. The
+Cardinal's tall attenuated figure, standing alone and almost in the
+centre of the square, cast a long thin black shadow on the glistening
+grey stones,--and his dream-impression of an empty world came back
+forcibly upon him,--a world as empty as a hollow shell! Houses there
+were around him, and streets, and a noble edifice consecrated to the
+worship of God,--nevertheless there was a sense of absolute desertion
+in and through all. Was not the Cathedral itself the mere husk of a
+religion? The seed had dropped out and sunk into the soil,--"among
+thorns" and "stony places" indeed,--and some "by the wayside" to be
+devoured by birds of prey. Darker and heavier grew the cloud of
+depression on the Cardinal's soul,--and more and more passionate became
+the protest which had for a long time been clamouring in him for
+utterance,--the protest of a Churchman against the Church he served! It
+was terrible,--and to a "prince of the Roman Church" hideous and
+unnatural; nevertheless the protest existed, and it had in some
+unaccountable way grown to be more a part of him than he himself
+realized.
+
+"The world is empty because God is leaving it," he said, sorrowfully
+raising his eyes to the tranquil heavens,--"and the joy of existence is
+departing because the Divine and Holy Spirit of things is being
+withdrawn!"
+
+He moved on a few paces,--and once more through the deep stillness the
+little sobbing cry of sorrow was wafted tremulously to his ears. It
+came or seemed to come from the Cathedral, and quickening his steps he
+went thither. The deeply hollowed portal, full of black shadows, at
+first showed nothing but its own massively sculptured
+outlines--then--all at once the Cardinal perceived standing within the
+embrasured darkness, the slight shrinking figure of a child. A boy's
+desolate little figure,--with uplifted hands clasped appealingly and
+laid against the shut Cathedral door, and face hidden and pressed hard
+upon those hands, as though in mute and inconsolable despair. As the
+Cardinal softly drew nearer, a long shuddering sigh from the solitary
+little creature moved his heart anew to pity, and speaking in accents
+of the utmost gentleness he said--
+
+"My poor child, what troubles you? Why are you here all alone, and
+weeping at this late hour? Have you no home?--no parents?"
+
+Slowly the boy turned round, still resting his small delicate hands
+against the oaken door of the Cathedral, and with the tears yet wet
+upon his cheeks, smiled. What a sad face he had!--worn and weary, yet
+beautiful!--what eyes, heavy with the dews of sorrow, yet tender even
+in pain! Startled by the mingled purity and grief of so young a
+countenance, the Cardinal retreated for a moment in amaze,--then
+approaching more closely he repeated his former question with increased
+interest and tenderness--
+
+"Why are you weeping here alone?"
+
+"Because I am left alone to weep," said the boy, answering in a soft
+voice of vibrating and musical melancholy--"For me, the world is empty."
+
+An empty world! His dream-impression of universal desolation and
+desertion came suddenly back upon the prelate's mind, and a sudden
+trembling seized him, though he could discover in himself no cause for
+fear. Anxiously he surveyed the strange and solitary little wayfarer on
+the threshold of the Cathedral, and while he thus looked, the boy said
+wistfully--
+
+"I should have rested here within, but it is closed against me."
+
+"The doors are always locked at night, my child," returned the
+Cardinal, recovering from his momentary stupor and bewilderment, "But I
+can give you shelter. Will you come with me?"
+
+With a half-questioning, half-smiling look of grateful wonder, the boy
+withdrew his hands from their uplifted, supplicating and almost
+protesting attitude against the locked Cathedral-door, and moving out
+of the porch shadows into the wide glory of the moonlight, he
+confronted his interlocutor--
+
+"Will I come with you?" he said--"Nay, but I see you are a Cardinal of
+the Church, and it is I should ask 'will you receive me?' You do not
+know who I am--nor where I came from, and I, alas! may not tell you! I
+am alone; all--all alone,--for no one knows me in the world,--I am
+quite poor and friendless, and have nothing where--with to pay you for
+your kindly shelter--I can only bless you!"
+
+Very simply, very gravely the young boy spoke these words, his delicate
+head uplifted, his face shining in the moon-rays, and his slight,
+childish form erect with a grace which was not born of pride so much as
+of endurance, and again the Cardinal trembled, though he knew not why.
+Yet in his very agitation, the desire he had to persuade the tired
+child to go with him grew stronger and overmastered every other feeling.
+
+"Come then," he said, smiling and extending his hand, "Come, and you
+shall sleep in my room for the remainder of the night, and to-morrow we
+will talk of the future. At present you need repose."
+
+The boy smiled gratefully but said nothing, and the Cardinal, satisfied
+with the mere look of assent walked with his foundling across the
+square and into the Hotel Poitiers. Arrived at his own bed-room, he
+smoothed his couch and settled the pillows carefully with active zeal
+and tenderness. The boy stood silently, looking on.
+
+"Sleep now, my child," said the Cardinal,--"and forget all your
+troubles. Lie down here; no one will disturb you till the morning."
+
+"But you, my lord Cardinal," said the boy--"Are you depriving yourself
+of comfort in order to give it to me? This is not the way of the world!"
+
+"It is MY way," said the Cardinal cheerfully,--"And if the world has
+been unkind to you, my boy, still take courage,--it will not always be
+unjust! Do not trouble yourself concerning me; I shall sleep well on
+the sofa in the next room--indeed, I shall sleep all the better for
+knowing that your tears have ceased, and that for the present at least
+you are safely sheltered."
+
+With a sudden quick movement the boy advanced and caught the Cardinal's
+hands caressingly in his own.
+
+"Oh, are you sure you understand?" he said, his voice growing
+singularly sweet and almost tender as he spoke--"Are you sure that it
+is well for you to shelter me?--I--a stranger,--poor, and with no one
+to speak for me? How do you know what I may be? Shall I not perhaps
+prove ungrateful and wrong your kindness?"
+
+His worn little face upturned, shone in the dingy little room with a
+sudden brightness such as one might imagine would illumine the features
+of an angel, and Felix Bonpre looked down upon him half fascinated, in
+mingled pity and wonder.
+
+"Such results are with God, my child," he said gently--"I do not seek
+your gratitude. It is certainly well for me that I should shelter
+you,--it would be ill indeed if I permitted any living creature to
+suffer for lack of what I could give. Rest here in peace, and remember
+it is for my own pleasure as well as for your good that I desire you to
+sleep well."
+
+"And you do not even ask my name?" said the boy, half smiling and still
+raising his sorrowful deep blue eyes to the Cardinal's face.
+
+"You will tell me that when you please," said Felix, laying one hand
+upon the soft curls that clustered over his foundling's forehead--"I am
+in no wise curious. It is enough for me to know that you are a child
+and alone in the world,--such sorrow makes me your servant."
+
+Gently the boy loosened his clasp of the Cardinal's hands.
+
+"Then I have found a friend!" he said,--"That is very strange!" He
+paused, and the smile that had once before brightened his countenance
+shone again like a veritable flash of sunlight--"You have the right to
+know my name, and if you choose, to call me by it,--it is Manuel."
+
+"Manuel!" echoed the Cardinal--"No more than that?"
+
+"No more than that," replied the boy gravely--"I am one of the world's
+waifs and strays,--one name suffices me."
+
+There followed a brief pause, in which the old man and the child looked
+at each other full and steadfastly, and once again an inexplicable
+nervous trembling seized the Cardinal. Overcoming this with an effort,
+he said softly,--
+
+"Then--Manuel!--good night! Sleep--and Our Lady's blessing be upon you!"
+
+Signing the cross in air he retired, carefully shutting the door and
+leaving his new-found charge to rest. When he was once by himself in
+the next room, however, he made no attempt to sleep,--he merely drew a
+chair to the window and sat down, full of thoughts which utterly
+absorbed him. There was nothing unusual, surely, in his finding a small
+lost boy and giving him a night's lodging?--then why was he so affected
+by it? He could not tell. He fully realized that the plaintive beauty
+of the child had its share in the powerful attraction he felt,--but
+there was something else in the nature of his emotion which he found it
+impossible to define. It was as though some great blankness in his life
+had been suddenly filled;--as if the boy whom he had found solitary and
+weeping within the porch of the Cathedral of Notre Dame, belonged to
+him in some mysterious way and was linked to his life so closely and
+completely as to make parting impossible. But what a fantastic notion!
+Viewed by the light of calm reason, there was nothing in the occurrence
+to give rise to any such sentiment. Here was a poor little wayfarer,
+evidently without parents, home, or friends,--and the Cardinal had
+given him a night's lodging, and to-morrow--yes, to-morrow, he would
+give him food and warm clothing and money,--and perhaps a
+recommendation to the Archbishop in order that he might get a chance of
+free education and employment in Rouen, while proper enquiries were
+being made about him. That was the soberly prosaic and commonplace view
+to take of the matter. The personality of the little fellow was
+intensely winning,--but after all, that had nothing to do with the
+facts of the case. He was a waif and stray, as he himself had said; his
+name, so far as he seemed to know it, was Manuel,--an ordinary name
+enough in France,--and his age might be about twelve,--not more.
+Something could be done for him,--something SHOULD be done for him
+before the Cardinal parted with him. But this idea of "parting" was
+just what seemed so difficult to contemplate! Puzzled beyond measure at
+the strange state of mind in which he found himself, Felix Bonpre went
+over and over again all the events of the day in order,--his arrival in
+Rouen,--his visit to the Cathedral, and the grand music he had heard or
+fancied he heard there,--his experience with the sceptical little
+Patoux children and their mother,--his conversation with the
+Archbishop, in which he had felt much more excitement than he was
+willing to admit,--his dream wherein he had been so painfully impressed
+with a sense of the desertion, emptiness, and end of the world, and
+finally his discovery of the little lonely and apparently forsaken boy,
+thrown despairingly as it were against the closed Cathedral, like a
+frail human wreck cast up from the gulf of the devouring sea. Each
+incident, trivial in itself, yet seemed of particular importance,
+though he could not explain or analyse why it should be so.
+Meditatively he sat and watched the moon sink like a silver bubble
+falling downward in the dark,--the stars vanished one by one,--and a
+faint brown-gold line of suggestive light in the east began the slow
+creation of a yet invisible dawn. Presently, yielding to a vague
+impulse of inexplicable tenderness, he rose softly and went to the
+threshold of the room where his foundling slept. Holding his breath, he
+listened--but there was no sound. Very cautiously and noiselessly he
+opened the door, and looked in,--a delicate half-light came through the
+latticed window and seemed to concentrate itself on the bed where the
+tired wanderer lay. His fine youthful profile was distinctly
+outlined,--the soft bright hair clustered like a halo round his broad
+brows,--and the two small hands were crossed upon his breast, while in
+his sleep he smiled. Always touched by the beauty, innocence and
+helplessness of childhood, something in the aspect of this little lad
+moved the venerable prelate's heart to an unwonted emotion,--and
+looking upon him, he prayed for guidance as to what he should best do
+to rescue so gentle and young a creature from the cruelties of the
+world.
+
+
+
+
+V.
+
+"He has trusted me," said the Cardinal,--"I have found him, and I
+cannot--dare not--forsake him. For the Master says 'Whosoever shall
+receive one such little child in My name receiveth Me'."
+
+The next morning broke fair and calm, and as soon as the Patoux
+household were astir, Cardinal Bonpre sought Madame Patoux in her
+kitchen, and related to her the story of his night's adventure. She
+listened deferentially, but could not refrain from occasional
+exclamations of surprise, mingled with suggestions of warning.
+
+"It is like your good heart, Monseigneur," she said, "to give your own
+bed to a stray child out of the street,--one, too, of whom you know
+nothing,--but alas! how often such goodness is repaid by ingratitude!
+The more charity you show the less thanks you receive,--yes, indeed, it
+is often so!--and it seems as if the Evil One were in it! For look you,
+I myself have never done a kindness yet without getting a cruelty in
+exchange for it."
+
+"That is a sad experience, my daughter," returned the Cardinal
+smiling,--"Nevertheless, it is our duty to go on doing kindnesses, no
+matter what the results to ourselves may be. It is understood--is it
+not? that we are to be misjudged in this world. If we had nothing to
+suffer, what would be the use of exercising such virtues as patience
+and endurance?"
+
+"Ah, Monseigneur, for you it is different," said Madame Patoux shaking
+her head and sighing--"You are like the blessed saints--safe in a niche
+of Holy Church, with Our Lady for ever looking after you. But for poor
+people such as we are--we see the rough side of life, Monseigneur--and
+we know that there is very little goodness about in the world,--and as
+for patience and endurance!--why, no one in these days has the patience
+to endure even the least contradiction! Two men,--aye even
+brothers,--will fight for a word like mongrels quarrelling over a
+bone;--and two women will scream themselves hoarse if one should have a
+lover more than the other--asking your pardon, Monseigneur, for such
+wicked talk! Still, wicked as it may be, it is true--and not all the
+powers of Heaven seem to care about making things better. And for this
+boy,--believe me,--you had better leave him to his own way--for there
+will be no chance of getting such a poor little waif into the school
+unless his father and mother are known, or unless someone will adopt
+him, which is not likely . . . for Rouen is full of misery, and there
+are enough mouths to feed in most families--and . . . mon Dieu!--is
+that the child?"
+
+Thus abruptly she broke off her speech, utterly taken aback as she
+suddenly perceived the little Manuel standing before her. Poorly clad
+in the roughest garments as he was, his grace and plaintive beauty
+moved her heart to quick compassion for his loneliness as he came
+towards the Cardinal, who, extending one hand, drew him gently to his
+side and asked if he had slept well?
+
+"Thanks to your goodness, my lord Cardinal," the boy replied, "I slept
+so well that I thought I was in Heaven! I heard the angels singing in
+my dreams;--yes!--I heard all the music of a happy world, in which
+there never had been known a sin or sorrow!"
+
+He rested his fair head lightly against the Cardinal's arm and smiled.
+Madame Patoux gazed at him in fascinated silence,--gazed and
+gazed,--till she found her eyes suddenly full of tears. Then she turned
+away to hide them,--but not before Cardinal Bonpre had observed her
+emotion.
+
+"Well, good MOTHER" he said with gentle emphasis on the word--"Would
+you have me forsake this child that I have found?"
+
+"No, Monseigneur,--no," said Madame Patoux very softly and
+tremulously--"It is almost as if he were a little lost Angel sent to
+comfort you."
+
+A curious thrill went through the Cardinal. An angel to comfort him! He
+looked down at Manuel who still clung caressingly to his arm, and who
+met his earnest scrutiny with a sweet candid smile.
+
+"Where did you come from, Manuel?" asked Bonpre suddenly.
+
+"I cannot tell you," the boy answered, straightly, yet simply.
+
+The Cardinal paused a moment, his keen penetrating eyes dwelling kindly
+on the noble young face beside him.
+
+"You do not wish to tell me,--is that so?" he pursued.
+
+"Yes," said Manuel quietly--"I do not wish to tell you. And if, because
+of this, you regret your kindness to me, my lord Cardinal, I will go
+away at once and trouble you no more."
+
+But at these words the Cardinal felt such a sharp consciousness of pain
+and loss that his nerves ached with positive fear.
+
+"Nay, nay, my child," he said anxiously--"I cannot let you go. It shall
+be as you please,--I will not think that you could do yourself or me a
+wrong by concealing what would be right for you to tell. It is true
+that you are alone in the world?"
+
+"Quite, quite alone!" answered Manuel, a faint shadow darkening the
+serenity of his eyes--"No one was ever more alone than I!"
+
+Madame Patoux drew nearer and listened.
+
+"And there is no person living who has the right to claim you?"
+
+"None!"
+
+"And is it not strange, Monseigneur," murmured Madame Patoux at this
+juncture--"The little lad does not speak as if he were ignorant! It is
+as though he had been well taught and carefully nurtured."
+
+Manuel's deep eyes dwelt upon her with a meditative sweetness.
+
+"I have taught myself;" he said simply--"Not out of books, perhaps, but
+out of nature. The trees and rivers, the flowers and birds have talked
+to me and explained many things;--I have learned all I know from what
+God has told me."
+
+His voice was so gentle and tender that Madame Patoux was infinitely
+touched by its soft plaintiveness.
+
+"Poor child!" she murmured,--"He has no doubt been wandering through
+the country, without a soul to help him. Alas, that troubles should
+begin for one so young! Perhaps he does not even know a prayer!"
+
+"Oh yes!" said Manuel quickly--"Prayer is like thought,--God is so good
+that it is only natural to thank and praise Him. Is it not so?"
+
+"It should be natural, my boy," answered the Cardinal slowly and with a
+slight accent of melancholy,--"But for many of us in these days I fear
+it is more natural still to forget than to remember. Too often we take
+gifts and ignore the giver. But come now and breakfast in my room;--for
+the present you shall remain with me, and I will see what can best be
+done for your future welfare."
+
+And turning to Madame Patoux he added smilingly--"You, my daughter,
+with children of your own to care for, will no longer blame me for my
+interest in this child, who is without protection in a somewhat rough
+world. We of the Church dare not 'offend one of these little ones'."
+
+"Ah, Monseigneur!" murmured Madame,--"If all in the Church were like
+you, some poor folks would believe in God more willingly. But when
+people are starving and miserable, it is easy to understand that often
+they will curse the priests and even religion itself, for making such a
+mock of them as to keep on telling them about the joys of heaven, when
+they are tormented to the very day of their death on earth, and are
+left without hope or rescue of any kind--"
+
+But the Cardinal had disappeared with his young charge and Madame's
+speech was lost upon him. She had therefore to content herself with
+relating the story of "Monseigneur's foundling" to her husband, who
+just then came into the kitchen to take his breakfast before starting
+off to work in his market-garden. He listened with interest and
+attention.
+
+"A boy is always a trouble," he said sententiously--"And it is likely
+that so Monseigneur will find it. How old would the child be?"
+
+"About twelve, I should say," answered Madame--"But beautiful as a
+little angel, Jean!"
+
+"That's a pity!" and Patoux shook his head ominously--"Tis bad enough
+when a girl is beautiful,--but a boy!--Well, well! Monseigneur is a
+wise man, and a saint they say,--he knows best,--but I fear he has
+taken a burden upon himself which he will very soon regret! What dost
+thou think of it, petite?"
+
+Madame hesitated a moment before replying.
+
+"Truly, I do not know what to think," she answered--"For myself, I have
+not spoken to the child. I have seen him,--yes!--and at the sight of
+him a something in my throat rose up and choked me as it were,--and
+stopped me from saying a rough word. Such a lonely gentle lad!--one
+could not be harsh with him, and yet--"
+
+"Yet! Oh, yes, I know!" said Patoux, finishing his coffee at a gulp and
+smiling,--"Women will always be women,--and a handsome face in girl or
+boy is enough to make fools of them all. Where are the children? Are
+they gone to school?"
+
+"Yes--they went before the Cardinal was up. 'Tis a Saturday, and they
+will be back early,--they are going to bring little Fabien Doucet to
+Monseigneur."
+
+"What for?" enquired Patoux, his round eyes opening widely in amazement.
+
+"Oh, for a strange fancy! That he may bless the child and pray Our Lady
+to cure him of his lameness. It was Babette's whim. I told her the
+Cardinal was a saint,--and she said,--well! she said she would never
+believe it unless he worked a miracle! The wicked mischief that girl
+is!--as bad as Henri, who puts a doubt on everything!"
+
+"'Tis the school," said Jean gloomily--"I must speak to Pere Laurent."
+
+"Truly that would be well," said Madame--"He may explain what we
+cannot. All the same, you may be sure the children WILL bring Fabien
+Doucet to Monseigneur;--they have made up their minds about it,--and if
+the little miserable's lameness gets no better, we shall have work
+enough in future to make the saints respected!"
+
+Patoux muttered something inaudible, and went his way. Life was in his
+opinion, a very excellent thing,--nevertheless there were a few details
+about it which occasionally troubled him, and one of these details was
+decidedly the "national education" question. It struck him as
+altogether remarkable that the State should force him to send his
+children to school whether he liked it or no; and moreover that the
+system of instruction at the said school should be totally opposed to
+his own ideas. He would have certainly wished his son to learn to read
+and write, and then to have been trained as a thorough florist and
+gardener;--while for his daughter he also desired reading and writing
+as a matter of course, and then a complete education in cooking and
+domestic economy, so that she might be a useful and efficient wife and
+mother when the proper time for such duties came. Astronomy he felt
+they could both do without, and most of the "physical sciences."
+Religion he considered an absolute necessity, and this was the very
+thing that was totally omitted from the national course of education.
+He was well aware that there are countless numbers of unhappy people
+nowadays who despise religion and mock at the very idea of a God. Every
+day he saw certain works exposed for sale on the out-of-door bookstalls
+which in their very titles proclaimed the hideous tone of blasphemy
+which in France is gradually becoming universal,--but this did not
+affect his own sense of what was right and just. He was a very plain
+common man, but he held holy things in reverence, and instinctively
+felt that, if the world were in truth a bad place, it was likely to
+become much worse if all faith in God were taken out of it. And when he
+reached his plot of ground that morning, and set to work as usual, he
+was, for a non-reflective man, very much absorbed in thought. His heavy
+tramping feet over the soil startled some little brown birds from their
+hidden nests, and sent them flying to and fro through the clear air
+uttering sharp chirrups of terror,--and, leaning on his spade, he
+paused and looked at them meditatively.
+
+"Everything is afraid," he said,--"Birds, beasts, and men,--all are
+afraid of something and cannot tell what it is that frightens them. It
+seems hard sometimes that there should be so much trouble and struggle
+just to live--however, the good God knows best,--and if we could not
+think and hope and believe He knew best, we might just as well light up
+a charcoal fire, shut all the doors and windows, and say 'Bon jour! Bon
+jour, Monsieur le bon Dieu!--for if YOU do not know YOUR business, it
+is evident we do not know ours, and therefore 'tis best for both our
+sakes to make an end of sheer Stupidity!'"
+
+He chuckled at his own reasoning, and moistening his hands vigorously,
+seized his spade and began to bank up a ridge of celery, singing "Bon
+jour, Monsieur le bon Dieu!" under his breath without the slightest
+idea of irreverence. And looking up at the bright sky occasionally, he
+wished he had seen the stray boy rescued from the streets by Cardinal
+Bonpre.
+
+"That he will be a trouble, there is no doubt," he said as he turned
+and patted the rich dark earth--"Never was there a boy born yet into
+the world that was not a trouble except our Lord, and even in His case
+His own people did not know what to make of Him!"
+
+Meantime, while Jean Patoux dug in his garden, and sang and
+soliloquized, his two children, Henri and Babette, their school hours
+being ended, had run off to the market, and were talking vivaciously
+with a big brown sturdy woman, who was selling poultry at a stall,
+under a very large patched red umbrella. She was Martine Doucet,
+reported to have the worst temper and most vixenish tongue in all the
+town, though there were some who said her sourness of humour only arose
+from the hardships of her life, and the many troubles she had been
+fated to endure. Her husband, a fine handsome man, earning good weekly
+wages as a stone-mason, had been killed by a fall from a ladder, while
+engaged in helping to build one of the new houses on the Boulevards,
+and her only child Fabien, a boy of ten had, when a baby, tumbled from
+the cart in which his mother was taking her poultry to market, and
+though no injury was apparent at the time, had, from the effects of the
+fall, grown into a poor little twisted mite of humanity with a bent
+spine, and one useless leg which hung limply from his body, while he
+could scarcely hobble about on the other, even with the aid of a
+crutch. He had a soft, pretty, plaintive face of his own, the little
+Fabien, and very gentle ways,--but he was sensitively conscious of his
+misfortune, and in his own small secret soul he was always praying that
+he might die while he was yet a child, and not grow up to be a burden
+to his mother. Martine, however, adored him; and it was through her
+intense love for this child of hers that she had, in a strange vengeful
+sort of mood abandoned God, and flung an open and atheistical defiance
+in the face of her confessor, who, missing her at mass, had ventured to
+call upon her and seriously reproach her for neglecting the duties of
+her religion. Martine had whirled round upon him,--a veritable storm in
+petticoats.
+
+"Religion!" she cried--"Oh--he! What good has it done for ME, if you
+please! When I said my prayers night and morning, went to mass and
+confession, and told my rosary every Mary-Feast, what happened? Was not
+my man killed and my child crippled? And then,--(not to lose faith--)
+did I not give the saints every chance of behaving themselves? For my
+child's sake did I not earn good money and pay it to the Church in
+special masses that he might be cured of his lameness? And Novenas in
+plenty, and candles in plenty to the Virgin, and fastings of my own and
+penitences? And is the child not as lame as ever? Look at him!--the
+dear angel!--with never an evil thought or a wicked way,--and will you
+try to make me believe there is a good God, when He will not help a
+poor little creature like that, to be happy, though He is prayed to
+night and morning for it! No--no! Churches are kept up for priests to
+make a fat living out of,--but there is never a God in them that I can
+see;--and as for the Christ, who had only to be asked in order to heal
+the sick, there is not so much as a ghost of Him anywhere! If what you
+priests tell us were true, poor souls such as I am, would get comfort
+and help in our sorrows, but it is all a lie!--the whole thing!--and
+when we are in trouble, we have got to bear it as best we can, without
+so much as a kind word from our neighbours, let alone any pity from the
+saints. Go to mass again? Not I!--nor to confession either!--and no
+more of my earnings will click into your great brass collection plate,
+mon reverend! Ah no!--I have been a foolish woman indeed, to trust so
+long in a God who for all my tears and prayers never gives me a sign or
+a hope of an answer,--and though I suppose this wretched world of ours
+was made by somebody, whoever it is that has done it is a cruel
+creature at best, so _I_ say,--without as much good feeling as there is
+in the heart of an ordinary man, and without the sense of the man
+either! For who that thinks twice about it would make a world where
+everything is only born to die?--and for no other use at all! Bah! It
+is sheer folly and wickedness to talk to me of a God!--a God, if there
+were one, would surely be far above torturing the creatures He has
+made, all for nothing!"
+
+And the priest who heard this blasphemous and savage tirade on the part
+of Martine Doucet, retreated from her in amazement and horror, and
+presently gave out that she was possessed of a devil, and was unfit to
+be admitted to the Holy Sacrament. Whereat, when she heard of it,
+Martine laughed loudly and ferociously.
+
+"Look you!--what a charitable creature a priest is!" she cried--"If you
+don't do the things he considers exactly right and fitting, he tells
+your neighbours that the devil has got you!--and so little does he care
+to pick you out of the clutches of this same devil, that he refuses you
+the Sacrament, though THAT is said to drive away Satan by the mere
+touch of it! But wait till I ASK to have the Sacrament given to me!--it
+will be time enough then to refuse it! Many a fat chicken of my stock
+has the reverend father had as a free gift to boil in his soup maigre!"
+and again she laughed angrily--"But no more of them does he get to
+comfort his stomach while doing penance for his soul!--the hypocrite!
+He must find another silly woman to cheat with his stories of a good
+God who never does anything but kill and curse us every one!--he has
+had all that he will ever get out of Martine Doucet!"
+
+It was to this redoubtable virago that Henri and Babette had betaken
+themselves in the market place directly school was over. She always
+held the same stall in the same position on market days,--and she sat
+under her red umbrella on a rough wooden bench, knitting rapidly, now
+keeping an eye on her little lame son, coiled up in a piece of matting
+beside her, and anon surveying her stock-in-trade of ducks and geese
+and fowls, which were heaped on her counter, their wrung necks drooping
+limply from the board, and their yellow feet tied helplessly together
+and shining like bits of dull gold in the warm light of the September
+sun. She listened with an impassive countenance while Babette poured
+out her story of the great Cardinal,--the Cardinal Felix Bonpre, whom
+people said was a saint,--how he had come unexpectedly to stay two
+nights at the Hotel Poitiers,--how "petite maman" had declared he was
+so good that even angels might visit him,--how kind and gentle and
+grand he seemed,--"Yes," said Babette somewhat eagerly, "there was no
+doubt that he LOOKED good,--and we have told him all about Fabien and
+he has promised to bless him and ask Our Lord to cure his lameness."
+
+"Well, and of what use is that, mignonne?" demanded Martine, clicking
+her knitting-needles violently and stooping over her work to wink away
+the sudden tears that had risen in her bold brown eyes at Babette's
+enthusiastic desire to benefit her afflicted child.--"Asking our Lord
+is poor business,--you may ask and ask, but you never get answered!"
+
+Babette hung her curly brown head despondingly, and looked appealingly
+at her brother. Now Henri was a decided cynic;--but his sister
+exercised a weird fascination over him,--a sort of power to command
+which he always felt more or less constrained to obey. He stared
+solemnly at Martine, and then at the little Fabien, who, half rising
+from his mat, had listened with a visibly painful interest to Babette's
+story.
+
+"I think you might let us take Fabien and see if a Cardinal CAN do
+anything," he said with a kind of judicial air, as of one who, though
+considering the case hopeless, had no objection to try a last desperate
+remedy. "This one is a very old man, and he must know a good deal. He
+could not do any harm. And I am sure Babette would like to find out if
+there is any use at all in a Cardinal. I should like it too. You see we
+went into Notre Dame last night,--Babette and I,--and everything was
+dark,--all the candles were out at Our Lady's statue--and we had only
+ten centimes between us. And the candles are ten centimes each. So we
+could only light one. But we lit that one, and said an Ave for Fabien.
+And the candle was all by itself in the Cathedral. And now I think we
+ought to take him to the Cardinal."
+
+Martine shook her head, pursed up her lips, and knitted more violently
+than ever.
+
+"It is all no use--no use!" she muttered--"There is no God,--or if
+there is, He must be deaf as well as blind!"
+
+But here suddenly the weak plaintive voice of Fabien himself piped out--
+
+"Oh, mother, let me go!"
+
+Martine looked down at him.
+
+"Let thee go? To see the Cardinal? Why he is nought but an old man,
+child, as helpless as any of us. What dost thou think he can do for
+thee?"
+
+"Nothing!" and the boy clambered up on his crutch, and stood
+appealingly before his mother, his fair curls blowing back in the
+breeze,--"But I SHOULD like to see him. Oh, do let me go!"
+
+Babette caught him by the hand.
+
+"Yes, oh yes, Martine!" she exclaimed--"Let him come with us!"
+
+Martine hesitated a moment longer, but she could never altogether
+resist an imploring look in her boy's eyes, or refuse any request he
+made of her,--and gradually the hard lines of her mouth relaxed into a
+half smile. Babette at once perceived this, and eagerly accepted it as
+a sign that she had gained her point.
+
+"Come, Fabien!" she exclaimed delightedly--"Thy mother says yes! We
+will not be long gone, Martine! And perhaps we will bring him home
+quite well!"
+
+Martine shook her head sorrowfully, and paused for a while in her
+knitting to watch the three children crossing the market-place
+together, Henri supporting her little son on one side, Babette on the
+other, both carefully aiding his slow and halting movements over the
+rough cobbles of the uneven pavement. Then as they all turned a corner
+and disappeared, she sighed, and a couple of bright tears splashed down
+on her knitting. But the next moment her eyes were as bold and keen and
+defiant as ever while she stood up to attend to two or three customers
+who just then approached her stall, and her voice was as shrill and
+sharp as any woman's voice could be in the noisy business of driving a
+bargain. Having disposed of three or four fat geese and fowls at a good
+profit, she chinked and counted the money in her apron pockets, hummed
+a tune, and looked up at the genial sky with an expression of disfavour.
+
+"Oh, yes, 'tis a fine day!" she muttered,--"And the heavens look as if
+the saints lived in them;--but by and by the clouds will come, and the
+cold!--the sleet, the snow, the frost and the bitterness of
+winter!--and honest folk will starve while thieves make a good
+living!--that is the way the wise God arranges things in this world."
+
+She gave a short laugh of scorn, and resumed the clicking of her
+needles, not raising her eyes from her work even when her neighbour,
+the old woman who sold vegetables at the next stall, ventured to
+address her.
+
+"Where is thy unfortunate boy gone to, Martine?" she enquired,--"Is it
+wise to let him be with the Patoux children? They are strong and quick
+and full of mischief,--they might do him fresh injury in play without
+meaning it."
+
+"I will trust them," answered Martine curtly,--"They have taken him to
+see a Cardinal."
+
+"A Cardinal!" and the old woman craned her withered neck forward in
+amazement and began to laugh feebly,--"Nom de Jesus! That is strange!
+What does the Cardinal want with him?"
+
+"Nothing," said Martine gruffly--"It seems that he is an old man who is
+kind to children, and the girl Babette has a fancy to get his blessing
+for my Fabien,--that is all."
+
+"And that is little enough," responded the old vegetable-vendor, still
+laughing, or rather chuckling hoarsely--"A blessing is not worth much
+nowadays, is it Martine? It never puts an extra ounce of meat in the
+pot-au-feu,--and yet it is all one gets out of the priests for all the
+prayers and the praise. Last time I went to confession I accused myself
+of the sin of envy. I said 'Look here, my father, I am a widow and very
+old; and I have rheumatism in all my bones, and I have only a bit of
+matting to sleep on at home, and if I have a bad day with the market I
+can buy no food. And there is a woman living near me who has a warm
+house, with a stove in it,--and blankets to cover her, and a bit of
+money put by, and I envy her her blankets and her stove and her house
+and her money. Is that a sin?' And he said it was a sin; but that he
+would absolve me from it if I said ten Paters and ten Aves before Our
+Lady of Bon-Secours. And then he gave me his blessing,--but no blankets
+and no stove and no money. And I have not said ten Paters and Aves yet,
+because my bones have ached too much all the week for me to walk up the
+hill to Bon-Secours. And the blessing has been no use to me at all."
+
+"Nor is it likely to be!" scoffed Martine--"I thought you had given up
+all that Church-nonsense long ago."
+
+"Nay--nay--not altogether,"--murmured the old woman timidly--"I am very
+old,--and one never knows--there may be truth in some of it. It is the
+burning and the roasting in hell that I think of,--you know that is
+very likely to happen, Martine!--because you see, in this life we have
+nothing but trouble,--so whoever made us must like to see us
+suffering;--it must be a pleasure to God, and so it is sure to go on
+and on always. And I am afraid!--and if a candle now and then to St.
+Joseph would help matters, I am not the one to grudge it,--it is better
+to burn a candle than burn one's self!"
+
+Martine laughed loudly, but made no answer. She could not waste her
+time arguing against the ridiculous superstitions of an old creature
+who was so steeped in ignorance as to think that a votive candle could
+rescue her soul from a possible hell. She went on knitting in silence
+till a sudden shadow came between her and the sunlight, and a girl's
+voice, harsh, yet with a certain broken sweetness in it, said--
+
+"A fine morning's killing, aye! All their necks wrung,--all dead birds!
+Once they could fly--fly and swim! Fly and swim! All dead now--and sold
+cheap in the open market!"
+
+A shrill laugh finished this outburst, but Martine knew who it was that
+spoke, and maintained her equanimity.
+
+"Is that you again, Marguerite?" she said, not unkindly--"You will tire
+yourself to death wandering about the streets all day."
+
+Marguerite Valmond, "la folle" as she was called by the townsfolk,
+shook her head and smiled cunningly. She was a tall girl, with black
+hair disordered and falling loosely about her pale face,--her eyes were
+dark and lustrous, but wild, and with a hunted expression in them,--and
+her dress was composed of the strangest remnants of oddly assorted
+materials and colours pinned about her without any order or symmetry,
+the very idea of decent clothing being hardly considered, as her bosom
+was half exposed and her legs were bare. She wore no head-covering, and
+her whole aspect was that of one who had suddenly awakened from a
+hideous dream and was striving to forget its horrors.
+
+"I shall never be tired!" she said--"If I could be tired I should
+sleep,--but I never sleep! I am looking for HIM, you know!--it was at
+the fair I lost him--you remember the great fair? And when I find him I
+shall kill him! It is quite easy to kill--you take a sharp glittering
+thing, so!" and she snatched up a knife that lay on Martine's
+counter--"And you plunge it--so!" and she struck it down with singular
+fury through the breast of one of the "dead birds" which were Martine's
+stock-in-trade. Then she threw the knife on the ground--rubbed her
+hands together, tossed her head, and laughed again--"That is how I
+shall do it when I meet him!"
+
+Martine said nothing. She simply removed the one stabbed bird from
+among the others, and setting it aside, picked up the knife from the
+ground and went on knitting as calmly as ever.
+
+"I am going to see the Archbishop," proceeded Marguerite, tossing back
+her dishevelled locks and making one or two fantastic dance-steps as
+she spoke--"The great Archbishop of this wonderful city of Rouen! I
+want to ask him how it happened that God made men. It was a mistake
+which He must be sorry for! The Archbishop knows everything;--he will
+tell me about it. Ah!--what a beautiful mistake is the Archbishop
+himself!--and how soon women find it out! Bon jour, Martine!"
+
+"Bon jour, Marguerite!" responded Martine quietly.
+
+Singing to herself, the crazed girl sauntered off. Several of the
+market women looked after her.
+
+"She killed her child, they say," muttered the old
+vegetable-seller--"But no one knows--"
+
+"Sh--sh--sh!" hissed Martine angrily--"What one does not know one
+should not say. Mayhap there never was a child at all. Whatever the
+wrong was, she has suffered for it;--and if the man who led her astray
+ever comes nigh her, his life is not worth a centime."
+
+"Rough justice!" said one of the market porters, who had just paused
+close by to light his pipe.
+
+"Aye, rough justice!" echoed Martine--"When justice is not given to the
+people, the people take it for themselves! And if a man deals ill by a
+woman, he has murdered her as surely as if he had put a knife through
+her;--and 'tis but even payment when he gets the knife into himself.
+Things in this life are too easy for men and too hard for women; men
+make the laws for their own convenience, and never a thought of us at
+all in the making. They are a selfish lot!"
+
+The porter laughed carelessly, and having lit his pipe to his
+satisfaction went his way.
+
+A great many more customers now came to Martine's stall, and for
+upwards of an hour there was shrill argument and driving of bargains
+till she had pretty well cleared her counter of all its stock. Then she
+sat down again and looked to right and left of the market-place for any
+sign of the Patoux children returning with her little son, but there
+was not a glimpse of them anywhere.
+
+"I wonder what they are doing!" she thought--"And I wonder what sort of
+a Cardinal it is they have taken the child to see! These great princes
+of the Church care nothing for the poor,--the very Pope allows half
+Italy to starve while he shuts himself up with his treasures in the
+Vatican;--what should a great Cardinal care for my poor little Fabien!
+If the stories of the Christ were true, and one could only take the
+child to Him, then indeed there might be a chance of cure!--but it is
+all a lie,--and the worst of the lie is that it would give us all so
+much comfort and happiness if it were only true! It is like holding out
+a rope to a drowning man and snatching it away again. And when the rope
+goes, the sooner one sinks under the waves the better!"
+
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+The Cardinal was still in his room alone with the boy Manuel, when
+Madame Patoux, standing at her door under the waving tendrils of the
+"creeping jenny" and shading her eyes from the radiance of the sun, saw
+her children approaching with Fabien Doucet between them.
+
+"Little wretches that they are!" she murmured--"Once let them get an
+idea into their heads and nothing will knock it out! Now I shall have
+to tell Monseigneur that they are here,--what an impertinence it
+seems!--and yet he is so gentle, and has such a good heart that perhaps
+he will not mind . . ."
+
+Here she broke off her soliloquy as the children came up, Babette
+eagerly demanding to know where the Cardinal was. Madame Patoux set her
+arms akimbo and surveyed the little group of three half-pityingly, half
+derisively.
+
+"The Cardinal has not left his room since breakfast," she answered--"He
+is playing Providence already to a poor lad lost in the streets, and
+for that matter lost in the world, without father or mother to look
+after him,--he was found in Notre Dame last night,--"
+
+"Why, mother," interrupted Henri--"how could a boy get into Notre Dame
+last night? When Babette and I went there, nobody was in the church at
+all,--and we left one candle burning all alone in the darkness,--and
+when we came out the Suisse swore at us for having gone in, and then
+locked the door."
+
+"Well, if one must be so exact, the boy was not found actually in Notre
+Dame, obstinate child," returned his mother impatiently--"It happened
+at midnight,--the good Cardinal heard someone crying and went to see
+who it was. And he found a poor boy outside the Cathedral weeping as if
+his heart were breaking, and leaning his head against the hard door for
+a pillow. And he brought him back and gave him his own bed to sleep
+in;--and the lad is with him now."
+
+Little Fabien Doucet, leaning on his crutch, looked up with interest.
+
+"Is he lame like me?" he asked.
+
+"No, child," replied Madame compassionately--"He is straight and
+strong. In truth a very pretty boy."
+
+Fabien sighed. Babette made a dash forward.
+
+"I will go and see him!" she said--"And I will call Monseigneur."
+
+"Babette! How dare you! Babette!"
+
+But Babette had scurried defiantly past her mother, and breathless with
+a sense of excitement and disobedience intermingled, had burst into the
+Cardinal's room without knocking. There on the threshold she
+paused,--somewhat afraid at her own boldness,--and startled too at the
+sight of Manuel, who was seated near the window opposite the Cardinal,
+and who turned his deep blue eyes upon her with a look of enquiry. The
+Cardinal himself rose and turned to greet her, and as the wilful little
+maid met his encouraging glance and noted the benign sweetness of his
+expression she trembled,--and losing nerve, began to cry.
+
+"Monseigneur . . . Monseigneur . . ." she stammered.
+
+"Yes, my child,--what is it?" said the Cardinal kindly--"Do not be
+afraid,--I am at your service. You have brought the little friend you
+spoke to me of yesterday?"
+
+Babette peeped shyly at him through her tears, and drooping her head,
+answered with a somewhat smothered "Yes."
+
+"That is well,--I will go to him at once,"--and the Cardinal paused a
+moment looking at Manuel, who as if responding to his unuttered wish,
+rose and approached him--"And you, Manuel--you will also come. You see,
+my child," went on the good prelate addressing Babette, the while he
+laid a gently caressing hand on her hair--"Another little friend has
+come to me who is also very sad,--and though he is not crippled or ill,
+he is all alone in the world, which is, for one so young, a great
+hardship. You must be sorry for him too, as well as for your own poor
+playmate."
+
+But Babette was seized with an extraordinary timidity, and had much ado
+to keep back the tears that rose in her throat and threatened to break
+out in a burst of convulsive sobbing. She did not know in the least
+what was the matter with her,--she was only conscious of an immense
+confusion and shyness which were quite new to her ordinarily bold and
+careless nature. Manuel's face frightened yet fascinated her; he
+looked, she thought, like the beautiful angel of the famous stained
+glass "Annunciation" window in the crumbling old church of St. Maclou.
+She dared not speak to him,--she could only steal furtive glances at
+him from under the curling length of her dark tear-wet lashes,--and
+when the Cardinal took her by the hand and descended the staircase with
+her to the passage where the crippled Fabien waited, she could not
+forbear glancing back every now and then over her shoulder at the
+slight, supple, almost aerial figure of the boy, who, noiselessly, and
+with a light gliding step, followed. And now Madame Patoux came
+forward;--a bulky, anxious figure of gesticulation and apology.
+
+"Alas, Monseigneur!" she began plaintively--"It is too shameful that
+your quiet should be disturbed in this way, but if you could only know
+the obstinacy of these children! Ah yes!--if you knew all, you would
+pity their parents!--you would indeed! And this is the unhappy little
+creature they have brought to you, Monseigneur,--a sad sight
+truly!--and afflicted sorely by the will of God,--though one could
+hardly say that God was anywhere about when he fell, poor baby, from
+his mother's cart and twisted his body awry,--one would rather think
+the devil was in the business, asking your pardon, Monseigneur; for
+surely the turning of a human creature into a useless lump has little
+of good, or divine kindness in it! Now make thy best bow to the
+Cardinal," went on Madame with a gasp for breath in her voluble speech,
+addressing the little cripple--"And it is a pity them hast no time to
+confess thy sins and take the Sacrament before so holy a man lay hands
+on thee!"
+
+But at these words Cardinal Bonpre turned to her with a reproving
+gesture.
+
+"I pray you do not call me holy, my daughter," he said earnestly, the
+old shadows of pain and prote gathering in his eyes, "Nothing can make
+me more sorrowful than to hear such an epithet applied to one who is so
+full of errors and sins as myself. Try to look upon me just as I
+am,--merely an old man, nearing the grave, with nothing of merit in me
+beyond the desire to serve our Lord and obey His commands,--a desire
+which is far stronger than the practical force to obey it. Much that I
+would do I cannot; and in much that I attempt I fail. Come to me, my
+child."
+
+Here, interrupting himself, he bent down, and putting his arms tenderly
+round Fabien, lifted him bodily, crutch and all, and carried him into
+the next room, and as he did so, the young Manuel glided in before him,
+and stood beside his chair, his blue eyes shining with a soft and eager
+light of interest, and a little smile lifting the delicate upper curve
+of his lips as he looked on. Fabien meanwhile, perched on the
+Cardinal's knee, and held close in the Cardinal's arms, was not at all
+frightened,--he simply sat, contented, gazing up confidingly at the
+pale venerable face above him. Henri and Babette, having as they
+considered, got their way, stayed at the door half afraid to enter, and
+their mother peered over their heads at the little scene in mingled awe
+and curiosity.
+
+"My poor child," then said the Cardinal gently--"I want you to
+understand quite clearly how sorry I am for you, and how willingly I
+would do anything in the world to make you a strong, well, and happy
+boy. But you must not fancy that I can cure you. I told your little
+friends yesterday that I was not a saint, such as you read about in
+story-books,--and that I could not work miracles, because I am not
+worthy to be so filled with the Divine Spirit as to heal with a touch
+like the better servants of our Blessed Lord. Nevertheless I firmly
+believe that if God saw that it was good for you to be strong and well,
+He would find ways to make you so. Sometimes sickness and sorrow are
+sent to us for our advantage,--sometimes even death comes to us for our
+larger benefit, though we may not understand how it is so till
+afterwards. But in Heaven everything will be made clear; and even our
+griefs will be turned into joys,--do you understand?"
+
+"Yes," murmured Fabien gravely, but two large tears welled up in his
+plaintive eyes as the faint glimmer of hope he had encouraged as to the
+possibility of his being miraculously cured by the touch of a saintly
+Cardinal, expired in the lonely darkness of his little afflicted soul.
+
+"That is well," continued the Cardinal kindly--"And now, since it is so
+difficult for you to kneel, you shall stay where you are in my
+arms,--so!"--and he set him on his knee in a position of even greater
+comfort than before, "You shall simply shut your eyes, and clasp your
+little hands together as I put them here,"--and as he spoke he crossed
+the child's hands on his silver crucifix-"And I will ask our Lord to
+come and make you well,--for of myself I can do nothing."
+
+At these words Henri and Babette glanced at each other questioningly,
+and then as if simultaneously moved by some inexplicable emotion,
+dropped on their knees,--their mother, too stout and unwieldy to do
+this with either noiselessness or satisfaction to herself, was
+contented to bend her head as low as she could get it. Manuel remained
+standing. Leaning against the Cardinal's chair, his eyes fixed on the
+crippled Fabien, he had the aspect of a young Angel of compassion,
+whose sole immortal desire was to lift the burden of sorrow and pain
+from the lives of suffering humanity. And after a minute or two passed
+in silent meditation, the Cardinal laid his hands tenderly on Fabien's
+fair curly head and prayed aloud.
+
+"Oh merciful Christ! Most pitying and gentle Redeemer!--to Whom in the
+days of Thy sacred life on earth, the sick and suffering and lame and
+blind were brought, and never sent away unhealed or uncomforted;
+consider, we beseech Thee, the sufferings of this Thy little child,
+deprived of all the joys which Thou hast made so sweet for those who
+are strong and straight in their youth, and who have no ailment to
+depress their courage or to quench the ardour of their aspiring souls.
+Look compassionately upon him, oh gentle King and Master of all such
+children!--and even as Thou wert a child Thyself, be pleased to heal
+him of his sad infirmity. For, if Thou wilt, Thou canst make this bent
+body straight and these withered muscles strong,--from death itself
+Thou canst ordain life, and nothing is impossible to Thee! But above
+all things, gracious Saviour, we do pray Thee so to lift and strengthen
+this child's soul, that if it is destined he should still be called
+upon to bear his present pain and trouble, grant to him such perfection
+in his inward spirit that he may prove worthy to be counted among Thy
+angels in the bright Hereafter. To Thy care, and to Thy comfort, and to
+Thy healing, great Master, we commend him, trusting him entirely to Thy
+mercy, with perfect resignation to Thy Divine Will. For the sake and
+memory of Thy most holy childhood mercifully help and bless this child!
+Amen!"
+
+A deep silence ensued. Only the slow ticking of the big old-fashioned
+clock in Madame Patoux's kitchen, which was next door to the room they
+were all in, could be distinctly heard. Henri and Babette were the
+first to stir. They got up from their knees, brushed the dust of the
+floor from their clothes, and stared curiously at Fabien. Was a miracle
+going to happen? Fabien, however--still resting against the Cardinal's
+breast, with his meagre little hands clasped tight on the Cardinal's
+crucifix, kept his eyes solemnly shut and gave no sign, till the
+Cardinal himself gently moved him and set him down. Then he glanced
+around him bewilderingly, tottered, and would have fallen had he not
+been given his little crutch for support. Very pathetic was the smile
+which then quivered on his pale lips,--very doleful was the shake of
+his head as he prepared to hobble away.
+
+"Thank you very much, Monseigneur," he murmured gently--"I felt almost
+cured while you were praying,--but I am afraid it is no use! You see
+there are so many miserable people in the world,--many cripples,
+too,--I am not the only one. Our Lord must have enough to do if He is
+asked to heal them all! But I am sure you have done everything you can
+for me, and I am grateful to you, Monseigneur. Good-bye!"
+
+"Good-bye, my child!" and the Cardinal, strongly moved by the sight of
+the little helpless twisted figure, and painfully impressed too by the
+sense of his own entire powerlessness to remove the cause of the
+trouble, bent down and kissed him--"Believe me, if the giving of my own
+life could make you strong, you should have that life willingly. May
+God bless and heal you!"
+
+At that moment Manuel moved from the place he had kept near the
+Cardinal's chair. With a light, eager step forward, he went up to the
+little cripple, and putting his arms round him kissed him on the
+forehead.
+
+"Good-bye, dear little brother!" he said smiling--"Do not be sad! Have
+patience! In all the universe, among all the millions and millions of
+worlds, there is never a pure and unselfish prayer that the great good
+God does not answer! Be sure of that! Take courage, dear little
+brother! You will soon be well!"
+
+Fabien stared, half amazed, at the gentle young face that shone upon
+him with such an expression of hope and tenderness.
+
+"You are very kind," he said--"And you are just a boy yourself,--so you
+can perhaps guess how it must feel not to be like other boys who can
+run and leap and walk for miles and miles through the fields and the
+green shady forests where the birds sing,--and where there is so much
+to see and think about,--when one is lame one cannot go far you
+know--and then there is my mother--she is very sad about me,--and it
+will be hard for her if I live to be a man and still can do nothing to
+help her . . ."
+
+His weak voice broke, and two large tears filled his eyes and brimmed
+over, trickling slowly down his pale cheeks. Manuel took his hand and
+pressed it encouragingly.
+
+"Do not cry!" he said gently--"Believe in what I say--that you will
+soon be quite well. The Cardinal has prayed for you as only good men
+CAN pray,--without one selfish thought, in faith and deep
+humility,--such prayers draw angels down! Be patient--be brave! Believe
+in the best and the best will come!"
+
+His words rang out with a sweet convincing clearness, and even Cardinal
+Bonpre felt a sense of comfort as he listened. The little cripple
+smiled through his tears.
+
+"Oh, yes," he murmured--"I WILL hope and I WILL believe! I am always
+sure God is near us, though my mother thinks He must be very far away.
+Yes,--I will be as brave as I can. You are very good to me,--I know you
+understand just how I feel, and I thank you very much. I hope you will
+be happy yourself some day. Good-bye!" Then, turning to Henri and
+Babette he asked, "Shall we go now?"
+
+Henri's brows were drawn together in a dark frown.
+
+"I suppose so," he replied--"I suppose there's nothing more to be
+done?" This, with a somewhat sarcastic air of inquiry directed at the
+Cardinal, who met his bold bright glance, mildly and half
+compassionately.
+
+"Nothing more my child"--he answered--"Did you expect a miracle? I told
+you from the first that I was no saint,--I can do no good unless our
+Lord wills it."
+
+"The Pope believes in miracles"--said Henri, flushing as he spoke with
+the heat of a sudden angry emotion--"But only those that are performed
+on his own behalf! HE thinks that God's chief business is to look after
+HIM!"
+
+A silence ensued,--whether of horror or embarrassment could hardly be
+determined. The Cardinal said nothing,--Babette trembled a
+little,--what a dreadful boy Henri really was, she thought!--Madame
+Patoux shut up her eyes in horror, crossed herself devoutly as against
+some evil spirit, and was about to speak, when Henri, nothing daunted,
+threw himself into the breach again, and turned with a fiery vehemence
+of appeal towards the young and thoughtful-looking Manuel.
+
+"It's just as I say!" he declared hotly--"The Pope is taken as much
+care of as if he were a peach wrapped in wadding! Was Christ taken care
+of? No,--He suffered all sorts of hardships and at last was crucified!
+The Pope shuts himself up in the Vatican with millions and millions of
+money's worth, while thousands of people around him in Italy alone, are
+starving and miserable. Christ would not allow such a thing. Christ
+said 'Sell half that thou hast and give to the poor'--now the Pope
+doesn't sell half, nor a quarter, nor a bit of a quarter! He takes all
+he can get and keeps it! And yet God is supposed to work miracles for
+an old man like that!--Oh I know all about it! Boys read the newspapers
+as well as grown men!"
+
+"Henri!" gasped Madame Patoux, extending her fat arm and hand with a
+solemn gesture of reproach--"Henri, thou art mad . . . wicked . . ."
+
+But Henri went on unheedingly, still addressing Manuel.
+
+"Now you are a boy, and I daresay you can read and think,--you are
+about my age I suppose. And you are left all alone in the world, with
+nobody to care for you,--well, do you think that is well-arranged?--And
+do you think there is any sense in believing in a God who does such a
+lot of cruel things? And when He won't help us ever so little? How can
+people be good if they keep on praying and praying, and hoping and
+hoping, and working and working--and yet nothing comes of it all but
+trouble and pain and loss . . ." He stopped for sheer lack of breath to
+go on.
+
+Manuel looked at him quietly, full in the eyes.
+
+"Yes, it is hard!" he said--"Very hard! But it is not God who does any
+cruel thing. God is Love,--and the Spirit of Love cannot be cruel. It
+is the people of the world themselves,--the people who injure each
+other in thought, word and deed,--and who have no spirit of love in
+them,--these invite sorrow and pain, and rush upon misfortune. Then
+they blame God for it! Ah, it is easy to blame God!--so much easier
+than to blame one's self! And if you ask me if it is well for those who
+suffer cruel things to still believe in God, I say yes, I do think it
+well,--for it is the only chance they have of finding the right way of
+life after much wandering in the wrong."
+
+His sweet voice fell on the silence like a soft chime, and Henri, for
+no particular reason that he could give, felt suddenly abashed.
+Cardinal Bonpre listened to the words of this strange foundling with a
+singular emotion,--an emotion too deep to find any outlet in speech.
+Babette raised her brown trustful eyes, and timidly ventured to put in
+her opinion.
+
+"Yes"--she said--"I am sure that is true. You see Henri"--with a wise
+glance at her brother--"you see it is always the same,--when anyone
+suffers something unfortunate, there is certain to be some cause for
+it. Now everybody says that if poor Martine had not put Fabien in the
+cart to save herself the trouble of holding him on her knee, he would
+not have tumbled out and been hurt. That was the beginning of it. And
+that was not God's fault. Come Fabien!--we'll take you back now."
+
+At this, Madame Patoux started from her stricken condition of horrified
+dumbness into speech and action.
+
+"Ah yes, it is indeed time!" she exclaimed--"Enough trouble has been
+given, I am sure, to Monseigneur, and if such a prayer as his does not
+reach Heaven, why then there is no Heaven at all, and it is no good
+bothering ourselves about it. And what things have been said by my
+son!--MY son!--against the Holy Father! Ah, mon Dieu! The wickedness of
+it!--The horror! And if thou learnest such blasphemy from newspapers,
+Henri, thou shalt not read them--"
+
+"Who is to prevent me?" demanded Henri, his eyes sparkling defiantly.
+
+"Hush--hush my child!" interposed the Cardinal quietly "Nothing indeed
+can prevent thee,--no one can hinder thee from walking the world
+according to thine own will and direction. Thou must take good and evil
+as they come, and strive thy best to discern between them--and if the
+love of God cannot help thee--well!--perchance the love of thy mother
+may!"
+
+There was a pause. Henri's head drooped, and quick tears filled his
+eyes. He said nothing further, but turned to assist Babette in guiding
+the little Fabien's hesitating steps as he hobbled from the room. The
+emotional Madame Patoux choked back a rising sob.
+
+"God bless you Monseigneur!" she murmured--"Henri will not forget those
+words--the lad has a hasty temper, but a good heart--yes, believe me--a
+good heart--"
+
+"That I am sure of"--responded the Cardinal--"He is quick and
+intelligent--and seeks to know the truth. If he could feel an asserted
+'truth' to be really true, I am confident he would frame his life upon
+it, and be a good, brave man. Yes--he is a clever lad,--and our modern
+system of education pushes the brain to a precocity exceeding bodily
+years,--his impatience and anger only come from puzzling over what he
+finds it difficult to understand. It is all a puzzle to him--all a
+puzzle!--as it is to most of us!" He sighed--then added in a lighter
+tone--"I shall want nothing more at your kindly hands, my daughter. I
+have decided to leave Rouen for Paris to-day and will take an early
+afternoon train. Manuel"--and he hesitated a moment--"Manuel will go
+with me."
+
+Madame was scarcely surprised at this announcement. She had indeed
+expected it. She glanced at Manuel himself to see how he accepted this
+sudden change in his fortunes, but he was entirely absorbed in watching
+Henri and Babette lead their little crippled friend away. After all,
+there was nothing to be said. The Cardinal was a free agent,--he had a
+perfect right to befriend a homeless boy and give him sustenance and
+protection if he chose. He would make, thought Madame, a perfect
+acolyte, and would look like a young angel in his little white
+surplice. And so the good woman, deciding in her own mind that such was
+the simple destiny for which the Cardinal intended him, smiled,
+murmured something deferential and approving, and hastened from the
+room, to prepare for Monseigneur, whether he asked for it or not, a
+dish of her most excellent soup, to strengthen and support him before
+starting on his journey. And ere four o'clock had chimed from all the
+towers of the city, the Hotel Poitiers was deprived of its honoured
+guest,--the Cardinal, accompanied by his foundling, had departed, and
+the black, smoky, snake-like train had rushed with them through the
+smiling peace of the Normandy pasture-lands on towards the brilliant
+"city enthroned in wickedness," which sparkles like a jewel on the
+borders of the Seine as gloriously as ever Babylon sparkled on the
+shores of Euphrates. As godless, as hollow to the very core of
+rottenness, as her sister of ancient days, wanton "Lutetia"
+shines,--with the ghastly and unnatural lustre of phosphorescent
+luminance arising from old graves--and as divinely determined as the
+destruction of the old-time city splendid, is the approaching downfall
+of the modern capital. To the inhabitants of Rouen, the very name of
+Paris carries with it a kind of awe,--it excites various emotions of
+wonder, admiration, longing, curiosity and even fear,--for Paris is a
+witches' cauldron in which Republicanism, Imperialism, Royalism,
+Communism and Socialism, are all thrown by the Fates to seethe together
+in a hellish broth of conflicting elements--and the smoke of it ascends
+in reeking blasphemy to Heaven. Not from its church-altars does the cry
+of "How long, O Lord, how long!" ascend nowadays,--for its priests are
+more skilled in the use of the witty bon-mot or the polished sneer than
+in the power of the prophet's appeal,--it is from the Courts of Science
+that the warning note of terror sounds,--the cold vast courts where
+reasoning thinkers wander, and learn, and deeply meditate, knowing that
+all their researches but go to prove the fact that apart from all creed
+and all forms of creed, Crime carries Punishment as surely as the seed
+is born with the flower,--thinkers who are fully aware that not all the
+forces of all mankind, working with herculean insistence to support a
+Lie, can drive back the storm-cloud of the wrath of that "Unknown
+Quantity" called God, whose thunders do most terribly declare the truth
+"with power and great glory." "How long O Lord, how long!" Not long, we
+think, O friends!--not long now shall we wait for the Divine
+Pronouncement of the End. Hints of it are in the air,--signs and
+portents of it are about us in our almost terrific discoveries of the
+invisible forces of Light and Sound,--we are not given such tremendous
+powers to play with in our puny fashion for the convenience of making
+our brief lives easier to live and more interesting,--no, there is some
+deeper reason,--one, which in our heedless way of dancing over our own
+Earth-grave, we never dream of. And we go on making our little plans,
+building our ships and making loud brags of our armies, and our skill,
+and our prowess both by land and sea, and our amazing importance to
+ourselves and to others,--which importance has reached such a height at
+the present day as to make of us a veritable spectacle for Olympian
+laughter,--and we draw out our little sums of life from the Eternal
+exchequer, and add them up and try to obtain the highest interest for
+them, always forgetting to calculate that in making up the sum total,
+that mysterious "Unknown Quantity" will have to come in, and (un less
+it has been taken into due counting from the first) will be a figure
+likely to swamp the whole banking business. And in this particular
+phase of speculation and exchange, Paris has long been playing a losing
+game. So steadily has she lost, in honour, in prestige, in faith, in
+morals, in justice, in honesty and in cleanly living, that it does not
+seem possible she can ever retrieve herself. Her men are
+dissolute,--her women shameless--her youth of both sexes depraved,--her
+laws are corrupt--her arts de cadent--her religion dead. What next can
+be expected of her?--or rather to what extent will Destiny permit her
+to go before the bolt of destruction falls? "Thus far, and no farther"
+has ever been the Principle of Nature--and Paris has almost touched the
+"Thus far."
+
+Sitting quietly in her tidy kitchen near the open window, after the
+Cardinal's departure, Madame Patoux knitted busily, her thoughts flying
+faster than her glittering needles. A certain vague impression of
+solemnity had been left on her mind by the events of the morning,--she
+could not quite reason out the why or the wherefore of it--and yet--it
+was a fact that after Monseigneur had gone, she had, when entering the
+rooms he had vacated, felt a singular sense of awe.
+
+"Almost as if one were in the Cathedral at the ringing of the
+'Sanctus'" she murmured under her breath, glancing about timidly at the
+plain furniture and bare walls. And after putting everything in order,
+she closed and locked the doors jealously, with a determination that
+she would not let those rooms to the first chance-comer for a long
+time,--no, though she might have to lose money by her refusal. And now,
+as she sat actively employed in knitting socks for Henri, whom she
+could see sitting with his sister outside on the bench under the house
+porch, reading or pretending to read, she began to wonder what opinion
+those two young miscreants had formed in their minds respecting the
+Cardinal, and also what they thought of the boy who had been taken so
+suddenly under his protection. She was almost tempted to call Henri and
+ask him a few questions on the subject,--but she had learnt to value
+peace and quietness when she could secure those rare blessings at the
+hands of her children, and when they were employed with a book and
+visibly out of mischief she thought it wisest to leave them alone. And
+so she left them in the present instance, pushing her window open as
+she sat and knitted, for the air was warm and balmy, and the long rays
+of sunshine streaming across the square were of the hue of a ripe
+nectarine just gathered, and the delicate mouldings and traceries and
+statues on the porch of the Cathedral appeared like so many twinings of
+grey gossamer web glistening in a haze of gold. Now and then neighbours
+passed, and nodded or called a greeting which Madame Patoux answered
+cheerily, still knitting vivaciously; and the long shafts of sunshine
+grew longer, casting deeper shadows as the quarters chimed. All at once
+there was a cry,--a woman's figure came rushing precipitately across
+the square,--Madame Patoux sprang up, and her children ran out of the
+porch as they recognised Martine Doucet.
+
+"Martine! Martine! What is it!" they all cried simultaneously.
+
+Martine, breathless, dishevelled, laughing and sobbing alternately,
+tried to speak, but could only gesticulate and throw up her hands in a
+kind of ecstasy, but whether of despair or joy could not be guessed.
+Madame Patoux shook her by the arm.
+
+"Martine!--speak--what is it!"
+
+Martine made a violent effort.
+
+"Fabien!--Fabien--" she gasped, flinging herself to and fro and still
+sobbing and laughing.
+
+"Mon Dieu!" cried Madame in horror. "Is the child dead?"
+
+"No, no!--" and Martine again tossed her arms aloft in a kind of
+frenzy. "No--but look you!--there IS a God! Yes!--we thought He was an
+invention of the priests--but no--He is a real God after all!--Oh mes
+enfants!" and she tried to grasp the amazed Henri and Babette in her
+arms, "You are two of His angels!--you took my boy to the Cardinal--"
+
+The children glanced at each other.
+
+"Yes--yes!" they murmured breathlessly.
+
+"Well! and see what has happened!--See!--Here comes Fabien--!"
+
+And as she spoke exultantly with an excitement that seemed to inspire
+every nerve of her body, a little figure came running lightly towards
+them,--the light strong figure of a boy with fair curls flying in the
+wind, and a face in which the large, grey, astonished eyes flashed with
+an almost divine joy.
+
+"Mother!--Mother!" he cried.
+
+Madame Patoux felt as though the heavens had suddenly opened to let the
+angels down. Was this Fabien? Fabien, who had hobbled painfully upon
+crutches all his life, and had left her house in his usual condition an
+hour or so ago?--This straight-limbed child, running with the graceful
+and easy movement of a creature who had never known a day's pain?
+
+"Fabien, is it thou?" almost screamed Henri, "Speak, is it thou?"
+
+"It is I" said Fabien, and he stopped, panting for breath,--then threw
+his arms round his mother's neck and faced them,--"It is I--strong and
+well!--thanks to God and the prayers of the Cardinal!"
+
+For a moment there was a dead silence,--a silence of stupefied
+amazement unbroken save by the joyful weeping of Martine. Then suddenly
+a deep-toned bell rang from the topmost tower of Notre Dame--and in the
+flame-red of the falling sun the doves that make their homes among the
+pinnacles of the great Cathedral, rose floating in cloudy circles
+towards the sky. One bell--and then another--yet another!--
+
+"The Angelus!" cried Babette dropping on her knees and folding her
+hands, "The Angelus!--Mother--Martine--Henri!--Fabien!--the Angelus!"--
+
+Down they all knelt, a devotional group, in the porch through which the
+good Cardinal had so lately passed, and the bells chimed sweetly and
+melodiously as Fabien reverently repeated the Angelic Salutation amid
+responses made with tears and thanksgiving, and neighbours and townfolk
+hearing of the miracle came hastening to the Hotel Poitiers to enquire
+into its truth, and pausing as they saw the cluster of kneeling figures
+in the porch instinctively and without question knelt also,--then as
+the news spread, group after group came running and gathering together,
+and dropping on their knees amazed and awe-struck, till the broad
+Square showed but one black mass of a worshipping congregation under
+the roseate sky, their voices joining in unison with the clear accents
+of one little happy child; while behind them rose the towers of Notre
+Dame, and over their heads the white doves flew and the bells of the
+Angelus rang. And the sun dropped slowly into the west, crimson and
+glorious like the shining rim of a Sacramental Cup held out and then
+drawn slowly back again by angel hands within the Veil of Heaven.
+
+
+
+
+VII.
+
+Meanwhile, unconscious of the miracle his prayer had wrought, Cardinal
+Bonpre and his young charge Manuel, arrived in Paris, and drove from
+the station direct to a house situated near the Bois du Boulogne, where
+the Cardinal's niece, Angela Sovrani, only daughter of Prince Sovrani,
+and herself famous throughout Europe as a painter of the highest
+promise, had a suite of rooms and studio, reserved for her occasional
+visits to the French capital. Angela Sovrani was a rare type of her
+sex,--unlike any other woman in the world, so those who knew her best
+were wont to declare. Without being actually beautiful, according to
+the accepted lines and canons of physical perfection, she created
+around her an effect of beauty, which was dazzling and exciting to a
+singular degree,--people who came once within the charmed circle of her
+influence could never forget her, and always spoke of her afterwards as
+a creature apart;--a "woman of genius,--yes!"--they said, "But
+something more even than that." And this "something more," was just the
+inexplicable part of her which governed her whole being, and rendered
+her so indescribably attractive. And she was not without beauty--or
+perhaps it should be termed loveliness rather,--of an exquisitely
+suggestive kind, which provoked the beholder into questioning where and
+how the glamour of it fell. In her eyes, perhaps, the secret lay,--they
+were violet-grey in hue, and drowsy-lidded, with long lashes that swept
+the delicate pale cheeks in a dark golden fringe of shadow, through
+which the sparkle of vision gleamed,--now warningly, now tenderly,--and
+anon, these same half-shut and deep fringed lids would open wide,
+letting the full brilliance of the soul behind the eyes pour forth its
+luminance, in flashes of such lightning-like clearness and compelling
+force, that it was impossible not to recognise something higher than
+mere woman in the dazzle of that spiritual glory. In figure she was
+wonderfully slight,--so slight indeed that she suggested a delicate
+willow-withe such as can be bent and curved with one hand--yet this
+slightness stood her in good stead, for being united with extreme
+suppleness, it gave her a grace of movement resembling that of some
+skimming mountain bird or sea-swallow, which flies with amazing
+swiftness yet seeming slowness. Angela never moved quickly,--no one had
+ever seen her in what is termed a "rush," or a vulgar hurry. She did
+everything she had to do without haste, without noise, without
+announcement or assertion of any kind;--and all that she did was done
+as perfectly as her ability could warrant. And that ability was very
+great indeed, and displayed itself in small details as well as large
+attempts. Whether she merely twisted her golden-brown hair into a knot,
+or tied a few flowers together and fastened them on her dress with a
+pearl pin, either thing was perfectly done--without a false line or a
+discordant hue. Her face, form, voice and colouring were like a chord
+of music, harmonious,--and hence the impression of satisfaction and
+composure her presence always gave. In herself she was a creature of
+remarkable temperament and character;--true womanly in every delicate
+sentiment, fancy and feeling, but with something of the man-hero in her
+scorn of petty aims, her delight in noble deeds, her courage, her
+ambition, her devotion to duty and her unflinching sense of honour.
+Full of rare perceptions and instinctive knowledge of persons and
+motives, she could only be deceived and blinded where her deepest
+affections were concerned, and there she could certainly be fooled and
+duped as completely as the wisest of us all. Looking at her now as she
+stood awaiting her uncle's arrival in the drawing-room of her "suite,"
+the windows of which faced the Bois, she expressed to the air and
+surroundings the personality of a thoughtful, charming young woman,--no
+more. Her black silk gown, cut simply in the prevailing mode of
+definitely outlining the figure from throat to hips, and then springing
+out in pliant folds of trailing drapery, had nothing remarkable about
+it save its Parisian perfection of fit,--the pale "Gloire de France"
+rose that rested lightly amongst the old lace at her neck, pinned, yet
+looking as though it had dropped there merely out of a languid desire
+to escape from further growing, was her only ornament. Her hair, full
+of curious lights and shades running from brown to gold and gold to
+brown again, in a rippling uncertain fashion, clustered thickly over
+her brow and was caught back at the sides in a loose twist after the
+style of the Greek vestals,--and her fine, small white hands and taper
+fingers, so skilled in the use of the artist's brush, looked too tiny
+and delicate to be of any service save to receive the kisses of a
+lover's lips,--or to be raised, folded pure and calm, in a child-like
+appeal to Heaven. Certainly in her fragile appearance she expressed
+nothing save indefinable charm--no one, studying her physiognomy, would
+have accredited her with genius, power, and the large conceptions of a
+Murillo or a Raphael;--yet within the small head lay a marvellous
+brain--and the delicate body was possessed by a spirit of amazing
+potency to conjure with. While she watched for the first glimpse of the
+carriage which was to bring her uncle the Cardinal, whom she loved with
+a rare and tender devotion, her thoughts were occupied with a letter
+she had received that morning from Rome,--a letter "writ in choice
+Italian," which though brief, contained for her some drops of the
+essence of all the world's sweetness, and was worded thus--
+
+"MY OWN LOVE!--A century seems to have passed away since you left Rome.
+The hours move slowly without you--they are days,--even years!--but I
+feel your spirit is always with me! Absence for those who love, is not
+absence after all! To the soul, time is nothing,--space is
+nothing,--and my true and passionate love for you makes an invisible
+bridge, over which my thoughts run and fly to your sweet presence,
+carrying their delicious burden of a thousand kisses!--a thousand
+embraces and blessings to the Angela and angel of my life! From her
+devoted lover,
+
+"Florian."
+
+Her devoted lover, Florian! Yes; Florian Varillo--her comrade in art,
+was her lover,--a genius himself, who had recognised HER genius and who
+bowed before it, conquered and subdued! Florian, the creator of
+exquisitely delicate landscapes and seascapes, with nymphs and cupids
+and nereids and sirens all daintily portrayed therein,--pictures so
+ethereal and warm and bright in colour that they were called by some of
+the best Italian critics, the "amoretti" of painting,--he, this
+wonderful man, had caught her soul and heart by storm, in a few sudden,
+quickly-whispered words one night when the moon was at the full,
+hanging high over the gardens of the Pincio,--and, proud of her
+security in the love she had won, Angela had risen by leaps and bounds
+to a magnificence of creative effort and attainment so far beyond him,
+that old and wise persons, skilled in the wicked ways of the world,
+would sometimes discourse among themselves in dubious fashion thus: "Is
+it possible that he is not jealous? He must surely see that her work is
+superior to his own!" And others would answer, "Oh no! No man was ever
+known to admit, even in thought, that a woman can do better things in
+art than himself! If a masculine creature draws a picture on a
+paving-stone he will assure himself in his own Ego, that it is really
+much more meritorious simply as 'man's work' than the last triumph of a
+Rosa Bonheur. Besides, you have to remember that in this case the man
+is the woman's lover--he could soon kill her genius if he chose. He has
+simply to desert her,--such an easy thing!--so often done!--and she
+will paint no more. Women are all alike,--they rest on love,--when that
+fails, then everything fails, and they drop into old age without a
+groan." And then perhaps a stray cynic would say, "But Angela Sovrani
+need not depend on one lover surely?--" and he would get for answer,
+"No, she need not--but it so happens that she does,"--which to
+everybody seemed extraordinary, more particularly in Italy, where
+morals are so lax, that a woman has only to be seen walking alone in
+the public gardens or streets with one of the opposite sex, and her
+reputation is gone for ever. It is no use to explain that the man in
+question is her father, her brother or her uncle,--he simply could not
+be. He is THE man, the one inevitable. Few Italians (in Italy) believe
+in the chastity of English women,--their reasons for doubt being simply
+because they see the fair and free ones going to parties, theatres and
+other places of amusement with their friends of the other sex in
+perfect ease and confidence. And in the case of Angela Sovrani, though
+she was affianced to Florian Varillo with her father's consent,
+(reluctantly obtained,) and the knowledge of all the Roman world of
+society, she saw very little of him,--and that little, never alone.
+Thus it was very sweet to receive such consoling words as those she had
+had from him that day--"Time is nothing,--space is nothing,--and my
+true and passionate love for you makes an invisible bridge over which
+my thoughts run and fly to your sweet presence!" The letter lay warm in
+her bosom just under the "Gloire de France" rose; she pressed it
+tenderly with her little hand now simply for the childish pleasure of
+hearing the paper rustle, and she smiled dreamily.
+
+"Florian," she murmured half aloud!--"MY Florian!" And she recalled
+certain lines of verse he had written to her,--for most Italians write
+verse as easily as they eat maccaroni;--and there are countless rhymes
+to "amor" in the dulcet Dante-tongue, whereas our rough English can
+only supply for the word "love" some three or four similar
+sounds,--which is perhaps a fortunate thing. Angela spoke English and
+French as easily and fluently as her native Tuscan, and had read the
+most notable books in all three languages, so she was well aware that
+of all kinds of human speech in the world there is none so adapted for
+making love and generally telling lies in, as the "lingua Toscana in
+bocca Romana." And this particular "lingua" Florian possessed in
+fullest perfection of sweetness, so far as making love was
+concerned;--of the telling of lies he was, according to Angela's
+estimate of him, most nobly ignorant. She had not many idle moments,
+however, for meditation on her love matters, or for dreamy study of the
+delicate beginnings of the autumnal tints on the trees of the Bois, for
+the carriage she had been awaiting soon made its appearance, and
+bowling rapidly down the road drew up sharply at the door. She had just
+time to perceive that her uncle had not arrived alone, when he
+entered,--and with a pretty grace and reverence for his holy calling,
+she dropped on one knee before him to receive his benediction, which he
+gave by laying a hand on her soft hair and signing the cross on her
+brow. After which he raised her and looked at her fondly.
+
+"My dear child!"--he said, tenderly,--and again "My dear child!"
+
+Then he turned towards Manuel, who had followed him and was now
+standing quietly on the threshold of the apartment.
+
+"Angela, this is one of our Lord's 'little ones,'" he said,--"He is
+alone in the world, and I have made myself his guardian and protector
+for the present. You will be kind to him--yes--as kind as if you were
+his sister, will you not?--for we are all one family in the sight of
+Heaven, and sorrow and loneliness and want can but strengthen the love
+which should knit us all together."
+
+Raising her candid eyes, and fixing them on Manuel, Angela smiled. The
+thoughtful face and pathetic expression of the boy greatly attracted
+her, and in her heart she secretly wondered where her uncle had found
+so intelligent and inspired-looking a creature. But one of her
+UNfeminine attributes was a certain lack of curiosity concerning other
+people's affairs, and an almost fastidious dislike of asking questions
+on matters which did not closely concern her. So she contented herself
+with giving him that smile of hers which in itself expressed all
+sweetness, and saying gently,--
+
+"You are very welcome! You must try to feel that wherever my uncle
+is,--that is 'home'."
+
+"I have felt that from the first,"--replied Manuel in his soft musical
+voice, "I was all alone when my lord the Cardinal found me,--but with
+him the world seems full of friends."
+
+Angela looked at him still more attentively; and the fascination of his
+presence became intensified. She would have liked to continue the
+conversation, but her uncle was fatigued by his journey, and expressed
+the desire for an hour's rest. She therefore summoned a servant to show
+him to the rooms prepared for his reception, whither he went, Manuel
+attending him,--and when, after a little while, Angela followed to see
+that all was arranged suitably for his comfort, she found that he had
+retired to his bed-chamber, and that just outside his door in a little
+ante-room adjoining, his "waif and stray" was seated, reading. There
+was something indescribable about the boy even in this reposeful
+attitude of study,--and Angela observed him for a minute or two,
+herself unseen. His face reminded her of one of Fra Angelico's
+seraphs,--the same broad brow, deep eyes and sensitive lips, which
+seemed to suggest the utterance of wondrous speech or melodious
+song,--the same golden hair swept back in rich clusters,--the same
+eager, inspired, yet controlled expression. A curious fluttering of her
+heart disturbed the girl as she looked--an indefinable dread--a kind of
+wonder, that almost touched on superstitious awe. Manuel himself,
+apparently unconscious of her observation, went on reading,--his whole
+attitude expressing that he was guarding the door to deter anyone from
+breaking in upon the Cardinal's rest, and Angela at last turned away
+reluctantly, questioning herself as to the cause of the strange
+uneasiness which thrilled her mind.
+
+"It is foolish, of course,"--she murmured, "but I feel just as if there
+were a supernatural presence in the house, . . . however,--I always do
+have that impression with Uncle Felix, for he is so good and
+noble-minded,--almost a saint, as everyone says--but to-day there is
+something else--something quite unusual--"
+
+She re-entered the drawing-room, moving slowly with an abstracted air,
+and did not at once perceive a visitor in the room,--a portly person in
+clerical dress, with a somewhat large head and strongly marked
+features,--a notable character of the time in Paris, known as the Abbe
+Vergniaud. He had seated himself in a low fauteuil, and was turning
+over the pages of the month's "Revue de Deux Mondes", humming a little
+tune under his breath as he did so,--but he rose when he saw Angela,
+and advanced smilingly to greet her as she stopped short, with a little
+startled exclamation of surprise at the sight of him.
+
+"Forgive me" he said, with an expressively apologetic gesture,--"Have I
+come at an inopportune moment? I saw your uncle arrive, and I was
+extremely anxious to see him on a little confidential matter--I
+ventured to persuade your servant to let me enter--"
+
+"No apologies are necessary, Monsieur l'Abbe" said Angela, quickly, "My
+uncle Felix is indeed here, but he is tired with his journey and is
+resting--"
+
+"Yes, I understand!" And Monsieur l'Abbe, showing no intention to take
+his leave on account of the Cardinal's non-presence, bowed low over the
+extended hand of "the Sovrani" as she was sometimes called in the world
+of art, where her name was a bone for envious dogs-in-the-manger to
+fight over--"But if I might wait a little while--"
+
+"Your business with my uncle is important?" questioned Angela with
+slightly knitted brows.
+
+"My dear child, all business is important,"--declared the Abbe, with a
+smile which spread the light of a certain satirical benevolence all
+over his plump clean-shaven face, "or so we think--we who consider that
+we have any business,--which is of course a foolish idea,--but one that
+is universal to human nature. We all imagine we are busy--which is so
+curious of us! Will you sit here?--Permit me!" And he dexterously
+arranged a couple of cushions in an arm-chair and placed it near the
+window. Angela half-reluctantly seated herself, watching the Abbe under
+the shadow of her long lashes as he sat down opposite to her.
+"Yes,--the emmets, the flies, the worms and the men, are all of one
+equality in the absurd belief that they can do things--things that will
+last. Their persistent self-credulity is astonishing,--considering the
+advance the world has made in science, and the overwhelming proofs we
+are always getting of the fact that we are only One of an eternal
+procession of many mighty civilizations, all of which have been swept
+away with everything they have ever learnt, into silence,--so that
+really all we do, or try to do, amounts to doing nothing in the end!"
+
+"That is your creed, I know," said Angela Sovrani with a faint sigh,
+"But it is a depressing and a wretched one."
+
+"I do not find it so," responded the Abbe, complacently looking at a
+fine diamond ring that glittered on the little finger of his plump
+white hand, "It is a creed which impresses upon us the virtue of being
+happy during the present moment, no matter what the next may bring. Let
+each man enjoy himself according to his temperament and capabilities.
+Do not impose bounds upon him--give him his liberty. Let him alone. Do
+not try to bamboozle him with the idea that there is a God looking
+after him. So will he be spared much disappointment and useless
+blasphemy. If he makes his own affairs unpleasant in this world', he
+will not be able to lift up his hands to the innocent skies, which are
+only composed of pure ether, and blame an impossible Large Person
+sitting up there who can have no part in circumstances which are
+entirely unknown outside the earth's ridiculously small orbit."
+
+He smiled kindly as he spoke, and looked paternally at "the Sovrani,"
+who flushed with a sudden warmth that sent a wave of pale rose over her
+face, and made her cheeks the colour of the flower she wore.
+
+"How cruel you are!" she said,--"How cold--how didactic! You would give
+each man his freedom according to habit and temperament,--no matter
+whether such habit and temperament led to crime or otherwise,--you
+would impose upon him no creed,--no belief in anything higher than
+himself,--and yet--you remain in the Church!"
+
+The Abbe laughed softly.
+
+"Chere Sovrani! You are angry--deliciously angry! Impulsively,
+enthusiastically, beautifully vexed with me! I like to see you so,--you
+are a woman of remarkable genius, and yet you are quite a little child
+in heart,--a positive child, with beliefs and hopes! I should not
+wonder if you even believed that love itself is eternal!--that most
+passing of phantoms!--yes--and you exclaim against me because I venture
+to think for myself? It is appalling that I should think for myself and
+yet remain in the Church? My dear lady, you might just as well, after
+unravelling the dirty entanglement of the Dreyfus case, have turned
+upon our late friend Faure and exclaimed 'And yet you remained
+President!'"
+
+Angela's violet eyes glowed.
+
+"He was not allowed to remain President," she said.
+
+"No, he was not. He died. Certainly! And I know you think he would not
+have died if he had done his best to clear the character of an innocent
+man. To women of your type, it always seems as if God--the Large Person
+up above--stepped in exactly at the right moment. It would really
+appear as if it were so at times. But such things are mere
+coincidences."
+
+"I do not believe in coincidences," said Angela decisively, "I do not
+believe in 'chance' or 'luck', or what you call 'fortuitous' haphazard
+arrangements of any sort. I think everything is planned by law from the
+beginning; even to the particular direction in which a grain of dust
+floats through space. It is all mathematical and exact. And the moving
+Spirit--the Divine Centre of things, whom I call God,--cannot dislodge
+or alter one particle of the majestic system without involving the
+whole in complete catastrophe. It is our mistake to 'chance' things--at
+least, so I think. And if I exclaim against you and say,--"Why do you
+remain in the Church?' it is because I cannot understand a man of
+conscience and intellect outwardly professing one thing while inwardly
+he means another. Because God will take him in the end at his own
+interior valuation, not at his outward seeming."
+
+"Uncomfortable, if true," said the Abbe, still smiling. "When one has
+been at infinite pains all one's life to present a charmingly virtuous
+and noble aspect to the world, it would be indeed distressing if at the
+last moment one were obliged to lift the mask . . ."
+
+"Sometimes one is not given the chance to lift it," interposed Angela,
+"It is torn off ruthlessly by a force greater than one's own. 'Call no
+man happy till his death,' you know."
+
+"Yes, I know," and the Abbe settled himself in his chair more
+comfortably;--he loved an argument with "the Sovrani", and was wont to
+declare that she was the only woman in the world who had ever made him
+wish to be a good man,--"But that maxim can be taken in two ways. It
+may mean that no man is happy till his death,--which I most potently
+believe,--or it may mean that a man is only JUDGED after his death, in
+which case it cannot be said to affect his happiness, as he is past
+caring whether people think ill or well of him. Besides, after death it
+must needs be all right, as every man is so particularly fortunate in
+his epitaph!"
+
+Angela smiled a little.
+
+"That is witty of you," she said, "but the fact of every man having a
+kindly-worded epitaph only proves goodness of heart and feeling in his
+relatives and friends--"
+
+"Or gratitude for a fortune left to them in his will," declared the
+Abbe gaily, "or a sense of relief that the dear creature has gone and
+will never come back. Either motive, would, I know, inspire me to write
+most pathetic verses! Now you bend your charming brows at me,--mea
+culpa! I have said something outrageous?"
+
+"Not from the point of view at which YOU take life," said Angela
+quietly, "but I was just then thinking of a cousin of mine,--a very
+beautiful woman; her husband treated her with every possible sort of
+what I should term civil cruelty,--polite torture--refined agony. If he
+had struck her or shot her dead it would have been far kinder. But his
+conduct was worse than murder. He finally deserted her, and left her
+penniless to fight her own way through the world. Then he died
+suddenly, and she forgot all his faults, spoke of him as though he had
+been a model of goodness, and lives now for his memory, ever mourning
+his loss. In her case the feeling of regret had nothing to do with
+money, for he spent all her fortune and left her nothing even of her
+own. She has to work hard for her living now,--but she loves him and is
+as true to him as if he were still alive. What do you say to that?"
+
+"I say that the lady in question must be a charming person!" replied
+the Abbe, "Perfectly charming! But of course she is deceiving herself;
+and she takes pleasure in the self-deception. She knows that the man
+had deserted her and was quite unworthy of her devotion;--but she
+pretends to herself that she does NOT know. And it is charming, of
+course! But women will do that kind of thing. It is extraordinary,--but
+they will. They all deceive themselves in matters of love. Even you
+deceive yourself."
+
+Angela started.
+
+"I?" she exclaimed.
+
+"Yes--you--why not?" And the Abbe treated her to one of his
+particularly paternal smiles. "You are betrothed to Florian
+Varillo,--but no man ever had or ever could have all the virtues with
+which you endow this excellent Florian. He is a delightful creature,--a
+good artist--unique in his own particular line,--but you think him
+something much greater than even artist or man--a sort of god, (though
+the gods themselves were not impeccable) only fit to be idealised. Now,
+I am not a believer in the gods,--but of course it is delightful to me
+to meet those who are."
+
+"Signor Varillo needs neither praise nor defence," said Angela with a
+slight touch of hauteur, "All the world knows what he is."
+
+"Yes, precisely! That is just it,--all the world knows what he is,--"
+and the Abbe rubbed his forehead with an air of irritation, "And I am
+vexing you by my talk, I can see! Well, well!--You must forgive my
+garrulity;--I admit my faults--I am old--I am a cynic--I talk too
+much--I have a bad opinion of man, and an equally bad opinion of the
+Forces that evolved him. By the way, I met that terrible reformer and
+socialist Aubrey Leigh at the Embassy the other day--the man who is
+making such a sensation in England with his 'Addresses to the People.'
+He is quite an optimist, do you know? He believes in everything and
+everybody,--even in me!"
+
+Angela laughed, and her laughter sweet and low, thrilled the air with a
+sense of music.
+
+"That is wonderful!" she said gaily,--"Even in you! And how does he
+manage to believe in you, Monsieur l'Abbe? Do tell me!"
+
+A little frown wrinkled the Abbe's brow.
+
+"Well! in a strange way," he responded. "You know he is a very strange
+man and believes in very strange things. When I treat humanity as a
+jest--which is really how it should be treated--he looks at me with a
+grand air of tolerance, 'Oh, you will progress;' he says, 'You are
+passing through a phase.' 'My dear sir,' I assure him, 'I have lived in
+this "phase", as you call it, for forty years. I used to pray to the
+angels and saints and to all the different little Madonnas that live in
+different places, till I was twenty. Then I dropped all the pretty
+heaven-toys at once;--and since then I have believed in
+nothing--myself, least of all. Now I am sixty--and yet you tell me I am
+only passing through a phase.' 'Quite so,' he answered me with the
+utmost coolness, 'Your forty years--or your sixty years, are a Moment
+merely;--the Moment will pass--and you will find another Moment coming
+which will explain the one which has just gone. Nothing is simpler.'
+And when I ask him which will be the best Moment,--the one that goes,
+or the one that comes--he says that I am making the coming Moment for
+myself--'which is so satisfactory' he adds with that bright smile of
+his, 'because of course you will make it pleasant!' 'Il faut que tout
+homme trouve pour lui meme une possibilite particuliere de vie
+superieure dans l'humble et inevitable realite quotidienne.' I do not
+find the 'possibilite particuliere'--but this man assures me it is
+because I do not trouble to look for it. What do you think about it?"
+Angela's eyes were full of dreamy musing.
+
+"I think Mr. Leigh's ideas are beautiful," she said, slowly, "I have
+often heard him talk on the subject of religion--and of art, and of
+work,--and all he says seems to be the expression of a noble and
+sincere mind. He is extraordinarily gifted."
+
+"Yes,--and he is becoming rather an alarming personage in England, so I
+hear,--" returned the Abbe--"He writes books that are distinctly
+dangerous, because true. He wants to upset shams like our Socialist
+writer Gys Grandit. Gys Grandit, you know, will never be satisfied
+till, like Rousseau, he has brought about another French Revolution. He
+is only a peasant, they say, but he writes with the pen of a prophet.
+And this Englishman is of the same calibre,--only his work is directed
+against religious hypocrisies more than social ones. I daresay that is
+why I always feel so uneasy in his presence!" And Vergniaud laughed
+lightly. "For the rest, he is a brilliant creature enough, and
+thoroughly manly. The other evening at the Club that little Vicomte de
+Lorgne was chattering in his usual offensive manner about women, and
+Leigh astonished everyone by the way in which he pulled him up. There
+was almost a very pretty quarrel,--but a stray man happened to mention
+casually,--that Leigh was considered one of the finest shots in
+England. After that the dear Vicomte vanished, and did not return."
+
+Angela laughed.
+
+"Poor de Lorgne! Yes--I have heard that Mr. Leigh excels in everything
+that is distinctly English--riding, shooting, and all that kind of
+thing. He is not effeminate."
+
+"Few Englishmen are," said the Abbe,--"And yet to my mind there is
+something not altogether English in this man. He has none of the heavy
+British mental and physical stolidity. He is strong and muscular
+certainly,--but also light and supple,--and with that keen,
+intellectual delicate face of his, he is more of the antique Greek type
+than like a son of Les Isles Sans-Soleil."
+
+"Sans-Soleil," echoed Angela, "But there is plenty of sunshine in
+England!"
+
+"Is there? Well, I have been unfortunate,--I have never seen any,--"
+and the Abbe gave a shrug of half regret, half indifference. "It is
+very curious the effect that this so brave England has upon me! In
+crossing to its shores I suffer of course from the mal de mer--then
+when I arrive exhausted to the white cliffs, it is generally
+raining--then I take train to London, where it is what is called black
+fog; and I find all the persons that I meet either with a cold, or
+going to have a cold, or just recovering from a cold! It is not
+lively--the very funerals are dull. And you--this is not your
+experience?"
+
+"No--frankly I cannot say it is," replied Angela, "I have seen rain and
+fog in Rome that cannot be surpassed for wretchedness anywhere. Italy
+is far more miserable in cold weather than England. I passed a summer
+once in England, and it was to me like a glimpse of Paradise. I never
+saw so many flowers--I never heard so many birds--(you know in Italy we
+kill all the singing birds and eat them), and I never met so many kind
+and gentle people."
+
+"Well!--perhaps the religious sects in England are responsible for the
+general feeling of depression in the English atmosphere," said the Abbe
+with a light laugh, "They are certainly foggy! The one round Sun of one
+Creed is unknown to them. I assure you it is best to have one light of
+faith, even though it be only a magic lantern,--a toy to amuse the
+children of this brief life before their everlasting bedtime comes--"
+He broke off abruptly as a slow step was heard approaching along the
+passage, and in another moment Cardinal Bonpre entered the room.
+
+"Ah, le bien aime Felix!" cried Vergniaud, hastening to meet him and
+clasp his outstretched hand, bowing slightly over it as he did so, "I
+have taken the liberty to wait for you, cher Monseigneur, being anxious
+to see you--and I understand your stay in Paris will not be long?"
+
+"A few days at most, my dear Abbe",--replied the Cardinal, gently
+pressing the hand of Vergniaud and smiling kindly. "You are well? But
+surely I need not ask--you seem to be in the best of health and
+spirits."
+
+"Ah, my seeming is always excellent," returned the Abbe, "However, I do
+not fare badly. I have thrown away all hard thinking!"
+
+"And you are happier so?"
+
+"Well, I am not quite sure! There is undoubtedly a pleasure in
+analysing the perplexities of one's own mind. Still, on the whole, it
+is perhaps better to enjoy the present hour without any thought at all."
+
+"Like the butterflies!" laughed Angela.
+
+"Yes,--if butterflies DO enjoy their hour,--which I am not at all
+prepared to admit. In my opinion they are very dissatisfied
+creatures,--no sooner on one flower than off they go to another. Very
+like human beings after all! But I imagine they never worry themselves
+with philosophical or religious questions."
+
+"And do you?" enquired Bonpre, smiling, as he sat down in the easy
+chair his niece placed for him.
+
+"Not as a rule!--" answered Vergniaud frankly, with a light laugh--"But
+I confess I have done a little in that way lately. Some of the new
+sciences puzzle me,--I am surprised to find how closely they approach
+to the fulfilment of old prophecies. One is almost inclined to believe
+that there must be a next world and a future life."
+
+"I think such belief is now placed beyond mere inclination," said the
+Cardinal--"There is surely no doubt of it."
+
+Vergniaud gave him a quick side-glance of earnest scrutiny.
+
+"With you, perhaps not--" he replied--"But with me,--well!--it is a
+different matter. However, it is really no use worrying one's self with
+the question of 'To be, or not to be.' It drove Hamlet mad, just as the
+knotty point as to whether Hamlet himself was fat or lean nearly killed
+our hysterical little boy, Catullus Mendes. It's best to leave eternal
+subjects like God and Shakespeare alone."
+
+He laughed again, but the Cardinal did not smile.
+
+"I do not agree with you, Vergniaud," he said--"I fear it is because we
+do not think sufficiently for ourselves on the One eternal subject that
+so much mischief threatens us at the present time. To take gifts and
+ignore the Giver is surely the blackest ingratitude, yet that is what
+the greater part of humanity is guilty of in these days. Never was
+there so much beholding and yet ignoring of the Divine as now. Science
+is searching for God, and is getting closer to Him every day;--the
+Church remains stationary and refuses to look out beyond her own pale
+of thought and conventional discipline. I know,--" and the Cardinal
+hesitated a moment, "I know I can speak quite plainly to you, for you
+are what is called a freethinker--yet I doubt whether you are really as
+free as you imagine!"
+
+The Abbe shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I imagine nothing!" he declared airily, "Everything is imagined for me
+nowadays,--and imagination itself is like a flying Geni which overtakes
+and catches the hair of some elusive Reality and turns its face round,
+full-shining on an amazed world!"
+
+"A pretty simile!" said Angela Sovrani, smiling.
+
+"Is it not? Almost worthy of Paul Verlaine who was too 'inspired' to
+keep either his body or his soul clean. Why was I not a poet!
+Helas!--Fact so much outweighs fancy that it is no longer any use
+penning a sonnet to one's mistress's eyebrow. One needs to write with
+thunderbolts in characters of lightning, to express the wonders and
+discoveries of this age. When I find I can send a message from here to
+London across space, without wires or any visible means of
+communication,--and when I am told that probably one of these days I
+shall be able at will to SEE the person to whom I send the message,
+reflected in space while the message is being delivered,--I declare
+myself so perfectly satisfied with the fairy prodigies revealed to me,
+that I have really no time, and perhaps no inclination to think of any
+other world than this one."
+
+"You are wrong, then," said the Cardinal, "Very wrong, Vergniaud. To me
+these discoveries of science, this apparent yielding of invisible
+forces into human hands, are signs and portents of terror. You remember
+the line 'the powers of heaven shall be shaken'? Those powers are being
+shaken now! We cannot hold them back;--they are here, with us;--but
+they mean much more than mere common utility to our finite selves. They
+are the material declarations of what is spiritual. They are the
+scientific proofs that Christ's words to 'THIS generation,' namely,
+this particular phase of creation,--are true. 'Blessed are they which
+have not seen and yet believed,' He said;--and many there are who have
+passed away from us in rapt faith and hope, believing not seeing, and
+with whom we may rejoice in spirit, knowing that all must be well with
+them. But now--now we are come upon an age of doubt in the world--doubt
+which corrodes and kills the divine spirit in man, and therefore we are
+being forced to SEE that we may believe,--but the seeing is terrible!"
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because in the very beholding of things we remain blind!" answered the
+Cardinal, "Our intense selfishness obscures the true light of every
+fresh advance. We accept new marvels of knowledge, as so much practical
+use to us, and to the little planet we live on,--but we do not see that
+they are merely reflections of the Truth from which they emanate. The
+toy called the biograph, which reflects pictures for us in a dazzling
+and moving continuity, so that we can see scenes of human life in
+action, is merely a hint to us that every scene of every life is
+reflected in a ceaseless moving panorama SOMEWHERE in the Universe, for
+the beholding of SOMEONE,--yes!--there must be Someone who so elects to
+look upon everything, or such possibilities of reflected scenes would
+not be,--inasmuch as nothing exists without a Cause for existence. The
+wireless telegraphy is a stupendous warning of the truth that 'from God
+no secrets are hid', and also of the prophecy of Christ 'there is
+nothing covered that shall not be revealed'--and, 'whatsoever ye have
+spoken in darkness shall be revealed in light.' The latter words are
+almost appalling in their absolute accord with the latest triumphant
+discoveries of science."
+
+Abbe Vergniaud looked at the Cardinal, and slightly raised his eyebrows
+in a kind of wondering protest.
+
+"TRES-SAINT Felix!" he murmured, "Are you turning into a mystic? One of
+those doubtful personages who are seeking to reconcile science with the
+Church?--"
+
+"Stop!" interposed the Cardinal, raising his hand with an eloquent
+gesture, "Science is, or should be, the Church!--science is Truth, and
+Truth is God! God cannot be found anywhere in a lie; and the Church in
+many ways would make our Divine Redeemer Himself a lie were it not that
+His words are every day taking fresh meaning, and bringing new and
+solemn conviction to those who have eyes to see and ears to hear!"
+
+He spoke as if carried beyond himself,--his pale cheeks glowed,--his
+eyes flashed fire,--and the combined effect of his words and manner was
+startling to the Abbe, and in a way stupefying to his niece Angela. She
+had never heard him give utterance to such strong sentiments and she
+shrank a little within herself, wondering whether as a Cardinal of the
+Roman Church he had not been too free of speech. She glanced
+apprehensively at Vergniaud, who however only smiled a little.
+
+"If you should be disposed to express yourself in such terms at the
+Vatican,--" he began.
+
+The Cardinal relapsed into his usual calm, and met the Abbe's
+questioning, half cynical glance composedly. "I have many things to
+speak of at the Vatican," he answered,--"This matter will probably be
+one of them."
+
+"Then--" But whatever Vergniaud was about to say was interrupted by the
+entrance of the boy Manuel, who at that moment came into the room and
+stood beside the Cardinal's chair. The Abbe gave him an upward glance
+of surprise and admiration.
+
+"Whom have we here?" he exclaimed, "One of your acolytes, Monseigneur?"
+
+"No," replied the Cardinal, his eyes resting on the fair face of the
+lad with a wistful affection, "A little stray disciple of our Lord,--to
+whom I have ventured to offer protection. There is none to question my
+right to do so, for he is quite alone in the world."
+
+And in a few words he related how he had discovered the boy on the
+previous night, weeping outside the Cathedral in Rouen. Angela Sovrani
+listened attentively, her violet eyes darkening and deepening as she
+heard,--now and then she raised them to look at the youthful waif who
+stood so quietly while the story of his troubles was told in the gentle
+and sympathetic way which was the Cardinal's usual manner of speech,
+and which endeared him so much to all. "And for the present," finished
+Bonpre, smiling--"he stays with me, and already I have found him
+skilled in the knowledge of many things,--he can read Scripture with a
+most musical and clear emphasis,--and he is a quick scribe, so that he
+will be valuable to me in more ways than one."
+
+"Ah!" and the Abbe turned himself round in his chair to survey the boy
+more attentively, "You can read Scripture? But can you understand it?
+If you can, you are wiser than I am!"
+
+Manuel regarded him straightly.
+
+"Was it not once said in Judaea that "IT IS THE SPIRIT THAT
+QUICKENETH'?" he asked.
+
+"True!--And from that you would infer . . . ?"
+
+"That when one cannot understand Scripture, it is perhaps for the
+reason that 'THE LETTER KILLETH, BECAUSE LACKING THE SPIRIT THAT GIVETH
+LIFE."
+
+The boy spoke gently and with grace and modesty,--but something in the
+tone of his voice had a strange effect on the cynical temperament of
+Abbe Vergniaud.
+
+"Here," he mused, "is a lad in whom the principle of faith is strong
+and pure,--shall I drop the poison of doubt into the open flower of his
+mind, or leave it uncontaminated?" Aloud he said, kindly,
+
+"You speak well,--you have evidently thought for yourself. Who taught
+you to recognise 'the Spirit that giveth life'?"
+
+Manuel smiled.
+
+"Does that need teaching?" he asked.
+
+Radiance shone in his eyes,--the look of purity and candour on his
+young face was infinitely touching to the two men who beheld it,--the
+one worn with age and physical languors, the other equally worn in
+mind, if not in body. In the brief silence which followed,--a silence
+of unexpressed feeling,--a soft strain of organ-music came floating
+deliciously towards them,--a delicate thread of grave melody which wove
+itself in and out the airspaces, murmuring suggestions of tenderness
+and appeal. Angela smiled, and held up one finger, listening.
+
+"That is Mr. Leigh!" she said, "He is in my studio improvising."
+
+"Happy Mr. Leigh!" said the Abbe with a little malicious twinkle in his
+eyes, "To be allowed to improvise at all in the studio of the Sovrani!"
+
+Angela flushed, and lifted her fair head with a touch of pride.
+
+"Mr. Leigh is a friend," she said, "He is welcome in the studio always.
+His criticism of a picture is valuable,--besides--he is a celebrated
+Englishman!" She laughed, and her eyes flashed.
+
+"Ah! To a celebrated Englishman all things are conceded!" said the Abbe
+satirically, "Even the right to enter the sanctum of the most exclusive
+lady in Europe! Is it not a curious thing that the good Britannia
+appears to stick her helmet on the head, and put her sceptre in the
+hand of every one of her sons who condescends to soil his boots by
+walking on foreign soil? With the helmet he defies the gemdarme,--with
+the sceptre he breaks open every door,--we prostrate ourselves before
+his face and curse him behind his back,--c'est drole!--yet we are all
+alike, French, Germans, Austrians, and Italians;--we hate the
+Englishman, but we black his boots all the same,--which is contemptible
+of us,--MAIS, QUE FAIRE! He is so overwhelming in sheer impudence! With
+culture and politeness we might cross swords in courtly duel,--but in
+the presence of absolute bluff, or what is called 'cheek', we fall flat
+in sheer dismay! What delicious music! I see that it charms our young
+friend,--he is fond of music."
+
+"Yes," said Manuel speaking for himself before any question could be
+put to him, "I love it! It is like the fresh air,--full of breath and
+life."
+
+"Come then with me," said Angela, "Come into the studio and we will
+hear it more closely. Dearest uncle," and she knelt for a moment by the
+Cardinal's chair, "Will you come there also when Monsieur l'Abbe has
+finished talking with you?"
+
+Cardinal Bonpre's hand rested lovingly on her soft hair.
+
+"Yes, my child, I will come." And in a lower tone he added,--"Do not
+speak much to Manuel,--he is a strange lad; more fond of silence and
+prayer than other things,--and if such is his temperament I would
+rather keep him so."
+
+Angela bowed her head in acquiescence to this bidding,--then rising,
+left the room with a gentle gesture of invitation to the boy, who at
+once followed her. As the two disappeared a chill and a darkness seemed
+to fall upon the air, and the Cardinal sank back among the cushions of
+his fauteuil with a deep sigh of utter exhaustion. Abbe Vergniaud
+glanced at him inquisitively.
+
+"You are very tired, I fear?" he said.
+
+"Physically, no,--mentally, yes. Spiritually, I am certainly fatigued
+to the death."
+
+The Abbe shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Helas! There is truly much in spiritual matters to engender
+weariness!" he said.
+
+With a sudden access of energy the Cardinal gripped both arms of his
+chair and sat upright.
+
+"For God's sake, do not jest," he said earnestly, "Do not jest! We have
+all been jesting too long, and the time is near when we shall find out
+the bitter cost of it! Levity--carelessness--doubt and final heresy--I
+do not mean heresy against the Church, for that is nothing--"
+
+"Nothing!" exclaimed the Abbe, "YOU say this?"
+
+"I say it!" And Bonpre's thin worn features grew transfigured with the
+fervour of his thought. "I am a priest of the Church--but I am also a
+man!--with reason, with brain, and with a love of truth;--and I can
+faithfully say I have an almost jealous honour for my Master--but I
+repeat, heresy against the Church is nothing,--it is heresy against
+Christ which is the crime of the age,--and in that, the very Church is
+heretic! Heresy against Christ!--Heresy against Christ! A whole system
+of heresy! 'I never knew you,--depart from me, ye workers of iniquity,'
+will be our Lord's words at the Last Judgment!"
+
+The Abbe's wonderment increased. He looked down a moment, then looked
+up, and a quizzical, half-melancholy expression filled his eyes.
+
+"Well, I am very much concerned in all this," he said, "I wanted to
+have a private talk with you on my own account, principally because I
+know you to be a good man, while I am a bad one. I have a trouble
+here,--" and he touched the region of his heart, "which the wise
+doctors say may end my days at any moment; two years at the utmost is
+the ultimatum of my life, so I want to know from you, whom I know to be
+intelligent and honest, whether you believe I am going to another
+existence,--and if so, what sort of a one you think is in prospect for
+such a man as I am? Now don't pity me, my dear Bonpre,--don't pity
+me!--" and he laughed a little huskily as the Cardinal took his hand
+and pressed it with a silent sympathy more eloquent than words, "We
+must all die,--and if I am to go somewhat sooner than I expected, that
+is nothing to compassionate me for. But there is just a little
+uncertainty in my mind,--I am not at all sure that death is the end--I
+wish I could be quite positive of the fact. I was once--quite positive.
+But science, instead of giving me this absolute comfort has in its
+later progress upset all my former calculations, and I am afraid I must
+own that there is indubitably Something Else,--which to my mind seems
+distinctly disagreeable!"
+
+Though the Abbe spoke lightly, the troubled look remained in his eyes
+and the Cardinal saw it.
+
+"My dear Vergniaud," he began gently, "I am grieved at what you tell
+me--"
+
+"No, don't be grieved," interrupted Vergniaud, "because that is not it.
+Talk to me! Tell me what you truly think. That this life is only a
+schoolroom where we do our lessons more or less badly?--That death is
+but the name for another life? Now do not FORCE your faith for me. Tell
+me your own honest conviction. Do we end?--or do we begin again? Be
+frank and fair and true; according to the very latest science,
+remember!--not according to the latest hocus-pocus of twelfth-century
+mandate issued from Rome. You see how frank I am, and how entirely I go
+with you. But I am going further than you,--I am bound for the last
+voyage--so you must not offer me the wrong pass-word to the shore!"
+
+"No, I will give you the right pass-word," said the cardinal, a fervid
+glow of enthusiasm lighting up his features. "It is CHRIST in all, and
+through all! Christ only;--Christ, the friend and brother of man;--the
+only Divine Teacher this world has ever had, or ever will have!"
+
+"You believe in Him really,--truly,--then?" exclaimed the Abbe
+wonderingly.
+
+"Really--truly, and with all my heart and soul!" responded the Cardinal
+firmly,--"Surely, you too, believe?"
+
+"No," said the Abbe firmly, "I do not! I would as soon believe that the
+lad you have just rescued from the streets of Rouen is divine, as that
+there is any divinity in the Man of Nazareth!"
+
+He rose up as he spoke in a kind of petulance,--then started slightly
+as he found himself face to face with Manuel. The boy had entered
+noiselessly and stood for a moment glancing from one priest of the
+Church to the other. A faint smile was on his face,--his blue eyes were
+full of light.
+
+"Did you call me, my lord Cardinal?" he asked.
+
+The Cardinal looked up.
+
+"No, my child!"
+
+"I thought I heard you. If you should need me, I am close at hand."
+
+He went away as quietly as he had entered; and the same silence
+followed his departure as before,--a silence which was only disturbed
+by the occasional solemn and sweet vibrations of the distant music from
+the studio.
+
+
+
+
+VIII.
+
+"A strange lad!" said Abbe Vergniaud, abruptly.
+
+"Strange? In what way do you find him so?" asked the Cardinal with a
+touch of anxiety.
+
+The Abbe knitted his brows perplexedly, and took a short turn up and
+down the room. Then he laughed.
+
+"Upon my word, I cannot tell you!" he declared, with one of those
+inimitable gestures common to Frenchmen, a gesture which may mean
+anything or nothing,--"But he speaks too well, and, surely, thinks too
+much for his years. Is there nothing further to tell of him save what
+you have already said? Nothing that you know of him, beyond the plain
+bare fact of having found him weeping alone outside the doors of the
+Cathedral?"
+
+"Nothing indeed!" replied the Cardinal bewildered. "What else should
+there be?"
+
+The Abbe hesitated a moment, and when he spoke again it was in a softer
+and graver tone. "Forgive me! Of course there could be nothing else
+with you. You are so different to all other Churchmen I have ever
+known. Still, the story of your foundling is exceptional;--you will own
+that it is somewhat out of the common course of things, for a Cardinal
+to suddenly constitute himself the protector and guardian of a small
+tramp--for this boy is nothing else. Now, if it were any other
+Cardinal-Archbishop than yourself, I should at once say that His
+Eminence knew exactly where to find the mother of his protege!"
+
+"Vergniaud!" exclaimed the Cardinal.
+
+"Forgive me! I said 'forgive me' as a prelude to my remarks," resumed
+Vergniaud, "I am talking profanely, sceptically, and cynically,--I am
+talking precisely as the world talks, and as it always will talk."
+
+"The world may talk itself out of existence, before it can hinder me
+from doing what I conceive to be my duty," said Felix Bonpre, calmly,
+"The lad is alone and absolutely friendless,--it is but fitting and
+right that I should do what I can for him."
+
+Abbe Vergniaud sat down, and for a moment appeared absorbed in thought.
+
+"You are a curious man;" he at length observed, "And a more than
+curious priest! Here you are, assuming the guardianship of a boy
+concerning whom you know nothing,--when you might as well have handed
+him over to one of the orphanages for the poor, or have paid for his
+care and education with some of the monastic brethren established near
+Rouen,--but no!--you being eccentric, feel as if you were personally
+responsible to God for the child, simply because you found him lost and
+alone, and therefore you have him with you. It is very good of you,--we
+will call it great of you--but it is not usual. People will say you
+have a private motive;--you must remember that the world never gives
+you credit for doing a good action simply for the pure sake of doing
+it,--'There must be something behind it all,' they say. When the worst
+cocotte of the age begins to lose her beauty, the prospect is so
+alarming that she thinks there may be a possible hell, after all, and
+she straightway becomes charitable and renowned for good
+works;--precisely in the same way as our famous stage 'stars', knowing
+their lives to be less clean than the lives of their horses and their
+dogs, give subscriptions and altar-cloths and organs to the clergy. It
+is all very amusing!--I assure you I have often laughed at it. It is as
+if they took Heaven by its private ear in confidence, and said, 'See
+now, I want to put things straight with you if I can!--and if a few
+church-ornaments, and candlesticks will pacify you, why, take them and
+hold your tongue!'"
+
+He paused, but the Cardinal was silent.
+
+"I know," went on the Abbe, "that you think I am indulging in the worst
+kind of levity to talk in this way. It sounds horrible to you. And you
+perhaps think I cannot be serious. My dear Saint Felix, there never was
+a more serious man than I. I would give worlds--universes--to believe
+as you do! I have written books of religious discussion,--not because I
+wanted the notice of the world for them,--for that I do not care
+about,--but for the sake of wrestling out the subject for myself, and
+making my pen my confidant. I tell you I envy the woman who can say her
+rosary with the simple belief that the Virgin Mary hears and takes
+delight in all those repetitions. Nothing would have given me greater
+pleasure than to have composed a volume of prayers,--a 'Garland of
+Flowers'--such as an innocent girl could hold in her hands, and bend
+her sweet eyes over. It would have been a taste of the
+sensual-spiritual, or the spiritual-sensual,--which is the most
+exquisite of all human sensations."
+
+"There is no taint of sensuality in the purely spiritual," said the
+Cardinal reprovingly.
+
+"Not for your nature,--no! You have made your body like a transparent
+scabbard through which the glitter of the soul-sword is almost visible.
+But I am different. I am so much of a materialist that I like to pull
+down Heaven to the warm bosom of Earth and make them mingle. You would
+lift up Earth to Heaven! Ah, that is difficult! Even Christ came down!
+It is the chief thing I admire in Him, that He 'descended from Heaven
+and was made Man'. TRES CHER Felix, I shall bewilder you to death with
+my specious and frivolous reasoning,--and after all, I had much better
+come to the main fact of what I intended to tell you,--a sort of
+confession out of church. You know I have already told you I am going
+to die soon, and that I am a bad man confessedly and hopelessly,--but
+among other things is this, (and if you can give me any advice upon it
+I will take it,) that for the last four or five years I have been
+dodging about to escape being murdered,--not because I particularly
+mind being murdered, because I probably deserve it,--and one way of
+exit is as good as another,--but because I want to save the would-be
+murderer from committing his crime. Is not that a good motive?"
+
+Cardinal Bonpre gazed at him in astonishment. Vergniaud appeared to him
+in an entirely new light. He had always known him as a careless,
+cynical-tempered man;--a close thinker,--a clever writer, and a
+brilliant talker,--and he had been inclined to consider him as a
+"society" priest,--one of those amiable yet hypocritical personages,
+who, by the most jesuitical flatteries and studied delicacies of
+manner, succeed in influencing weak-minded persons of wealth,
+(especially women) to the end of securing vast sums of money to the
+Church,--obtaining by these means such rank and favour for themselves
+as would otherwise never have been granted to them. But now the Abbe's
+frank admission of his own sins and failings seemed a proof of his
+inherent sincerity,--and sincerity, whether found in orthodoxy or
+heterodoxy, always commanded the Cardinal's respect.
+
+"Are you speaking in parables or in grave earnest?" he asked. "Do you
+really mean that you are shadowed by some would-be assassin? An
+assassin, too, whom you actually wish to protect?"
+
+"Exactly!" And Vergniaud smiled with the air of one who admits the
+position to be curious but by no means alarming. "I want to save him
+from the guillotine; and if he murders me I cannot! It is a question of
+natural instinct merely. The would-be assassin is my son!"
+
+Cardinal Bonpre raised his clear blue eyes and fixed them full on the
+Abbe.
+
+"This is a very serious matter," he said gently, "Surely it is best to
+treat it seriously?"
+
+"Oh, I am serious enough, God knows!" returned Vergniaud, with a heavy
+but impatient sigh, "I suppose there is, there must be, some terribly
+exact Mathematician concerned in the working of things, else a man's
+past sins and failings being done with and over, would not turn up any
+more. But they DO turn up,--the unseen Mathematician counts every
+figure;--and of course trouble ensues. My story is simply this;--Some
+twenty-five years ago I was in Touraine;--I was a priest as I am
+now--Oh, yes!--the sin is as black as the Church can make it!--and one
+mid-summer evening I strolled into a certain quaint old church of a
+certain quaint old town,--I need not name it--and saw there a girl, as
+sweet as an apple blossom, kneeling in front of the altar. I watched
+her,--I see her now!--the late sunlight through the stained glass
+window fell like a glory on her pretty hair, and on the little white
+kerchief folded so daintily across her bosom, and on her small hands
+and the brown rosary that was twisted round her fingers. She was
+praying, so she told me afterwards, to her guardian angel,--I wonder
+what that personage was about just then, Bonpre! Anyhow, to her
+petition came no answer but a devil,--a devil personified in me,--I
+made her love me,--I tempted her by ever subtle and hellish persuasion
+I could think of,--I can never even now think of that time without
+wondering where all the eloquent evil of my tongue came
+from--and--well!--she never was able to ask the guardian angel any more
+favours! And I?--I think I loved her for a while,--but no, I am not
+sure;--I believe there is no such good thing as absolute love in my
+composition. Anyway, I soon left Touraine, and had almost forgotten her
+when she wrote to tell me of the birth of her child--a son. I gave her
+no reply, and then she wrote again,--such a letter!--such words! At the
+moment they burnt me,--stabbed me--positively hurt me,--and I was not
+then easily hurt. She swore she would bring the boy up to curse his
+father,--and, to put it quite briefly,--she did. She died when he was
+twenty, and it now appears the lad took an oath by her death-bed that
+he would never rest till he had killed the man who had dishonoured his
+mother, and broken her heart, and brought him into the world with a
+stigma on his name. No filial respect, you see!" And Vergniaud tried to
+force a smile. "To do the boy justice, he apparently means to keep his
+oath,--he has not rested; he has been at infinite pains to discover me;
+he has even been at the trouble to write me a warning letter, and is
+now in Paris watching me. I, in my turn, take care to protect
+myself;--I am followed by detectives, and am at enormous pains to guard
+my life; not for my own sake but for his. An odd complication of
+circumstances, is it not? I cannot have him arrested because he would
+at once relate his history, and my name would be ruined. And that would
+be quite as good a vengeance for him as the other thing. You will admit
+that it is a very dramatic situation!"
+
+"It is a retribution!" said the Cardinal in a low voice, "And a
+terrible one!"
+
+"Yes, I suppose it is. I imagined you would consider it in that light,"
+and Vergniaud half closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair
+languidly, "But here I am, willing to set things as straight as I can,
+and it really seems impossible to arrange matters. I am to die soon,
+according to the doctors;--and so I have made my willleaving everything
+I possess to this ridiculous boy who wishes to kill me; and it is more
+than probable that he,--considering how he has been brought up and
+educated--will cast all the money into the dirt, and kick at my grave.
+But what can I do?"
+
+"Nothing," said the Cardinal, "You can do nothing, Vergniaud! That is
+the worst of having inflicted a wrong upon the innocent,--you can never
+by any means retrieve it. You can repent,--and it is probable that your
+very repentance ensures your forgiveness at a higher tribunal than that
+of earth's judgment,--but the results of wrong cannot be wiped out or
+done away with in this life;--they continue to exist, and alas!--often
+multiply. Even the harsh or unjust word cannot be recalled, and however
+much we may regret having uttered it, somehow it is never forgotten.
+But--" here leaning forward, he laid one hand gently on Vergniaud's
+arm, "My dear friend--my dear brother--you have told me of your
+sin;--it is a great sin,--but God forbid that I should presume to judge
+you harshly when our Lord Himself declared that 'He came not to call
+the righteous but sinners to repentance'. It may be that I can find a
+way to help you. Arrange for me to see this misguided son of
+yours,--and I will endeavour to find a means of restitution to him and
+to the memory of his mother before you pass away from us,--if indeed
+you are to pass away so soon. Under the levity you assume I perceive
+you have deep feeling on this matter;--you shall not die with a wrong
+on your soul, Vergniaud!--you shall not if I can prevent it! For there
+undoubtedly is another life; you must go into it as purely as prayer
+and penitence can make you."
+
+"I thought," said the Abbe, speaking somewhat unsteadily, "that you
+might when you heard all, hurl some of Rome's thunderous denunciations
+upon me . . ."
+
+"What am I, and what is Rome, compared with the Master's own word?"
+said the Cardinal gently. "If our brothers sin against us seventy times
+seven we are still to forgive, and they are still our brothers!
+Denunciations, judgments and condemnations of one another are not any
+part of our Lord's commands."
+
+Vergniaud rose up and held out his hand.
+
+"Will you take it," he said, "as a pledge that I will faithfully do
+whatever you may see fitting and right to retrieve the past?--and to
+clear my son's soul from the thirst of vengeance which is consuming it?"
+
+Cardinal Bonpre clasped the extended hand warmly.
+
+"There is your answer!" he said, with a smile which irradiated his fine
+countenance with an almost supernatural beauty and tenderness, "You
+have sinned against Heaven, and you have sinned against the Church and
+your own calling,--but the greatest sinner can do no more than repent
+and strive to make amends. For I see you fully know and comprehend the
+extent of your sin."
+
+"Yes, I know it," and Vergniaud's eyes were clouded and his brows
+knitted, "I know it only too well! Greater than any fault of
+Church-discipline is a wrong to human life,--and I wronged and betrayed
+an innocent woman who loved me! Her soul was as sweet as the honey-cup
+of a flower,--I poisoned it. That was as bad as poisoning the
+Sacrament! I should have kept it sweet and pure; I should have let the
+Church go, and been honest! I should have seen to it that the child of
+my love grew up to honour his father,--not to merely live for the
+murder of him! Yes!--I know what I should have done--I know what I have
+not done--and I am afraid I shall always know! Unless I can do
+something to atone I have a strange feeling that I shall pass from this
+world to the next--and that the first thing I shall see will be her
+face! Her face as I saw it when the sunshine made a halo round her
+hair, and she prayed to her guardian angel."
+
+He shuddered slightly, and his voice died away in a half whisper. The
+Cardinal pressed his hand again warmly and tenderly.
+
+"Courage, courage!" he said. "It is true we cannot do away with our
+memories,--but we can try and make them sweet. And who knows how much
+God may help us in the task? Never forget the words that tell us how
+'the angels rejoice more over one sinner that repenteth than over
+ninety and nine just persons.'"
+
+"Ah!" and the Abbe smiled, recovering somewhat of his usual manner,
+"And that is so faithfully enforced upon us, is it not? The Churches
+are all so lenient? And Society is so kind?--so gentle in its estimate
+of its friends? Our Church, for example, has never persecuted a
+sinner?--has never tortured an unbeliever? It has been so patient, and
+so unwearying in searching for stray sheep and bringing them back with
+love and tenderness and pity to the fold? And Churchmen never say
+anything which is slanderous or cruel? And we all follow Christ's
+teaching so accurately? Yes!--Ah well--I wonder! I wonder what will be
+the end! I wonder why we came into life at all--I wonder why we go!
+Fortunately for me, by and by, there will be an end of all wondering,
+and you can write above my tomb, 'Implora pace'! The idea of commencing
+a new life is to me, horrible,--I prefer 'Nirvana' or nothingness.
+Never have I read truer words than those of Byron,
+
+ 'Count o'er the joys thine hours have seen,
+ Count o'er thy days from anguish free,
+ And know whatever thou hast been,
+ 'Tis something better not to be.'"
+
+"I cannot think that is either true or good philosophy," said the
+Cardinal, "It is merely the utterance of a disappointed man in a
+misanthropic mood. There is no 'not to be' in creation. Each morning
+that lights the world is an expression of 'to be'! And however much we
+may regret the fact, my dear Vergniaud, we find ourselves in a state of
+BEING and we must make the best of it,--not the worst. Is that not so?"
+
+His look was gentle and commanding,--his voice soft yet firm,--and the
+worldly Abbe felt somewhat like a chidden child as he met the gaze of
+those clear true eyes that were undarkened by any furtive hypocrisies
+or specious meanings.
+
+"I suppose it is, but unfortunately I have made the worst of it," he
+answered, "and having made the worst I see no best. Who is that
+singing?"
+
+He lifted his hand with a gesture of attention as a rich mezzo-soprano
+rang out towards them,--
+
+ "Per carita
+ Mostrami il cielo;
+ Tulto e un velo,
+ E non si sa
+ Dove e il cielo.
+ Se si sta
+ Cosi cola,
+ Non si sa
+ Se non si va
+ Ahi me lontano!
+ Tulto e in vano!
+ Prendimi in mano
+ Per carita!"
+
+"It is Angela," said the Cardinal, "She has a wonderfully sweet voice."
+
+ "Prendimi in mano,
+ Per carita!"
+
+murmured Abbe Vergniaud, still listening, "It is like the cry of a lost
+soul!"
+
+"Or a strayed one," interposed the Cardinal gently, and rising, he took
+Vergniaud's arm, and leaned upon it with a kindly and familiar grace,
+an action which implied much more than the mere outward expression of
+confidence,--"Nothing is utterly lost, my dear friend. 'The very hairs
+of our head are numbered,'--not a drop of dew escapes to waste,--how
+much more precious than a drop of dew is the spirit of a man!"
+
+"It is not so unsullied," declared Vergniaud, who loved
+controversy,--"Personally, I think the dew is more valuable than the
+soul, because so absolutely clean!"
+
+"You must not bring every line of discussion to a pin's point," said
+Bonpre smiling, as he walked slowly across the room still leaning on
+the Abbe's arm. "We can reduce our very selves to the bodiless
+condition of a dream if we take sufficient pains first to advance a
+theory, and then to wear it threadbare. Nothing is so deceptive as
+human reasoning,--nothing so slippery and reversible as what we have
+decided to call 'logic.' The truest compass of life is spiritual
+instinct."
+
+"And what of those who have no spiritual instinct?" demanded Vergniaud.
+
+"I do not think there are any such. To us it certainly often seems as
+if there were masses of human beings whose sole idea of living is to
+gratify their bodily needs,--but I fancy it is only because we do not
+know them sufficiently that we judge them thus. Few, if any, are so
+utterly materialistic as never to have had some fleeting intuition of
+the Higher existence. They may lack the force to comprehend it, or to
+follow its teaching,--but in my opinion, the Divine is revealed to all
+men once at least in their lives."
+
+They had by this time passed out of the drawing-room, and now,
+ascending three steps, they went through a curtained recess into Angela
+Sovrani's studio,--a large and lofty apartment made beautiful by the
+picturesque disorder and charm common to a great artist's surroundings.
+Here, at a grand piano sat Angela herself, her song finished, her white
+hands straying idly over the keys,--and near her stood the gentleman
+whom the Abbe Vergniaud had called "a terrible reformer and Socialist"
+and who was generally admitted to be something of a remarkable
+character in Europe. Tall and fair, with very bright flashing eyes, and
+a wonderfully high bred air of concentrated pride and resolution,
+united to a grace and courtesy which exhaled from him, so to speak,
+with his every movement and gesture, he was not a man to pass by
+without comment, even in a crowd. A peculiar distinctiveness marked
+him,--out of a marching regiment one would have naturally selected him
+as the commanding officer, and in any crisis of particular social
+importance or interest his very appearance would have distinguished him
+as the leading spirit of the whole. On perceiving the Cardinal he
+advanced at once to be presented, and as Angela performed the ceremony
+of introduction he slightly bent one knee, and bowed over the venerable
+prelate's extended hand with a reverence which had in it something of
+tenderness. His greeting of Abbe Vergniaud was, while perfectly
+courteous, not quite so marked by the grace of a strong man's
+submission.
+
+"Ah, Mr. Leigh! So you have not left Paris as soon as you determined?"
+queried the Abbe with a smile, "I thought you were bound for Florence
+in haste?"
+
+"I go to Florence to-morrow," answered Leigh briefly.
+
+"So soon! I am indeed glad not to have missed you," said Cardinal
+Bonpre cordially. "Angela, my child, let me see what you have been
+doing. All your canvases are covered, or turned with their faces to the
+wall;--are we not permitted to look at any of them?"
+
+Angela immediately rose from the piano, and wheeled a large oaken chair
+with a carved and gilded canopy, into the centre of the studio.
+
+"Well, if you want to see my sketches--and they are only sketches," she
+said,--"you must come and sit here. Now," as her uncle obeyed her, "you
+look enthroned in state,--that canopy is just fitted for you, and you
+are a picture in yourself!--Yes, you are, dearest uncle! And not all
+the artists in the world could ever do you justice I Monsieur l'Abbe,
+will you sit just where you please?--And Mr. Leigh, you have seen
+everything, so it does not matter."
+
+"It matters very much," said Leigh with a smile, "For I want to see
+everything again. If I may, I will stand here."
+
+And he took up his position close to the Cardinal's chair.
+
+"But where is the boy?" asked Vergniaud, "Where is the foundling of the
+Cathedral?"
+
+"He left us some minutes ago," said Angela, "He went to your room,
+uncle."
+
+"Was he pleased with the music?" asked the Cardinal.
+
+"I think he enjoyed every note of it," said Leigh, "A thoughtful lad!
+He was very silent while I played,--but silence is often the most
+eloquent appreciation."
+
+"Are we to be silent then over the work of Donna Sovrani?" enquired the
+Abbe gaily. "Must we not express our admiration?"
+
+"If you have any admiration to express," said Angela carelessly,
+setting, as she spoke, an easel facing the Cardinal; "but I am afraid
+you will greatly disapprove of me and condemn all my work this year. I
+should explain to you first that I am composing a very large
+picture,--I began it in Rome some three years ago, and it is in my
+studio there,--but I require a few French types of countenance in order
+to quite complete it. The sketches I have made here are French types
+only. They will all be reproduced in the larger canvas--but they are
+roughly done just now. This is the first of them. I call it 'A Servant
+of Christ, at the Madeleine, Paris.'"
+
+And she placed the canvas she held on the easel and stood aside, while
+all three men looked at it with very different eyes,--one with poignant
+regret and pain,--the other with a sense of shame,--and the third with
+a thrill of strong delight in the power of the work, and of triumph in
+the lesson it gave.
+
+
+
+
+IX.
+
+Low beetling brows,--a sensual, cruel mouth with a loosely projecting
+under-lip,--eyes that appeared to be furtively watching each other
+across the thin bridge of nose,--a receding chin and a narrow cranium,
+combined with an expression which was hypocritically humble, yet
+sly,--this was the type Angela Sovrani had chosen to delineate, sparing
+nothing, softening no line, and introducing no redeeming point,--a type
+mercilessly true to the life; the face of a priest,--"A servant of
+Christ," as she called him. The title, united with that wicked and
+repulsive countenance, was a terribly significant suggestion. For some
+minutes no one spoke,--and the Cardinal was the first to break the
+silence.
+
+"Angela,--my dear child"--he said, in low, strained tones, "I am sorry
+you have done this! It is powerful--so powerful that it is painful as
+well. It cuts me to the heart that you should find it necessary to
+select such an example of the priesthood, though of course I am not in
+the secret of your aims--I do not understand your purpose . . ."
+
+He broke off,--and Angela, who had stood silent, looking as though she
+were lost in a dream, took up his unfinished sentence.
+
+"You do not understand my purpose?--Dearest uncle, I hardly understand
+it myself! Some force stronger than I am, is urging me to paint the
+picture I have begun,--some influence more ardent and eager than my
+own, burns like a fever in me, persuading me to complete the design.
+You blame me for choosing such an evil type of priest? But there is no
+question of choice! These faces are ordinary among our priests. At all
+the churches, Sunday after Sunday I have looked for a good, a noble
+face;--in vain! For an even commonly-honest face,--in vain! And my
+useless search has ended by impressing me with profound sorrow and
+disgust that so many low specimens of human intellect are selected as
+servants of our Lord. Do not judge me too severely! I feel that I have
+a work to do,--and a lesson to give in the work, when done. I may
+fail;--I may be told that as a woman I have no force, and no ability to
+make any powerful or lasting impression on this generation;--but at any
+rate I feel that I must try! If priests of the Church were like you,
+how different it would all be! But you always forget that you are an
+exception to the rule,--you do not realise how very exceptional you
+are! I told you before I showed you this sketch that you would probably
+disapprove of it and condemn me,--but I really cannot help it. In this
+matter nothing--not even the ban of the Church itself, can deter me
+from fulfilling what I have designed to do in my own soul!"
+
+She spoke passionately and with ardour,--and the Cardinal looked at her
+with something of surprise and trouble. The fire of genius is as he
+knew, a consuming one,--and he had never entirely realized how
+completely it filled and dominated this slight feminine creature for
+whom he felt an almost paternal tenderness. Before he could answer her
+the Abbe Vergniaud spoke.
+
+"Donna Sovrani is faithful to the truth in her sketch," he said,
+"therefore, as a lover of truth I do not see, my dear Bonpre, why you
+should object! If she has,--as she says,--some great aim in view, she
+must fulfil it in her own way. I quite agree with her in her estimate
+of the French priests,--they are for the most part despicable-looking
+persons,--only just a grade higher than their brothers of Italy and
+Spain. But what would you have? The iron hand of Rome holds them back
+from progress,--they are speaking and acting lies; and like the
+stagemimes, have to put on paint and powder to make the lies go down.
+But when the paint and powder come off, the religious mime is often as
+ill-looking as the stage one! Donna Sovrani has caught this particular
+example, before he has had time to put on holy airs and turn up the
+footlights. What do you think about it, Mr. Leigh?"
+
+"I think, as I have always thought," said Leigh quietly, "that Donna
+Sovrani is an inspired artist,--and that being inspired it follows that
+she must carry out her own convictions whether they suit the taste of
+others or not. 'A Servant of Christ' is a painful truth, boldly
+declared."
+
+Angela was unmoved by the compliment implied. She only glanced
+wistfully at the Cardinal, who still sat silent. Then without a word
+she withdrew the offending sketch from the easel and set another in its
+place.
+
+"This," she said gently, "is the portrait of an Archbishop. I need not
+name his diocese. He is very wealthy, and excessively selfish. I call
+this, 'LORD, _I_ THANK THEE THAT I AM NOT AS OTHER MEN'."
+
+Vergniaud laughed as he looked,--he knew the pictured dignitary well.
+The smooth countenance, the little eyes comfortably sunken in small
+rolls of fat, the smug smiling lips, the gross neck and heavy
+jaw,--marks of high feeding and prosperous living,--and above all the
+perfectly self-satisfied and mock-pious air of the man,--these points
+were given with the firm touch of a master's brush, and the Abbe, after
+studying the picture closely, turned to Angela with a light yet
+deferential bow.
+
+"Chere Sovrani, you are stronger than ever! Surely you have improved
+much since you were last in Paris? Your strokes are firmer, your grasp
+is bolder. Have your French confreres seen your work this year?"
+
+"No," replied Angela, "I am resolved they shall see nothing till my
+picture is finished."
+
+"May one ask why?"
+
+A flash of disdain passed over the girl's face.
+
+"For a very simple reason! They take my ideas and use them,--and then,
+when my work is produced they say it is _I_ who have copied from THEM,
+and that women have no imagination! I have been cheated once or twice
+in that way,--this time no one has any idea what I am doing."
+
+"No one? Not even Signer Varillo?"
+
+"No," said Angela, smiling a little, "Not even Signor Varillo. I want
+to surprise him."
+
+"In what way?" asked the Cardinal, rousing himself from his pensive
+reverie.
+
+Angela blushed.
+
+"By proving that perhaps, after all, a woman can do a great thing in
+art,--a really great thing!" she said, "Designed greatly, and greatly
+executed."
+
+"Does he not admit that, knowing you?" asked Aubrey Leigh suggestively.
+
+"Oh, he is most kind and sympathetic to me in my work," explained
+Angela quickly, vexed to think that she had perhaps implied some little
+point that was not quite in her beloved one's favour. "But he is like
+most men,--they have a preconceived idea of women, and of what their
+place should be in the world--"
+
+"Unchanged since the early phases of civilization, when women were
+something less valuable than cattle?" said Leigh smiling.
+
+"Oh, the cattle idea is not exploded, by any means!" put in Vergniaud.
+"In Germany and Switzerland, for example, look at the women who are
+ground down to toil and hardship there! The cows are infinitely
+prettier and more preferable, and lead much pleasanter lives. And the
+men for whom these poor wretched women work, lounge about in cafes all
+day, smoking and playing dominoes. The barbaric arrangement that a
+woman should be a man's drudge and chattel is quite satisfactory, I
+think, to the majority of our sex. It is certainly an odd condition of
+things that the mothers of men should suffer most from man's cruelty.
+But it is the work of an all-wise Providence, no doubt; and you, Mr.
+Leigh, will swear that it is all right!"
+
+"It is all right," said Leigh quietly, "or rather I should say, it WILL
+be all right,--and it would have been all right long ago, if we had, as
+Emerson puts it, 'accepted the hint of each new experience.' But that
+is precisely what we will not do. Woman is the true helpmate of man,
+and takes a natural joy in being so whenever we will allow
+it,--whenever we will give her scope for her actions, freedom for her
+intelligence, and trust for her instincts. But for the present many of
+us still prefer to play savage,--the complete savage in low life,--the
+civilized savage in high. The complete savage is found in the dockyard
+labourer, who makes a woman bear his children and then kicks her to
+death,--the savage in high life is the man who equally kills the mother
+of his children, but in another way, namely, by neglect and infidelity,
+while he treats his numerous mistresses just as the Turk treats the
+creatures of his harem--merely as so many pretty soft animals,
+requiring to be fed with sweets and ornamented with jewels, and then to
+be cast aside when done with. All pure savagery! But we are slowly
+evolving from it into something better. A few of us there are, who
+honour womanhood,--a few of us believe in women as guiding stars in our
+troubled sky,--a few of us would work and climb to greatness for love
+of the one woman we adore,--would conquer all obstacles,--ay, would die
+for her if need be, of what is far more difficult, would live for her
+the life of a hero and martyr! Yes--such things are done,--and men can
+be found who will do such things--all for a woman's sake."
+
+There was a wonderful passion in his voice,--a deep thrill of
+earnestness which carried conviction with sweetness. Cardinal Bonpre
+looked at him with a smile.
+
+"You are perhaps one of those men, Mr. Leigh?" he said.
+
+"I do not know,--I may be," responded Leigh, a flush rising to his
+cheeks;--"but,--so far, no woman has ever truly loved me, save my
+mother. But apart from all personalities, I am a great believer in
+women. The love of a good woman is a most powerful lever to raise man
+to greatness,--I do not mean by 'good' the goody-goody creature,--no,
+for that is a sort of woman who does more mischief in her so-called
+'blameless' life than a very Delilah. I mean by 'good', a strong, pure,
+great soul in woman,--sincere, faithful, patient, full of courage and
+calm,--and with this I maintain she must prove a truly God-given
+helpmate to man. For we are rough creatures at best,--irritable
+creatures too!--you see," and here a slight smile lighted up his
+delicate features, "we really do try more or less to reach heights that
+are beyond us--we are always fighting for a heaven of some sort,
+whether we make it of gold, or politics, or art;--it is a 'heaven' or a
+'happiness' that we want;--we would be as gods,--we would scale
+Olympus,--and sometimes Olympus refuses to be scaled! And then we
+tumble down, very cross, very sore, very much ruffled;--and it is only
+a woman who can comfort us then, and by her love and tenderness mend
+our broken limbs and put salve on our wounded pride."
+
+"Well, then, surely the Church is in a very bad way," said Vergniaud
+smiling, "Think of the vow of perpetual celibacy!"
+
+"Celibacy cannot do away with woman's help or influence," said Leigh,
+"There are always mothers and sisters, instead of sweethearts and
+wives. I am in favour of celibacy for the clergy. I think a minister of
+Christ should be free to work for and serve Christ only."
+
+"You are quite right, Mr. Leigh;" said the Cardinal, "There is more
+than enough to do in every day of our lives if we desire to truly
+follow His commands. But in this present time, alas!--religion is
+becoming a question of form--not of heart."
+
+"Dearest uncle, if you think that, you will not judge me too severely
+for my pictures," said Angela quickly, throwing herself on her knees
+beside him. "Do you not see? It is just because the ministers of Christ
+are so lax that I have taken to studying them in my way,--which is, I
+know, not your way;--still, I think we both mean one and the same
+thing!"
+
+"You are a woman, Angela," said the Cardinal gently, "and as a woman
+you must be careful of offences--"
+
+"Oh, a woman!" exclaimed Angela, her beautiful eyes flashing with
+mingled tenderness and scorn, and her whole face lighting up with
+animation, "Only a woman! SHE must not give a grand lesson to the
+world! SHE must not, by means of brush or pen, point out to a corrupt
+generation the way it is going! Why? Because God has created her to be
+the helpmate of man! Excellent reason! Man is taking a direct straight
+road to destruction, and she must not stop him by so much as lifting a
+warning finger! Again, why? Only because she is a woman! But I--were I
+twenty times a woman, twenty times weaker than I am, and hampered by
+every sort of convention and usage,--I would express my thoughts
+somehow, or die in the attempt!"
+
+"BRAVISSIMA!" exclaimed Vergniaud, "Well said, chere Sovrani!--Well
+said! But I am the mocking demon always, as you know--and I should
+almost be tempted to say that you WILL die in the attempt! I do not
+mean that you will die physically,--no, you will probably live to a
+good old age; people who suffer always do!--but you will die in the
+allegorical sense. You will grow the stigmata of the Saviour in your
+hands and feet--you will bear terrible marks of the nails hammered into
+your flesh by your dearest friends! You will have to wear a crown of
+thorns, set on your brows no doubt by those whom you most love . . .
+and the vinegar and gall will be very quickly mixed and offered to you
+by the whole world of criticism without a moment's hesitation! And will
+probably have to endure your agony alone,--as nearly everyone runs away
+from a declared Truth, orif they pause at all, it is only to spit upon
+it and call it a Lie!"
+
+"Do not prophesy so cruel a fate for the child!" said the Cardinal
+tenderly, taking Angela's hand and drawing her towards him. "She has a
+great gift,--I am sure she will use it greatly. And true greatness is
+always acknowledged in the end."
+
+"Yes, when the author or the artist has been in the grave for a hundred
+years or more;" said Vergniaud incorrigibly. "I am not sure that it
+would not be better for Donna Sovrani's happiness to marry the amiable
+Florian Varillo at once rather than paint her great picture! Do you not
+agree with me, Mr. Leigh?"
+
+Leigh was turning over an old volume of prints in a desultory and
+abstracted fashion, but on being addressed, looked up quickly.
+
+"I would rather not presume to give an opinion," he said somewhat
+coldly, "It is only on the rarest occasions that a woman's life is
+balanced between love and fame,--and the two gifts are seldom bestowed
+together. She generally has to choose between them. If she accepts love
+she is often compelled to forego fame, because she merges herself too
+closely into the existence of another to stand by her own
+individuality. If on the other hand, she chooses fame, men are
+generally afraid of or jealous of her, and leave her to herself. Donna
+Sovrani, however, is a fortunate exception,--she has secured both
+fame--and love."
+
+He hesitated a moment before saying the last words, and his brows
+contracted a little. But Angela did not see the slight cloud of
+vexation that darkened his eyes,--his words pleased her, and she smiled.
+
+"Ah, Mr. Leigh sees how it is with me!" she said, "He knows what good
+cause I have to be happy and to do the best work that is in me! It is
+all to make Florian proud of me!--and he IS proud--and he will be
+prouder! You must just see this one more sketch taken from life,--it is
+the head of one of our most noted surgeons,--I call it for the present
+'A Vivisectionist'."
+
+It was a wonderful study,--perhaps the strongest of the three she had
+shown. It was the portrait of a thin, fine, intellectual face, which in
+its every line suggested an intense, and almost dreadful curiosity. The
+brows were high, yet narrow,--the eyes clear and cold, and pitiless in
+their straight regard,--the lips thin and compressed,--the nose
+delicate, with thin open nostrils, like those of a trained sleuth-hound
+on the scent of blood. It was a three-quarter-length picture, showing
+the hand of the man slightly raised, and holding a surgeon's knife,--a
+wonderful hand, rather small, with fingers that are generally termed
+"artistic"--and a firm wrist, which Angela had worked at patiently,
+carefully delineating the practised muscles employed and developed in
+the vivisectiomst's ghastly business.
+
+Aubrey Leigh stood contemplating it intently.
+
+"I think it is really the finest of all the types," he said presently,
+"One can grasp that man's character so thoroughly! There is no pity in
+him,--no sentiment--there is merely an insatiable avidity to break open
+the great treasure-house of Life by fair means or foul! It is very
+terrible--but very powerful."
+
+"I know the man," said Abbe Vergniaud, "Did he sit to you willingly?"
+
+"Very willingly indeed!" replied Angela, "He was quite amused when I
+told him frankly that I wanted him as a type of educated and refined
+cruelty."
+
+"Oh, these fellows see nothing reprehensible in their work," said
+Leigh, "And such things go on among them as make the strongest man sick
+to think of! I know of two cases now in a hospital; the patients are
+incurable, but the surgeons have given them hope of recovery through an
+'operation' which, however, in their cases, will be no 'operation' at
+all, but simply vivisection. The poor creatures have to die anyhow, it
+is true, but death might come to them less terribly,--the surgeons,
+however, will 'operate', and kill them a little more quickly, in order
+to grasp certain unknown technicalities of their disease."
+
+Angela looked at him with wide-open eyes of pain and amazement.
+
+"Horrible!" she murmured, "Absolutely horrible! Can nothing be done to
+interfere with, or to stop such cruelty?"
+
+"Nothing, I fear," said Leigh, "I have been abroad some time, studying
+various 'phases', of its so-called intellectual and scientific life,
+and have found many of these phases nothing but an output of masked
+barbarity. The savages of Thibet are more pitiful than the French or
+Italian vivisectionist,--and the horrors that go on in the laboratories
+would not be believed if they were told. Would not be believed! They
+would be flatly denied, even by the men who are engaged in them! And
+were I to write a plain statement of what I know to be true, and send
+it to an English journal, it would not be put in, not even in support
+of the Anti-Vivisection Society, lest it might 'offend' the foreign
+schools of surgery, and also perhaps lest English schools might prove
+not altogether free from similar crimes. If, however, by chance, such a
+statement were published, it would be met with an indignant chorus of
+denial from every quarter of accusation! How, then, can justice be
+obtained from what I call the New Inquisition? The old-time Inquisitors
+tortured their kind for Religion's sake,--the modern ones do it in the
+name of Science,--but the inhumanity, the callousness, the inborn
+savage love of cruelty--are all the same in both instances."
+
+Cardinal Bonpre shuddered as he heard.
+
+"Lord Christ, where art thou!" he thought, "Where is Thy spirit of
+unfailing tenderness and care? How is Thy command of 'love one another'
+obeyed!" Aloud he said, "Surely such deeds, even in the cause of
+surgical science, ought not to be permitted in a Christian city?"
+
+"Christian city!" and Vergniaud laughed, "You would not apply that
+designation to Paris, would you? Paris is hopelessly, riotously
+pagan;--nay, not even pagan, for the pagans had gods and Paris has
+none! Neither Jove--nor Jupiter--nor Jehovah! As for the Christ,--He is
+made the subject of many a public caricature,--yes!--you may see them
+in the side-streets pasted upon the walls and hoardings!--and also of
+many a low lampoon;--but He is not accepted as a Teacher, nor even as
+an Example. His reign is over, in Paris at least!"
+
+"Stop!" said the Cardinal, rising suddenly, "I forbid you, Vergniaud,
+to tell me these things! If they are true, then shame upon you and upon
+all the clergy of this unhappy city to stand by and let such disgrace
+to yourselves, and blasphemy to our Master, exist without protest!"
+
+His tall spare figure assumed a commanding grandeur and authority,--his
+pale face flushed and his eyes sparkled--he looked inspired--superb--a
+very apostle burning with righteous indignation. His words seemed to
+have the effect of an electric shock on the Abbe,--he started as though
+stung by the lash of a whip, and drew himself up haughtily . . . then
+meeting the Cardinal's straight glance, his head drooped, and he stood
+mute and rigid. Leigh, though conscious of embarrassment as the witness
+of a strong reproof administered by one dignitary of the Church to
+another, yet felt deeply interested in the scene,--Angela shrank back
+trembling,--and for a few moments which, though so brief, seemed
+painfully long, there was a dead silence. Then Verginaud spoke in low
+stifled accents.
+
+"You are perfectly right, Monseigneur! It IS shame to me!--and to the
+priesthood of France! I am no worse than the rest of my class,--but I
+am certainly no better! Your reproach is grand,--and just! I accept it,
+and ask your pardon!"
+
+He bent one knee, touched the Cardinal's ring with his lips, and then
+without another word turned and left the room. The Cardinal gazed after
+his retreating figure like a man in a dream, then he said gently,
+
+"Angela, go after him!--Call him back!--"
+
+But it was too late. Vergniaud had left the house before Angela could
+overtake him. She came back hurriedly to say so, with a pale face and
+troubled look. Her uncle patted her kindly on the shoulder.
+
+"Well, well!--It will not hurt him to have seen me angry," he said
+smiling, "Anger in a just cause is permitted. I seem to have frightened
+you, Angela? Of a truth I have rather frightened myself! There, we will
+not talk any more of the evils of Paris. Mr. Leigh perhaps thinks me an
+intolerant Christian?"
+
+"On the contrary I think you are one of the few 'faithful' that I have
+ever met," said Leigh, "Of course I am out of it in a way, because I do
+not belong to the Roman Church. I am supposed--I say 'supposed'
+advisedly--to be a Church of England man, or to put it more
+comprehensively, a Protestant, and I certainly am so much of the latter
+that I protest against all our systems altogether!"
+
+"Is that quite just?" asked Bonpre gently.
+
+"Perhaps not!--but what is one to do? I am not alone in my ideas! One
+of our English bishops has been latterly deploring the fact that out of
+a thousand lads in a certain parish nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine of
+them never go to church! Well, what can you expect? I do not blame
+those nine-hundred and-ninety-nine at all. I am one with them. _I_
+never go to church."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Simply because I never find any touch of the true Spirit of Christ
+there--and the whole tone of the place makes me feel distinctly
+un-Christian. The nine-hundred-and-ninety-nine youths possibly would
+sympathise with me. A church is a building more or less beautiful or
+ugly as the case may be, and in the building there is generally a man
+who reads prayers in a sing-song tone of voice, and perhaps another man
+who preaches without eloquence on some text which he utterly fails to
+see the true symbolical meaning of. There are no Charles Kingsleys
+nowadays,--if there were, I should call myself a 'Kingsleyite'. But as
+matters stand I am not moved by the church to feel religious. I would
+rather sit quietly in the fields and hear the gentle leaves whispering
+their joys and thanksgivings above my head, than listen to a human
+creature who has not even the education to comprehend the simplest
+teachings of nature, daring to assert himself as a teacher of the
+Divine. My own chief object in life has been and still is to speak on
+this and similar subjects to the people who are groping after lost
+Christianity. They need helping, and I want to try in my way to help
+them."
+
+"Groping after lost Christianity!" echoed the Cardinal, "Those words
+are a terrible indictment, Mr. Leigh!"
+
+"Yet in your own soul your Eminence admits it to be true," returned
+Leigh quickly,--"I can see the admission in your eyes,--in the very
+expression of your face! You feel in yourself that the true spirit of
+Christ is lacking in all the churches of the present day,--that the
+sheep are straying for lack of the shepherd, and that the wolf is in
+the fold! You know it,--you feel it,--you see it!"
+
+Cardinal Bonpre's head drooped.
+
+"God help me and forgive me, I am afraid I do!" he said sorrowfully. "I
+see the shadow of the storm before it draws nigh,--I feel the terror of
+the earthquake before it shakes down the edifice! No, the world is not
+with Christ to-day!--and unhappily it is a fact that Christ's ministers
+in recent years have done more to sever Him from Humanity than any
+other power could ever have succeeded in doing. Not by action, but by
+inertia!--dumbness--lack of protest,--lack of courage! Only a few stray
+souls stand out firm and fair in the chaos,--only a few!"
+
+"'I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot,--I would thou
+wert cold or hot! So because thou art lukewarm and neither cold nor hot
+I will spew thee out of my mouth!'" quoted Leigh, his eyes flashing and
+his voice trembling with repressed earnestness, "That is the trouble
+all through! Apathy,--dead, unproductive apathy and laissez-faire!--Ah,
+I believe there are some of us living now who are destined to see
+strange and terrible things in this new century!"
+
+"For myself," said the Cardinal slowly, "I think there is not much time
+left us! I feel a premonition of Divine wrath threatening the world,
+and when I study the aspect of the times and see the pride,
+licentiousness, and wealth-worship of men, I cannot but think the days
+are drawing near when our Master will demand of us account of our
+service. It is just the same as in the case of the individual
+wrong-doer, when it seems as if punishment were again and again
+retarded, and mercy shown,--yet if all benefits, blessings and warnings
+are unheeded, then at last the bolt falls suddenly and with terrific
+effect. So with nations--so with churches--so with the world!"
+
+His voice grew feeble, and his eyes were clouded with pain.
+
+"You are fatigued," said Leigh gently, "And I ought not to have stayed
+so long. I will bid you farewell now. If I am in Rome when you are
+there, I trust you will permit me to pay my respects to you?"
+
+"It will be a pleasure to see you, my son," answered the Cardinal,
+pressing his hand and courteously preventing him from making the formal
+genuflection, "And let me add that it will help me very much to hear
+from you what progress you make in your intention of working for
+Christ. For,--when you speak to the people as a teacher, it is in His
+name, is it not?"
+
+"In His name, and I pray in His spirit," said Leigh, "But not through
+any church."
+
+The Cardinal sighed, but said no more, and Leigh turned to Angela.
+
+"Good-bye," he said, "I may come and see the picture in Rome?"
+
+"You may indeed," and Angela gave him her hand in frank friendliness,
+"I shall feel the necessity of your criticism and the value of your
+opinion."
+
+He looked at her intently for a moment.
+
+"Be of good courage," he then said in a low tone, "'Work out your own
+salvation', it is the only way! Fulfil the expression of your whole
+heart and soul and mind, and never heed what opposing forces may do to
+hinder you. You are so clear-brained, so spiritually organised, that I
+cannot imagine your doing anything that shall not create a power for
+good. You are sometimes inclined to be afraid of the largeness of your
+own conceptions in the picture you are dreaming of,--I can see
+that,--but do not fear! The higher influences are with you and in
+you;--give yourself up to them with absolute confidence! Good-bye--God
+bless you!" He stooped and kissed her hand,--then left the room.
+
+Angela looked after him, and a half sigh escaped her lips
+unconsciously. The Cardinal watched her with rather a troubled look.
+After a little silence he said,
+
+"You must pardon me, my child, if I seemed over hasty in my judgment of
+your work . . ."
+
+"Dearest uncle, do not speak of it!" exclaimed Angela, "You were pained
+and sorry to see such a 'servant of Christ' as the type I chose,--you
+could not help expressing your feeling--it was natural . . ."
+
+"Yes, I was vexed,--I own it!--" went on Bonpre, "For I know many
+priests, poor, patient, simple men, who do their best for our Lord
+according to their measure and capability,--men who deserve all honour,
+all love, all respect, for the integrity of their lives,--still--I am
+aware that these are in the minority, and that men of the kind your
+sketch depicts, compose alas!--the majority. There is a frightful
+preponderance of evil influences in the world! Industry, and commerce,
+and science have advanced, and yet a noble and upright standard of
+conduct among men is sadly lacking. Men are seeking for happiness in
+Materialism, and find nothing but satiety and misery,--satiety and
+misery which become so insupportable that very often suicide presents
+itself as the only way out of such a tangle of wretchedness! Yes,
+child!--all this is true--and if you think you have a lesson to give
+which will be useful in these dark days, no one,--I least of
+all--should presume to hinder you from giving it. Still, remember that
+the results of work are not with the worker to determine--they rest
+with God."
+
+"Truly I hope they do," said Angela fervently, "For then all bad work
+will pass away and only the good and necessary remain."
+
+"That always is the rule," said the Cardinal, "No criticism can kill
+good work or vivify bad. So be happy, Angela mia! Paint your great
+picture with courage and hope--I will neither judge nor condemn, and if
+the world's verdict should be cruel, mine shall be kind!"
+
+He smiled and stroked her soft hair, then taking her arm he leaned upon
+it affectionately as they left the studio together.
+
+
+
+
+X.
+
+The next day, and the next after that, were passed by the Cardinal in
+gratifying a certain eagerness shown by his young foundling, Manuel, to
+see the churches and great public buildings of Paris. The boy had a
+quiet, straightforward way of expressing his wishes and opinions, and a
+certain marked individuality in his manner--in fact, so simple and
+straight were his words, and so much to the point, that they sometimes
+caused confusion to his hearers. Once or twice he gave offence, as for
+example, on visiting a great church where there were numerous jewelled
+relics and priceless treasures of old lace and embroidery, when he said
+suddenly:
+
+"There is a woman just outside the door, very ill and poor, with two
+little starving children;--would it not be well to sell some of the
+jewels here and give her the money?"
+
+The custodian looked amazed, and the attendant priest who was escorting
+Cardinal Bonpre through the building, frowned.
+
+"The treasures of the Church are not to be sold," he said curtly. "The
+beggar outside is no doubt a trained hypocrite."
+
+"Christ would not say so," answered Manuel softly,--"He would not, even
+if He knew her to be a hypocrite, retain anything of value for Himself,
+if by giving it to her, He could ease her pain and poverty. I cannot
+understand why the Church should keep jewels."
+
+"That is because you are ignorant," said the priest roughly.
+
+Manuel raised his grave blue eyes and fixed them steadily upon him.
+
+"That may be," he said, "Yet I think it is nowhere written in the
+Gospel that Christ cared for the world's wealth or the world's
+possessions. When they are offered to Him did he not say, 'Get thee
+behind me, Satan'! The only gem he prized was the 'pearl of great
+price,'--the pure and perfect human soul."
+
+"The Church is the manufactory of those pearls," said the priest, with
+something between a grin and a sneer.
+
+"Then the Church needs no other jewels" returned Manuel quietly, with a
+little gesture of his hand, "These glittering baubles you show, are out
+of place."
+
+The priest glanced him over with angry contempt. Then he said to the
+Cardinal,
+
+"Your Eminence will have trouble with that boy," he said. "His opinions
+are heretic."
+
+The Cardinal smiled a little.
+
+"You think so? Nay, there is something of truth in what he says,
+notwithstanding his simplicity of utterance, which is not perhaps in
+accordance with convention. I confess that I share his opinions
+somewhat. Certainly I esteem myself happy that in my far-off diocese
+there are none of the world's precious things, but only the unprized
+prayers of the faithful."
+
+The priest said nothing in reply,--but he was conscious of discomfort
+and uneasiness, and hurried through the rest of his duties with an
+ill-grace, annoyed, though he knew not why, by the very presence of
+Manuel. The boy, however, paid no heed to his angry glances, and noted
+everything in his own quiet meditative way,--a way which was a
+singularly winning one, graced as it was by an almost scholarly
+thoughtfulness united to the charm of youth. Once, before a magnificent
+priest's garment of lace, he paused, and touched the substance lightly.
+
+"See," he said softly, looking wistfully up in the Cardinal's face,
+"See all the leaves and rosebuds worked in, this by the needle,--and
+think how many human eyes have strained at it, and grown dull and blind
+over it! If one could only believe that the poor eyes were comforted at
+all in the following of the difficult thread!--but no,--the sunshine
+must have lessened and the days grown darker and darker, till death
+came and gently shut up the lids of the tired orbs of earthy vision,
+and opened those of the soul to Light indeed! This work speaks with a
+thousand tongues! I can hear them!
+Torture,--poverty,--pain,--pitilessness,--long hours,--scant
+reward,--tired fingers,--weary hearts!--and a priest of Christ wears
+this to perform Christ's service! Clad in a garment of human suffering,
+to preach mercy! Is it not strange?"
+
+"You think too deeply, my child," said the Cardinal, moved by the
+tender pity in Manual's voice, "Nothing is accomplished without pain in
+this world,--our dear Lord Himself suffered pain."
+
+"True," said Manuel, "But His pain was endured that there might be less
+of it for others! He asked His children in this world to love one
+another for His sake--not to grind each other down! Not to make
+unnecessary hardships for each other! But it seems as if He had asked
+in vain!"
+
+He was silent after this, and refrained from remark even when, during
+their visit to Notre Dame, the treasury was unlocked for the Cardinal's
+inspection, and the relics formerly contained in the now disused
+"Sainte Chapelle," were shown,--including the fragments of the "crown
+of thorns," and a nail from the "true cross." The Cardinal was silent
+too. He had no remark to offer on these obvious "imaginations" of the
+priesthood. Then they went up together to the platform on the summit of
+the Cathedral, and looked at the great bell known as the "Bourdon de
+Notre Dame";--and here they found a little wizened old man sitting
+carelessly on the edge of a balustrade, in a seemingly very dangerous
+position, who nodded and smiled familiarly as they appeared. He acted
+as cicerone of the summit of the North Tower, and was soon at their
+side explaining volubly all that was of interest.
+
+"Tired,--oh yes, one gets tired!" he admitted, in response to a query
+from the Cardinal as to whether he did not find his duties fatiguing at
+his age, "But after all, I like the griffins and dragons and devils'
+faces up here, better than the griffins and dragons and devils down
+there,--below on the Boulevards! I call this Heaven, and down there in
+the streets, Hell. Yes, truly! It is wholesome up here,--the sky seems
+very near, and the sculptured beasts do no harm. But down in the
+streets one feels and smells the dirt and danger directly. I sit here
+all by myself for hours thinking, when no one comes to visit the
+tower,--for sometimes a whole day passes and no one wishes to ascend.
+And there is a moral in that, Monseigneur, if one has eyes to see
+it;--days pass, years, in the world,--and no one wishes to ascend!--to
+Heaven, I mean!--to go down to Hell is delightful, and everyone is
+ready for it! It is at night that the platform here is most
+beautiful,--oh yes, at night it is very fine, Monseigneur!--but it is
+only madmen and dreamers who call me up in the night hours, yet when
+they do I never refuse to go with them, for look you, I am a light
+sleeper and have no wife to bid me keep my bed. Yes,--if the
+authorities knew that I took anybody up to the tower at night they
+would probably dismiss me," and he chuckled like an old schoolboy with
+a sense of his own innate mischief and disobedience, "But you see they
+do not know! And I learn a great deal from the strange persons who come
+at night,--much more than from the strange persons who come by day.
+Now, the last so strange person that came here by night--you would not
+perhaps believe it, Monseigneur, but it was a priest! Yes," and the old
+fellow laughed, "a priest who had suddenly found out that the Church
+was not following its Master! Yes, yes! . . . just fancy killing
+himself for that!"
+
+"Killing himself!" cried the Cardinal, "What do you mean?"
+
+"You would like to hear the story?--ah, take care, mon ange!" he cried,
+as he perceived Manuel standing lightly near the brink of the platform,
+and stretching out his arms towards the city, "Thou art not a bird to
+fly from that edge in the air! What dost thou see?"
+
+"Paris!" replied the boy in strangely sorrowful accents, turning his
+young, wistful face towards the Cardinal, his hair blown back in the
+light wind, "All Paris!"
+
+"Ah!--'tis a fine sight, all Paris!" said the old guide--"one of the
+finest in the world, to judge by the outside of it. But the inside is a
+very different matter; and if Paris is not a doomed city, then there is
+no God, and I know nothing of the Bible. It has got all the old sins in
+a new shape, and revels in them. And of the story of the priest, if you
+would hear it;--ah!--that is well!" he said, as Manuel left the giddy
+verge of the platform where he had been standing, and drew near. "It is
+safer to be away from that edge, my child! And for the poor priest, it
+happened in this way,--it was a fair night, and the moon was high--I
+was dozing off in a chair in my room below, when the bell rang quickly,
+yet softly. I got up with pleasure, for I said to myself, 'here is an
+artist or a poet,--one of those persons who are unlike anyone
+else'--just as I am myself unlike anyone else--'and so we two shall
+have a pleasant evening.' But when I opened the door there was no one
+but a priest, and poor-looking even at that; and he was young and pale,
+and very uneasy in his manner, and he said to me, 'Jean Lapui'--(that
+is my name)--'let me pass up to the platform.' 'Willingly,' said I, 'if
+I may go with you.' 'Nay, I would rather be alone,' he answered. 'That
+may not be,' I told him, 'I am as pleased to see the moonbeams shining
+on the beasts and devils as any man,--and I shall do you no harm by my
+company.' Well, he agreed to have me then, and up we went the three
+hundred and seventy-eight steps,--(it is a long way, Monseigneur;--)and
+he mounted quickly, I slowly,--but always keeping my eye upon him. At
+last we reached this platform, and the moonlight was beautiful, and
+clear as day. Then my little priest sat down and began to laugh. 'Ha,
+my Lapui!' he said, 'Is it not droll that this should be all a lie! All
+this fine building, and all the other fine buildings of the kind in
+Paris! Strange, my Lapui, is it not, that this Cathedral should be
+raised to the worship of a God whom no one obeys, or even thinks of
+obeying! All show, my good Lapui! All to feed priests like me, and keep
+them going--but God has nothing to do with it--nothing at all, I swear
+to you!'--'You may be right, mon reverend,' I said, (for I saw he was
+not in a mood to be argued with)--"Yet truly the Cathedral has not
+always been a place of holiness. In seventeen ninety-three there was
+not much of our Lord or the blessed Saints in it.' 'No, you are right,
+Lapui!' he cried, 'Down came the statue of the Virgin, and up went the
+statue of Liberty! There was the crimson flare of the Torch of
+Truth!--and the effigies of the ape Voltaire and the sensualist
+Rousseau, took the places of St. Peter and St. Paul! Ha!--And they
+worshipped the goddess of Reason--Reason, impersonated by Maillard the
+ballet-dancer! True to the life, my Lapui!--that kind of worship has
+lasted in Paris until now!--it goes on still--Reason,--man's idea of
+Reason,--impersonated by a ballet dancer! Yes,--the shops are full of
+that goddess and her portraits, Jean Lapui! And the jewellers can
+hardly turn out sufficient baubles to adorn her shrine!' He laughed
+again, and I took hold of him by the arm. 'See here, petit pere,' I
+said, 'I fancy all is not well with you.' 'You are right,' he answered,
+'all is very ill!' 'Then will you not go home and to bed?' I asked him.
+'Presently--presently;' he said, 'if I may tell you something first!'
+'Do so by all means, reverend pere,' said I, and I sat down near him.
+'It is just this, Lapui,' and he drew out a crucifix from his breast
+and looked at it very earnestly, 'I am a priest, as you see; and this
+symbol represents my faith. My mother told me that to be a priest and
+to serve God was the highest happiness that could befall a man. I
+believed it,--and when I look at the stars up there crowding around us
+in such vast circles,--when I look at all this moonlight and the
+majesty of creation around me, I believe it still! Up here, it seems
+there MAY be a God; down there,' and he pointed towards the streets, 'I
+know there is a devil! But I have discovered that it is no use telling
+the people about God, because they do not believe in Him. They think I
+am telling them a lie because it is my metier to tell lies. And also
+because they think I have neither the sense nor the ability to do
+anything else. They know they are telling lies themselves all day and
+every day. Some of them pretend to believe, because they think it best
+to be on the safe side even by feigning,--and they are the worst
+hypocrites. It drives me mad, Lapui, to perform Mass for liars! If it
+were only unbelievers! but liars!--liars! Liars who lie on their
+death-beds, telling me with mock sighs of penitence that they believe
+in God when they do not! I had a dream last night--you shall tell me if
+I was mistaken in it,--it was a dream of this very tower of Notre Dame.
+I was up here as I am now--and the moonlight was around me as it is
+now--and I thought that just behind the wing of that third angel's head
+carved yonder--do you see?' and he got up and made me get up too, and
+turned me round with his hand on my shoulder--'a white dove had made
+its resting-place. Is there a white dove there, Lapui? If there is I
+shall be a happy man and all my griefs will be at an end! Will you go
+and look--and tell me if there is a white dove nestling there? Then I
+will say good-night to you and go home.' God forgive me!--I thought to
+humor him in his fancy, and so I left him to walk those five
+steps--only five at the utmost--and see if perhaps among the many doves
+that fly about the towers, it might not be that a white one, as he
+said, should have chosen to settle in the place he pointed out to me,
+'for,' thought I, 'he will be quiet then and satisfied.' And like a
+blind fool I went--and when I came back the platform was empty!--Ah,
+Monseigneur!--he had said good-night indeed, and gone home!"
+
+"You mean that he flung himself from this parapet?" said Bonpre, in a
+low, horrified tone.
+
+"That was the way of it, Monseigneur," said Lapui
+commiseratingly,--"His body was found next day crushed to bits on the
+pavement below; but somehow no one troubled much about it, or thought
+he had thrown himself from the tower of Notre Dame. It was said that he
+had been murdered and thrown out of a window, but nobody knew how or
+when. Of course I could have spoken, but then I should have got into
+trouble. And I avoid trouble whenever I can. A very strange thing it is
+that no one has ever been suspected of leaping from Notre Dame into the
+next world since Victor Hugo's great story was written. 'It is against
+the rules,' say the authorities, 'to mount the towers at night.' True,
+but rules are not always kept. Victor Hugo's 'Quasimodo,' who never
+lived, is the only person the wiseacres associate with such a deed. And
+I,--I could tell many a strange story; only it is better to be silent!
+Life is hard living,--and when a priest of the Church feels there is no
+God in this world, why what is there left for him except to try and
+find out if there is in the next?"
+
+"Suicide is not the way to find Heaven," said the Cardinal gravely.
+
+"Maybe not,--maybe not," and the old custodian turned to lead the way
+down the steps of the tower, "But when the brain is gone all through
+grief at losing God, it may chance that God sees the conditions of
+things, and has mercy. Events happen in this world of such a kind as to
+make anyone who is not a saint, doubt the sense as well as the goodness
+of the Creator,--of course that is a wicked thing to say, for we make
+our own evils, no doubt--"
+
+"That is very certain," said the Cardinal, "The unhappy man you have
+told me of should have trusted God to the end, whether those whom he
+preached to, believed his message or not. Their conduct was not his
+business,--his task was to declare, and not to judge."
+
+"Now that is very well put!" and the old man paused on the stairway and
+looked round approvingly. "Of course that is said as only a wise man
+could say it, for after all, Christ Himself did not judge any one in
+any case. He came to save us all, not to punish us."
+
+"Then why does not everyone remember that, and try to save one another
+rather than to condemn?" asked Manuel suddenly.
+
+They had reached the bottom of the tower stairway, and old Jean Lapui,
+shading his eyes from the glare of the daylight with one wrinkled hand,
+looked at the boy with a smile of compassionate interest.
+
+"Why does not everyone remember? Why does not everyone do as He did?
+Ah, that is a question! You are young, and you will find out many
+answers to it before you are much older. One fact is sure,--that if
+everybody did remember Him and lived exactly as He wished, we should
+have a new Heaven and a new Earth; and I will tell you something else,"
+and the old fellow looked sly and mischievous, "No offence meant--no
+offence!--but there would be no churches and no priests! Believe me, I
+speak the truth! But this would be a great happiness; and is not to be
+our portion yet! Good-day, Monseigneur!--A thousand pardons for my
+wicked speech! Good-day!"
+
+"Good-day!" responded the Cardinal gently, "Be careful of your night
+visitors, my friend! Do not for the future leave them alone to plunge
+into the Infinite without a warning!"
+
+The old man smiled deprecatingly.
+
+"Truly, Monseigneur, I am generally careful. I do not know when I have
+spoken so freely to anyone as I have to you; for I am generally in a
+bad humour with all Church dignitaries,--and of course I know you for a
+Cardinal by your dress, while you might truly be a saint from your
+manner;--so I should have held my tongue about the flight into the air
+of the little priest. But you will say nothing, for you are discreet;
+and even if you did, and I were asked about it, I should know nothing.
+Oh, yes, I can tell lies as fast as anybody else!--Yes, truly! I do not
+suppose anyone, not even an Archbishop himself, could surpass me in
+lying!"
+
+"And are you not ashamed to lie?" asked Bonpre, with an intense
+vibration of pain in his voice as he put the question.
+
+"Heaven bless you, no, Monseigneur!" replied Lapui cheerfully, "For is
+not the whole world kept going by lies? Dear me, if we all told the
+truth there would be an end of everything! I am a philosopher in my
+way, Monseigneur,--and I assure you that a real serious truth told in
+Paris without any gloss upon it, would be like an earthquake in the
+city,--great houses would come down and numbers of people would be
+killed by it! Good-day, Monseigneur!--Good-day."
+
+And still smiling and chuckling, the custodian of the North tower
+retired into his den there to await fresh visitors. The Cardinal walked
+slowly to the corner of the street where his carriage awaited him,--his
+head bent and his eyes downcast; Manuel stepped lightly along beside
+him, glancing at his pale face from time to time with a grave and
+tender compassion. When they were seated in the vehicle and driving
+homewards the boy spoke gently--
+
+"You grieve too much for others, dear friend! You are now distressed
+because you have heard the story of one unhappy man who sought to find
+God by self-destruction, and you are pained also lest another man
+should lose God altogether by the deliberate telling of lies. All such
+mistakes and follies of the world weigh heavily on your heart, but they
+should not do so,--for did not Christ suffer all this for you when He
+was crucified?"
+
+The Cardinal sighed deeply.
+
+"Yes, my child, but He told us plainly WHY He suffered. It was that we
+might learn to follow Him, and that there should be less suffering for
+the future. And surely we have not obeyed Him, or there could not be so
+much pain and difficulty in the world as there is now."
+
+"If He come again, you think He would be grieved and disappointed in
+His followers?" queried Manuel softly.
+
+"If He came again, I fear He would not find much of His teaching in any
+of the creeds founded on His name! If He came again, then indeed might
+the churches tremble, totter and fall!"
+
+"If He came again," pursued Manuel, still in the same soft, even voice,
+"how do you think He would come?"
+
+"'Watch ye therefore for ye know not when He cometh,'" murmured the
+Cardinal,--"My dear child, I think if He came again it would be
+perhaps in the disguise of one who is poor and friendless 'despised and
+rejected of men,' as when He first glorified the earth by His presence;
+and I fear that in such plight He would find Himself, as before,
+unwelcome."
+
+Manuel made no reply just then, as they had arrived at home. The
+servant who admitted them told them that Donna Sovrani had a visitor in
+her studio,--so that the Cardinal and his young attendant went straight
+to their own apartments.
+
+"Read to me, Manuel," then said Bonpre, seating himself near the
+window, and looking out dreamily on the rich foliage of the woods and
+grassy slopes that stretched before him, "Find something in the Gospels
+that will fit what we have seen to-day. I am tired of all these temples
+and churches!--these gorgeous tombs and reliquaries; they represent
+penances and thank-offerings no doubt, but to me they seem useless. A
+church should not be a shrine for worldly stuff, unless indeed such
+things are used again for the relief of poverty and suffering; but they
+are not used; they are simply kept under lock and key and allowed to
+accumulate,--while human creatures dwelling perhaps quite close to
+these shrines, are allowed to die of starvation. Did you think this
+when you spoke to the priest who was offended with you to-day?"
+
+"Yes, I thought it," replied Manuel gently, "But then he said I was a
+heretic. When one loves God better than the Church is one called a
+heretic?"
+
+Cardinal Bonpre looked earnestly at the boy's inspired face,--the face
+of a dreaming angel in its deep earnestness.
+
+"If so, then I am heretic," he answered slowly, "I love the Creator as
+made manifest to me in His works,--I love Him in every flower which I
+am privileged to look upon,--I find Him in every art and science,--I
+worship Him in a temple not made with hands,--His own majestic
+Universe! Above all churches,--above all formulated creeds and systems
+I love Him! And as declared in the divine humanity of Christ I believe
+in, and adore Him! If this makes me unworthy to be His priest and
+servant then I confess my unworthiness!"
+
+He had spoken these words more to himself than Manuel, and in his
+fervour had closed his eyes and clasped his hands,--and he almost
+fancied that a soft touch, light as a falling rose-leaf, had for a
+second rested on his brow. He looked up quickly, wondering whether it
+was Manuel who had so touched him,--the boy was certainly near
+him,--but was already seated with the Testament open ready to read as
+requested. The Cardinal raised himself in his chair,--a sense of
+lightness, and freedom, and ease, possessed him,--the hopeless and
+tired feeling which had a few minutes since weighed him down with an
+undefinable languor was gone,--and his voice had gained new strength
+and energy when he once more spoke.
+
+"You have found words of our Lord which will express what we have seen
+to-day?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," replied Manuel, and he read in a clear vibrating tone, "Woe unto
+you scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites; because ye build the tombs of
+the prophets and garnish the sepulchres of the righteous." Here he
+paused and said, while the Cardinal gazed at him wonderingly, "Is not
+that true of Paris? There is their great Pantheon where most of their
+prophets lie,--their poets and their teachers whom they wronged and
+slandered in their lifetime--"
+
+"My child," interrupted Bonpre gently, "Poets and so-called teachers
+are not always good men. One named Voltaire, who scoffed at God, and
+enunciated the doctrine of materialism in France, is buried there."
+
+"Nevertheless he also was a prophet," persisted Manuel, in his quiet,
+half-childlike, half-scholarly way, "A prophet of evil. He was the
+incarnation of the future spirit of Paris. He lived as a warning of
+what was to come,--a warning of the wolves that were ready to descend
+upon the Master's fold. But Paris was then perhaps in the care of those
+'hirelings' who are mentioned here as caring not for the sheep."
+
+He turned a few pages and continued reading.
+
+"'Well hath Esais prophesied of you, hypocrites, as it is written, This
+people honoureth me with their lips but their heart is far from me.
+Howbeit in vain do they worship me, TEACHING FOR DOCTRINE THE
+COMMANDMENTS OF MAN.'"
+
+He emphasised the last few words and looked up at the Cardinal, then he
+went on.
+
+"'Whosoever will come after me let him deny himself and take up his
+cross and follow me. For whosoever will save his life shall lose it,
+but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake the same shall save it.'"
+
+"Yes," said Cardinal Bonpre fervently, "It is all there!--'Whosoever
+will come after me let him deny himself,' LET HIM DENY HIMSELF! That is
+the secret of it. Self-denial! And this age is one of self-indulgence.
+We are on the wrong road, all of us, both Church and laity,--and if the
+Master should come He will not find us watching, but sleeping."
+
+He broke off, as at that moment a knock came at the door and a servant
+entered the room bringing him a letter. It was from the Abbe Vergniaud,
+and ran as follows:--
+
+"TRES CHER MONSIGNEUR! I preach the day after tomorrow at Notre Dame de
+Lorette, and if you wish to do a favour to a dying man you will come
+and hear me. I am moved to say things I have never said before, and it
+is possible I may astonish and perchance scandalise Paris. What
+inspires me I do not know,--perhaps your well-deserved reproach of the
+other day--perhaps the beautiful smile of the angel that dwells in
+Donna Sovrani's eyes,--perhaps the chance meeting with your Rouen
+foundling on the stairs as I was flying away from your just wrath. He
+had been gathering roses in the garden, and gave me one with a grace in
+the giving which made the flower valuable. It still lives and blooms in
+a glass on my writing-table at which I have been jotting down the notes
+of what I mean to say. WHAT I MEAN TO SAY! There is more in those words
+than there seems, if you could but guess all! I shall trust to the day
+itself for the necessary eloquence. The congregation that assembles at
+the Lorette is a curious and a mixed one. 'Artistes' of the stage and
+the cafe chantant are among the worshippers;--dames of rank and fashion
+who worship the male 'artistes,' and the golden youth of Paris who
+adore the very points of the shoes of the female ones,--are generally
+there also. It is altogether what 'perfide Albion,' or Dame Grundee
+would call a 'fast' audience. And the fact that I have arranged to
+preach there will draw a still greater mixture and 'faster' quality, as
+I am, alas!--a fashion in preachers. I pray you to come, or I shall
+think you have not forgiven me!
+
+"VERGNIAUD."
+
+Cardinal Bonpre folded the letter and put it aside with a curious
+feeling of compassion for the writer.
+
+"Yes, I will go," he thought, "I have never heard him preach, though I
+know by report that he is popular. I was told once that he seems to be
+possessed by a very demon of mockery, and that it is this spirit which
+makes his attraction for the people; but I hope it is something more
+than that--I hope--" Here interrupting his meditations he turned to
+Manuel.
+
+"So you gave the Abbe Vergniaud a rose the other day, my child?"
+
+"Yes," replied Manuel, "He looked sad when I met him,--and sometimes a
+flower gives pleasure to a person in sorrow."
+
+The Cardinal thought of his own roses far away, and sighed with a
+sensation of longing and homesickness.
+
+"Flowers are like visible messages from God," he said, "Messages
+written in all the brightest and loveliest colours! I never gather one
+without finding out that it has something to say to me."
+
+"There is a legend," said Manuel, "which tells how a poor girl who has
+lost every human creature she loved on earth, had a rose-tree she was
+fond of, and every day she found upon it just one bloom. And though she
+longed to gather the flower for herself she would not do so, but always
+placed it before the picture of the Christ. And God saw her do this, as
+He sees everything. At last, quite suddenly she died, and when she
+found herself in Heaven, there were such crowds and crowds of angels
+about her that she was bewildered, and could not find her way. All at
+once she saw a pathway edged with roses before her, and one of the
+angels said, 'These are all the roses you gave to our Lord on earth,
+and He has made them into a pathway for you which will lead you
+straight to those you love!' And so with great joy she followed the
+windings of the path, seeing her roses blossoming all the way, and she
+found all those whom she had loved and lost on earth waiting to welcome
+her at the end!"
+
+"A pretty fancy," said the Cardinal smiling, "And, as not even a
+thought is wasted, who knows if it might not prove true?"
+
+"Surely the beautiful must be the true always!" said Manuel.
+
+"Not so, my child,--a fair face may hide an evil soul."
+
+"But only for a little while," answered the boy, "The evil soul must
+leave its impress on the face in time, if life lasts long enough."
+
+"That is quite possible," said Bonpre, "In fact, I think it often
+happens,--only there are some people who simulate the outward show of
+goodness and purity perfectly, while inwardly 'they are as ravening
+wolves,' and they never seem to drop the mask. Others again--" Here he
+paused and looked anxiously at his young companion, "I wonder what you
+will be like when you grow up, Manuel!"
+
+"But if I never grow up, what then?" asked Manuel with a smile.
+
+"Never grow up? You mean--"
+
+"I mean if I die," said Manuel, "or pass through what is called dying
+before I grow up?"
+
+"God forbid!" said the Cardinal gently, "I would have you live--"
+
+"But why," persisted Manuel, "since death is a better life?"
+
+Bonpre looked at him wistfully.
+
+"But if you grow up and are good and great, you may be wanted in the
+world," he said.
+
+An expression of deep pain swept like a shadow across the boy's fair
+open brow.
+
+"Oh no!" he said quietly, "the world does not want me! And yet I love
+the world--not because it is a world, for there are millions upon
+millions of worlds,--they are as numerous as flowers in a garden--but
+because it is a sorrowful world,--a mistaken world,--and because all
+the creatures in it have something of God in them. Yes, I love the
+world!--but the world does not love me."
+
+He spoke in a tone of gentle pathos, with the resigned and patient air
+of one who feels the burden of solitude and the sense of
+miscomprehension. And closing the Testament he held he rested his
+clasped hands upon it, and for a moment seemed lost in sorrowful
+reverie.
+
+"I love you," said the Cardinal tenderly, "And I will take care of you
+as well as I can."
+
+Manuel looked up at him.
+
+"And that will be well indeed, my lord Cardinal!" he said softly, "And
+you serve a Master who will hereafter say to you, remembering your
+goodness,--'Verily, in asmuch as ye have done it unto the least of my
+brethren ye have done it unto Me.'"
+
+He smiled; and the Cardinal meeting his glance wondered whether it was
+the strong level light of the sinking sun through the window-pane that
+made such a glory shine upon his face, and gave such a brilliancy to
+his deep and steadfast eyes.
+
+
+
+
+XI.
+
+Meanwhile, Angela Sovrani was detained in her studio by the fascinating
+company and bewildering chatter of a charming and very well-known
+personage in Europe,--a dainty, exquisitely dressed piece of femininity
+with the figure of a sylph and the complexion of a Romney "Lady
+Hamilton,"--the Comtesse Sylvie Hermenstein, an Austro-Hungarian of the
+prettiest and most bewitching type, who being a thorough bohemienne in
+spirit, and having a large fortune at her disposal, travelled
+everywhere, saw everything, and spent great sums of money not only in
+amusing herself, but in doing good wherever she went. By society in
+general, she was voted "thoroughly heartless,"--when as a matter of
+fact she had too much heart, and gave her "largesse" of sympathy
+somewhat too indiscriminately. Poor people worshipped her,--the
+majority of the rich envied her because most of them had ties and she
+had none. She might have married scores of times, but she took a
+perverse pleasure in "drawing on" her admirers till they were just on
+the giddy brink of matrimony,--then darting off altogether she left
+them bewildered, confused, and not a little angry.
+
+"They tell me I cannot love, cara mia," she was saying now to Angela
+who sat in pleased silence, studying her form, her colouring, and her
+animated expression; with all the ardour of an artist who knows how
+difficult it is to catch the swift and variable flashes of beauty on
+the face of a pretty woman, who is intelligent as well as personally
+charming. "They tell me I have no heart at all. Me--Sylvie!--no heart!
+Helas!--I am all heart! But to love one of those stupid heavy men, who
+think that just to pull a moustache and smile is sufficient to make a
+conquest--ah, no!--not for me! Yet I am now in love!--truly!--ah, you
+laugh!--" and she laughed herself, shaking her pretty head, adorned
+with its delicate "creation" in gossamer and feathers, which was
+supposed to be a hat--"Yes, I am in love with the Marquis Fontenelle!
+Ah!--le beau Marquis! He is so extraordinary!--so beautiful!--so
+wicked! It must be that I love him, or why should I trouble myself
+about him?"
+
+She spread out her tiny gloved hands appealingly, with a delightful
+little shrug of her shoulders, and again Angela laughed.
+
+"He is good-looking, certainly," she said, "He is very like Miraudin.
+They might almost be brothers."
+
+"Miraudin, ce cher Miraudin!" exclaimed the Comtesse gaily, "The
+greatest actor in Europe! Yes, truly!--I go to the theatre to look at
+him and I almost fancy I am in love with him instead of Fontenelle,
+till I remember he stage-manages;--ah!--then I shudder!--and my shudder
+kills my love! After all it is only his resemblance to the Marquis that
+causes the love,--and perhaps the shudder!"
+
+"Sylvie, Sylvie!" laughed Angela, "Can you not be serious? What do you
+mean?"
+
+"I mean what I say," declared Sylvie, "Miraudin used to be the darling
+of all the sentimental old maids and little school-girls who did not
+know him off the stage. In Paris, in Rome, in Vienna, in
+Buda-Pesth--always a conqueror of ignorant women who saw him in his
+beautiful 'make-up'! Yes, he was perfectly delightful,--this big
+Miraudin, till he became his own manager and his own leading actor as
+well! Helas! What it is to be a manager! Do you know? It is to keep a
+harem like a grand Turk;--and woe betide the woman who joins the
+company without understanding that she is to be one of the many! The
+sultana is the 'leading lady'. Poor Miraudin!--he must have many little
+faggots to feed his flame! Oh, you look so shocked! But the Marquis is
+just like him,--he also stage-manages."
+
+"In what way?"
+
+"Ah, he has an enormous theatre,--the world! A big stage,--society! The
+harem is always being replenished! And he plays his part so well! He
+has what the wise-acrescall 'perverted morals',--they are so
+charming!--and he will not marry. He says, 'Why give myself to one when
+I can make so many happy!' And why will not I, Sylvie Hermenstein, be
+one of those many? Why will I not yield to the embraces of Monsieur le
+beau Marquis? Not to marry him,--oh, no! so free a bird could not have
+his wings clipped! And why will I not see the force of this?--"
+
+She stopped, for Angela sprang towards her exclaiming,
+
+"Sylvie! Do you mean to tell me that the Marquis Fontenelle is such a
+villain?--"
+
+"Tais-toi! Dear little flame of genius, how you blaze!" cried Sylvie,
+catching her friend by the hand and kissing it, "Do not call Fontenelle
+a villain--he is too charming!--and he is only like a great many other
+men. He is a bold and passionate person; I rather like such
+characters,--and I really am afraid--afraid--" here she hesitated, then
+resumed, "He loves me for the moment, Angela, and I--I very much fear I
+love him for a little longer than that! C'est terrible! He is by no
+means worthy of it,--no, but what does that matter! We women never
+count the cost of loving--we simply love! If I see much of him I shall
+probably sink into the Quartier Latin of love--for there is a Quartier
+Latin as well as a high class Faubourg in the passion,--I prefer the
+Faubourg I confess, because it is so high, and respectable, and clean,
+and grand--but--"
+
+"Sylvie," said Angela determinedly, "You must come away from
+Paris,--you must not see this man--"
+
+"That is what I have arranged to do," said Sylvie, her beautiful violet
+eyes flashing with mirth and malice intermingled, "I am flying from
+Paris . . . I shall perhaps go to Rome in order to be near you. You are
+a living safety in a storm,--you are so serene and calm. And then you
+have a lover who believes in the ideal and perfect sympathy."
+
+Angela smiled,--and Sylvie Hermenstein noted the warm and tender flush
+of pleasure that spread over her fair face.
+
+"Yes, Florian is an idealist," she said, "There is nothing of the brute
+in him."
+
+"And you think Fontenelle a brute?" queried Sylvie, "Yes, I suppose he
+is; but I have sometimes thought that all men are very much
+alike,--except Florian!" She paused, looking rather dubiously, and with
+a touch of compassion at Angela, "Well!--you deserve to be happy,
+child, and I hope you will be! For myself, I am going to run away from
+Monsieur le Marquis with as much speed as if I had stolen his watch!"
+
+"It is the best thing you can do," said Angela with a little sigh of
+relief, "I am glad you are resolved."
+
+Comtesse Sylvie rose from her chair and moved about the studio with a
+pretty air of impatience.
+
+"If his love for me could last," she said, "I might stay! I would love
+him with truth and passion, and I would so influence him that he should
+become one of the most brilliant leading men of his time. For he has
+all the capabilities of genius,--but they are dormant,--and the joys of
+self-indulgence appeal to him more strongly than high ambition and
+attainment. And he could not love any women for more than a week or a
+month at most,--in which temperament he exactly resembles the
+celebrated Miraudin. Now I do not care to be loved for a week or a
+month--I wish to be loved for always,--for always!" she said with
+emphasis, "Just as your Florian loves you."
+
+Angela's eyes grew soft and pensive.
+
+"Few men are like Florian," she said. Again Sylvie looked at her
+doubtfully, and there was a moment's silence. Then Sylvie resumed.
+
+"Will you help me to give a little lesson to Monsieur le Marquis,
+Angela?"
+
+"Willingly, if I can. But how?"
+
+"In this way. It is a little drama! To-morrow is Saturday and you
+'receive.' 'Tout Paris', artistic Paris, at any rate, flocks to your
+studio. Your uncle, the Cardinal Bonpre, is known to be with you, and
+your visitors will be still more numerous. I have promised Fontenelle
+to meet him here. I am to give him his answer--"
+
+"To what?" enquired Angela.
+
+"To his proposal."
+
+"Of marriage?"
+
+"Dear me, no!" And Sylvie smiled, but there was a look of pain in her
+eyes, "He has an idyllic house buried in the Foret St. Germain, and he
+wants me to take possession . . . you know the rest! He is a villain?
+Yes--he is like Miraudin, who has a luxurious flat in Paris and sends
+each lady of his harem there in turn. How angry you look! But, my dear,
+I am not going to the house in the Foret, and I shall not meet him
+here. He will come--looking charming as usual, and he will wait for me;
+but I shall not arrive. All I want you to do for me is to receive him
+very kindly, talk to him very sweetly, and tell him quite suddenly that
+I have left Paris."
+
+"What good will that do?" enquired Angela, "Could you not write it to
+him?"
+
+"Of course I could write it to him but--" Here Sylvie paused and turned
+away her head. Angela, moved by quick instinct, went to her and put her
+arm around her waist.
+
+"Now there are tears in your eyes, Sylvie," she said, "You are
+suffering for this man's heartlessness and cruelty. For it IS
+heartless,--it is insulting, and selfish, and cruel to offer you
+nothing but dishonour if he knows you love him."
+
+Sylvie took out a tiny cobweb of a lace handkerchief and dried her
+tears.
+
+"No, I will not have him called heartless, or cruel," she said, "He is
+merely one of his class. There are hundreds like him in Paris. Never
+mind my tears!--they are nothing. There are hundreds of women who would
+accept his proposals,--and he thinks I must be like them,--ready to
+fall into his arms like a ripe peach at a touch! He thinks all I say to
+him is an assumed affectation of virtue, and that he can easily break
+down that slight barricade. He tells me I am a charming preacher, but
+that he could never learn anything from sermons!" She laughed, "Oh, he
+is incorrigible! But I want you to let him know that for once he is
+mistaken. Will you? And you shall not have to say even the smallest
+figment of an untruth,--your news will be quite correct--for I leave
+Paris to-morrow morning."
+
+She was very quiet now as she spoke--her brilliant eyes were dark with
+thought, and her delicate face wore a serious, almost melancholy
+expression.
+
+"Dear Sylvie!" said Angela, kissing her soft cheek, "You really care
+for this wretched man?"
+
+"I am not sure," she answered with a touch of hesitation in her voice,
+"I think I do--and yet despise myself for it!--but--who knows what
+wonders change of air and scene may work! You see, if I go away he will
+forget at once, and will trouble himself about me no more."
+
+"Are you sure of that?"
+
+Sylvie hesitated.
+
+"Well, no, I cannot be quite certain,--you see no woman has ever
+avoided him,--it will be quite a new experience for him, and a strange
+one!" Her laughter rippled out musically on the air. "Positively I do
+not think he will ever get over it!"
+
+"I begin to understand," said Angela, "You wish to make this callous
+man of the world realise that a woman may be beautiful, and brilliant,
+and independent, and yet live a pure, good life amid numerous
+temptations?"
+
+"Yes,--I wish him to feel that all women are not to be led away by
+flattery, or even by the desire to be loved, which is the hardest
+temptation of all to resist! Nothing so hard as that, Angela! Nothing
+so hard! I have often thought what a contemptible creature Goethe's
+Gretchen was to allow herself to be tempted to ruin with a box of
+jewels! Jewels! Worthless baubles! I would not cross the road to look
+at the biggest diamond in the world! But to be loved! To feel that you
+are all in all to one man out of the whole world! That would be
+glorious! That I have never felt--that I shall never know!"
+
+Angela looked at her sympathetically,--what a strange thing it was, she
+thought, that this pretty creature, with her winsome, bright,
+bewitching ways, should be craving for love, while she, Angela Sovrani,
+was elected to the happiness of having the absolute devotion of such an
+ideal lover as Florian Varillo!
+
+"But I am becoming quite tragic in my remarks," went on Sylvie,
+resuming her usual gaiety, "Melodramatic, as they say! If I go on in
+this manner I shall qualify to be the next 'leading lady' to Miraudin!
+Quelle honneur! Good-bye Angela;--I will not tell you where I am going
+lest Fontenelle should ask you,--and then you would have to commit
+yourself to a falsehood,--it is enough to say I have left Paris."
+
+"Shall I see you again soon?" said Angela, holding her by both hands
+and looking at her anxiously.
+
+"Yes, very soon, before the winter is over at any rate. You sweet,
+calm, happy Angela! I wonder if anything could ever whip you in a
+storm!"
+
+"Would you like to see me in a stormy humour?" asked Angela, smiling.
+
+"No, not exactly;--but,--you are TOO quiet,--too secure--too satisfied
+in your art and your surroundings; and you do not enter at all into the
+passions and griefs of other people. You are absorbed in your love and
+your work,--a beautiful existence! Only I hope the gods will not wake
+you up some day!"
+
+"I am not asleep," said Angela, "nor dreaming."
+
+"Yes you are! You dream of beautiful things,--and the world is full of
+ugly ones; you dream of love and constancy, and purity,--and the world
+is full of spite, and hate, and bribery, and wickedness; you have a
+world of your own,--but Angela, it is a glass world!--in which only the
+exquisite colours of your own soul are reflected, take care that the
+pretty globe does not break!--for if it does you will never be able to
+put it together again! Adieu!"
+
+"Adieu!" and Angela returned her loving embrace with equal affection,
+"I will announce your departure to the Marquis Fontenelle to-morrow."
+
+"You will? Sweet Angela! And when you hear from me, and know where I
+am, you will write me a long, long letter and tell me how he looked,
+and what he said, and whether he seemed sorry or indifferent, or angry,
+or ashamed--or--"
+
+Before she could finish the sentence the studio door was thrown open,
+and the servant announced, "Monsieur le Marquis Fontenelle!"
+
+
+
+
+XII.
+
+A moment's flashing glance of half-amused dismay at Angela, and the
+Comtesse Sylvie had vanished. Passing quickly behind one of the several
+tall tapestry screens that adorned the studio, she slipped away through
+a little private door at which Angela's "models" presented themselves,
+a door which led into the garden and then into the Bois, and making
+straight for her carriage which was in waiting round the corner, she
+sprang into it and was rapidly driven away. Meanwhile, Angela Sovrani,
+rather bewildered by her friend's swift departure, was left alone to
+face the Marquis, who entered almost on the heels of the servant who
+announced him, and in one swift survey of the studio saw that the
+object of his search was not there. Concealing his disappointment,
+however, under an admirable show of elegant indifference, he advanced
+towards Angela and saluted her with a courtly old-world grace that very
+well became his handsome face and figure.
+
+"I must apologise for this intrusion," he said, speaking in deep, soft
+accents which gave a singular charm to his simplest words, "But--to be
+quite frank with you--I thought I should find the Comtesse Hermenstein
+here."
+
+Angela smiled. In her heart she considered the man a social reprobate,
+but it was impossible to hear him speak, and equally impossible to look
+at him without a vague sense of pleasure in his company.
+
+"Sylvie was here a moment ago," she answered, still smiling.
+
+The Marquis took one or two quick impulsive steps forward--then
+checking himself, stopped short, and selecting a chair deliberately sat
+down.
+
+"I understand!" he said, "She wished to avoid me, and she has done so.
+Well!--I would not run after her for the world. She must be perfectly
+free."
+
+Angela looked at him with a somewhat puzzled air. She felt herself in a
+delicate and awkward position. To be of any use in this affair now
+seemed quite impossible. Her commission was to have told the Marquis
+that Sylvie had left Paris, but she could not say that now as Sylvie
+was still in the city. Was she supposed to know anything about the
+Marquis's dishonourable proposals to her friend? Surely not! Then what
+was she to do? She stood hesitating, glancing at the fine, clear-cut,
+clean-shaven face of Fontenelle, the broad intellectual brows, and the
+brilliant hazel eyes with their languid, half-satirical expression, and
+her perplexity increased. Certainly he was a man with a grand
+manner,--the manner of one of those never-to-be-forgotten haughty and
+careless aristocrats of the "Reign of Terror" who half redeemed their
+vicious lives by the bravery with which they faced the guillotine.
+Attracted, yet repelled by him, Angela had always been,--even when she
+had known no more of him than is known of a casual acquaintance met at
+different parties and reunions, but now that she was aware of Sylvie's
+infatuation, the mingled attraction and revulsion became stronger, and
+she caught herself wishing fervently that the Marquis would rouse
+himself from his lethargy of pleasure, and do justice to the
+capabilities which Nature had evidently endowed him with, if a fine
+head and noble features are to be taken as exponents of character.
+Fontenelle himself, meanwhile, leaning carelessly back in the chair he
+had taken, looked at her with a little quizzical lifting of his
+eyebrows.
+
+"You are very silent, mademoiselle," he broke out at last, "Have you
+nothing to say to me?"
+
+At this straight question Angela recovered her equanimity.
+
+"I HAD something to say to you, Marquis," she answered quietly, "but it
+was to have been said to-morrow."
+
+"To-morrow? Ah, yes! You receive your world of art to-morrow," he said,
+"and I was to come and meet la Comtesse,--and of course she would not
+have been here! I felt that by a natural instinct! Something
+psychological--something occult! I saw her carriage pass my windows up
+the Champs Elysees,--and I followed in a common fiacre. I seldom ride
+in a common fiacre, but this time I did so. It was an excitement--la
+chasse! I saw the little beauty arrive at your door,--I gave her time
+to pour out all her confidences,--and then I arranged with myself and
+le bon Dieu to escort her home."
+
+"You arranged well," said Angela, inclined to laugh at his easy
+audacity, "but le bon Dieu was evidently not of your opinion,--and you
+must remember that the most excellent arrangements are not always
+carried out."
+
+"True!" and Fontenelle smiled, "In the case of the fascinating Sylvie,
+I do not know when I have had so much trouble about a woman. It is
+interesting, but vexatious. Sometimes I think I shall have to give up
+and gallop off the hunting-field altogether--"
+
+"Excuse me, Marquis," said Angela coldly, "Sylvie Hermenstein is my
+friend--pray understand that I cannot allow her to be spoken of in the
+tone of badinage you are pleased to assume."
+
+He looked up with a curious air of surprise and mock penitence.
+
+"Pardon! But there is no badinage at all about the very serious
+position in which I find myself," he said, "You, mademoiselle, as a
+woman, have not the slightest idea of the anxiety and trouble your
+charming sex gives to ours. That is, of course, when you are
+charming--which is not always. Now Sylvie, your friend Sylvie--is so
+distinctly charming that she becomes provoking and irritating. I am
+sure she has told you I am a terrible villain . . ."
+
+"She has never said so,--never spoken one word against you!" interposed
+Angela.
+
+"No? That is curious--very curious! But then Sylvie is curious. You see
+the position is this;--I wish to give her all I am worth in the world,
+but she will not have it,--I wish to love her, but she will not be
+loved--"
+
+"Perhaps," said Angela, gaining courage to speak plainly, "Perhaps your
+love is not linked with honour?"
+
+"Honour?" echoed the Marquis, lifting his finely arched eyebrows, "You
+mean marriage? No--I confess I am not guilty of so much impudence. For
+why should the brilliant Sylvie become the Marquise Fontenelle? It
+would be a most unhappy fate for her, because if there WERE a Marquise
+Fontenelle, my principles would oblige me to detest her!"
+
+"You would detest your own wife!" said Angela surprised.
+
+"Naturally! It is the fashion. To love one's wife would be petite
+bourgoisie--nothing more absurd! It is the height of good form to
+neglect one's wife and adore one's mistress,--the arrangement works
+perfectly and keeps a man well balanced,--perpetual complaint on one
+side, perpetual delight on the other."
+
+He laughed, and his eyes twinkled satirically.
+
+"Are you serious?" asked Angela.
+
+"I never was more serious in my life," declared the Marquis
+emphatically, "With all my heart I wish to make the delicious pink and
+white Sylvie happy,--I am sure I could succeed in my way. If I should
+ever allow myself to do such a dull thing as to marry,--imagine
+it!--such a dull and altogether prosy thing!--my gardener did it
+yesterday;--I should of course choose a person with a knowledge of
+housekeeping and small details,--her happiness it would be quite
+unnecessary to consider. The maintenance of the establishment, the
+servants, and the ever increasing train of milliners and dressmakers
+would be enough to satisfy Madame la Marquise's ambitions. But for
+Sylvie,--half-fairy, half-angel as she is,--there must be poetry and
+moonlight, flowers, and romance, and music, and tender
+nothings,--marriage does not consort with these delights. If you were a
+little school-girl, dear Donna Sovrani, I should not talk to you in
+this way,--it would not be proper,--it would savour of Lord Byron, and
+Maeterlinck, and Heinrich Heine, and various other wicked persons. It
+would give you what the dear governesses would call 'les idees folles',
+but being an artist, a great artist, you will understand me. Now, you
+yourself--you will not marry?"
+
+"I am to be married next year if all is well, to Florian Varillo," said
+Angela, "Surely you know that?"
+
+"I have heard it, but I will not believe it," said the Marquis airily,
+"No, no, you will never marry this Florian! Do not tell me of it! You
+yourself will regret it. It is impossible! You could not submit to
+matrimonial bondage. If you were plain and awkward I should say to you,
+marry, and marry quickly, it is the only thing for you!--but being what
+you are, charming and gifted, why should you be married? For
+protection? Every man who has once had the honour of meeting you will
+constitute himself your defender by natural instinct. For
+respectability? Ah, but marriage is no longer respectable,--the whole
+estate of matrimony is as full of bribery and corruption as the French
+War Office."
+
+He threw himself back in his chair and laughed, running one hand
+through his hair with a provoking manner of indifferent ease and
+incorrigible lightheartedness.
+
+"I cannot argue with you on the matter," said Angela, rather vexedly,
+"Your ideas of life never will be mine,--women look at these things
+differently . . ."
+
+"Poor dear women! Yes!--they do," said the Marquis, "And that is such a
+pity,--they spoil all the pleasure of their lives. Now, just think for
+a moment what your friend Sylvie is losing! A devoted, ardent and
+passionate lover who would spare no pains to make her happy,--who would
+cherish her tenderly, and make her days a dream of romance! I had
+planned in my mind such a charming boudoir for Sylvie, all ivory and
+white satin,--flowers, and a soft warm light falling through the
+windows,--imagine Sylvie, with that delicate face of hers and white
+rose skin, a sylph clad in floating lace and drapery, seen in a faint
+pink hue as of a late sunset! You are an artist, mademoiselle, and you
+can picture the fairy-like effect! I certainly am not ashamed to say
+that this exquisite vision occupies my thoughts,--it is a suggestion of
+beauty and deliciousness in a particularly ugly and irksome world,--but
+to ask such a dainty creature as Sylvie to be my housekeeeper, and make
+up the tradesmen's books, I could not,--it would be sheer insolence on
+my part,--it would be like asking an angel just out of heaven to cut
+off her wings and go downstairs and cook my dinner!"
+
+"You please yourself and your own fanciful temperament by those
+arguments," said Angela,--"but they are totally without principle. Oh,
+why," and raising her eyes, she fixed them on him with an earnest look,
+"Why will you not understand? Sylvie is good and pure,--why would you
+persuade her to be otherwise?"
+
+Fontenelle rose and took one or two turns up and down the room before
+replying.
+
+"I expect you will never comprehend me," he said at last, stopping
+before Angela, "In fact, I confess sometimes I do not comprehend
+myself. Of course Sylvie is good and pure--I know that;--I should not
+be so violently in love with her if she were not--but I do not see that
+her acceptance of me as a lover would make her anything else than good
+and pure. Because I know that she would be faithful to me."
+
+"Faithful to you--yes!--while you were faithless to her!" said Angela,
+with a generous indignation in her voice, "You would expect her to be
+true while you amused yourself with other women. A one-sided
+arrangement truly!"
+
+The Marquis seemed unmoved.
+
+"Every relation between the sexes is one-sided," he declared, "It is
+not my fault! The woman gives all to one,--the man gives a little to
+many. I really am not to blame for falling in with this general course
+of things. You look very angry with me, Donna Sovrani, and your eyes
+positively abash me;--you are very loyal to your friend and I admire
+you for it; but after all, why should you be so hard upon me? I am no
+worse than Varillo."
+
+Angela started, and her cheeks crimsoned.
+
+"Than Varillo? What do you mean?"
+
+"Well, Varillo has Pon-Pon,--of course she is useful--what he would do
+without her I am sure I cannot imagine,--still she IS Pon-Pon."
+
+He paused, checked by Angela's expression.
+
+"Please explain yourself, Marquis," she said in cold, calm accents, "I
+am at a loss to understand you."
+
+Fontenelle glanced at her and saw that her face had grown as pale as it
+was recently flushed, and that her lips were tightly set; and in a
+vague way he was sorry to have spoken. But he was secretly chafing at
+everything,--he was angry that Sylvie had escaped him,--and angrier
+still that Donna Sovrani should imply by her manner, if not by her
+words, that she considered him an exceptional villain, when he himself
+was aware that nearly all the men of his "Cercle" resembled him.
+
+"Pon-Pon is Signor Varillo's model," he said curtly, "I thought you
+were aware of it. She appears in nearly all his pictures."
+
+Angela breathed again.
+
+"Oh, is that all!" she murmured, and laughed.
+
+Fontenelle opened his eyes a little, amazed at her indifference. What a
+confiding, unsuspecting creature was this "woman of genius"! This time,
+however, he was discreet, and kept his thoughts to himself.
+
+"That is all," he said, "But . . . artists have been known to admire
+their models in more ways than one."
+
+"Yes," said Angela tranquilly, "But Florian is entirely different to
+most men."
+
+The Marquis was moved to smile, but did not. He merely bowed with a
+deep and reverential courtesy.
+
+"You have reason to know him best," he said, "and no doubt he deserves
+your entire confidence. For me--I willingly confess myself a
+vaurien--but I assure you I am not as bad as I seem. Your friend Sylvie
+is safe from me."
+
+Angela's eyes lightened,--her mind was greatly relieved.
+
+"You will leave her to herself--" she began.
+
+"Certainly I will leave her to herself. She will not like it, but I
+will do it! She is going away to-morrow,--I found that out from her
+maid. Why will you beautiful ladies keep maids? They are always ready
+to tell a man everything for twenty or forty francs. So simple!--so
+cheap!--Sylvie's maid is my devoted adherent,--and why?--not only on
+account of the francs, but because I have been careful to secure her
+sweetheart as my valet, and he depends upon me to set him up in
+business. So you see how easy it is for me to be kept aware of all my
+fair lady's movements. This is how I learned that she is going away
+to-morrow--and this is why I came here to-day. She has given me the
+slip--she has avoided me and now I will avoid her. We shall see the
+result. I think it will end in a victory for me."
+
+"Never!" said Angela, "You will never win Sylvie to your way of
+thinking, but it is quite possible she may win you!"
+
+"That would be strange indeed," said the Marquis lightly, "The world is
+full of wonders, but that would be the most wonderful thing that ever
+happened in it! Commend me to the fair Comtesse, Mademoiselle, and tell
+her it is _I_ who am about to leave Paris."
+
+"Where are you going?" asked Angela impulsively.
+
+"Ah, feminine curiosity!" said the Marquis laughing, "How it leaps out
+like a lightning flash, even through the most rigid virtue! Chere
+Mademoiselle, where I am going is my own secret, and not even your
+appealing looks will drag it out of me! But I am in no hurry to go
+away; I shall not fly off by the midnight train, or the very early one
+in the morning, as your romantic friend the Comtesse Sylvie will
+probably do,--I have promised the Abbe Vergniaud to hear him preach on
+Sunday. I shall listen to a farewell sermon and try to benefit by
+it,--after that I take a long adieu of France;--be good enough to say
+to the Countesse with my humblest salutations!"
+
+He bowed low over Angela's hand, and with a few more light parting
+words took his graceful presence out of the room, and went down the
+stairs humming a tune as he departed.
+
+After he had gone Angela sat for some minutes in silence thinking. Then
+she went to her desk and wrote a brief note to the Comtesse as
+follows:--
+
+"Dear Sylvie: Dismiss your maid. She is in the employ of Fontenelle and
+details to him all your movements. He has been here for half an hour
+and tells me that he takes a long adieu of France after Sunday, and he
+has promised me to LEAVE YOU TO YOURSELF. I am sure you are glad of
+this. My uncle and I go to Rome next week.
+
+"ANGELA."
+
+She sealed and marked the envelope "private", and ringing the bell for
+her man-servant requested him to deliver it himself into the hands of
+the Comtesse Hermenstein. This matter dismissed from her mind she went
+to a portfolio full of sketches, and turned them over and over till she
+came to one dainty, small picture entitled, "Phillida et les Roses". It
+was a study of a woman's nude figure set among branching roses, and was
+signed "Florian Varillo". Angela looked at it long and earnestly,--all
+the delicate flesh tints contrasting with the exquisite hues of red and
+white roses were delineated with wonderful delicacy and precision of
+touch, and there was a nymph-like grace and modesty about the woman's
+form and the drooping poise of her head, which was effective yet subtle
+in suggestion. Was it a portrait of Pon-Pon? Angry with herself Angela
+tried to put the hateful but insinuating thought away from her,--it was
+the first slight shadow on the fairness of her love-dream,--and it was
+like one of those sudden clouds crossing a bright sky which throws a
+chill and depression over the erstwhile smiling landscape. To doubt
+Florian seemed like doubting her own existence. She put the "Phillida"
+picture back in the portfolio and paced slowly to and fro in her
+studio, considering deeply. Love and Fame--Fame and Love! She had
+both,--and yet Aubrey Leigh had said such fortune seldom fell to the
+lot of a woman as to possess the two things together. Might it not be
+her destiny to lose one of them? If so, which would she prefer to keep?
+Her whole heart, her whole impulses cried out, "Love"! Her intellect
+and her ambitious inward soul said, "Fame"! And something higher and
+greater than either heart, intellect, or soul whispered to her inmost
+self, "Work!--God bids you do what is in you as completely as you can
+without asking for a reward of either Love or Fame." "But," she argued
+with herself, "for a woman Love is so necessary to the completion of
+life." And the inward monitor replied, "What kind of Love? Ephemeral or
+immortal? Art is sexless;--good work is eternal, no matter whether it
+is man or woman who has accomplished it." And then a great sigh broke
+from Angela's lips as she thought, "Ah, but the world will never own
+woman's work to be great even if it be so, because men give the
+verdict, and man's praise is for himself and his own achievements
+always." "Man's praise," went on the interior voice, "And what of God's
+final justice? Have you not patience to wait for that, and faith to
+work for it?" Again Angela sighed; then happening to look up; in the
+direction of the music-gallery which occupied one end of her studio
+where the organ was fitted, she saw a fair young face peering down at
+her over the carved oak railing, and recognised Manuel. She
+smiled;--her two or three days' knowledge of him had been more than
+sufficient to win her affection and interest.
+
+"So you are up there!" she said, "Is my uncle sleeping?"
+
+"No," replied Manuel, "he is writing many letters to Rome. Will you
+come and play to me?"
+
+"Willingly!" and Angela went lightly up the winding steps of the
+gallery, "But you have been out all day,--are you not tired?"
+
+"No, not now. I WAS weary,--very weary of seeing and hearing so many
+false things . . ."
+
+"False things?" echoed Angela thoughtfully, as she seated herself at
+the organ, "What were they?"
+
+"Churches principally," said Manuel quietly; "How sad it is that people
+should come into those grand buildings looking for Christ and never
+finding Him!"
+
+"But they are all built for the worship of Christ," said Angela,
+pressing her small white fingers on the organ keys, and drawing out one
+or two deep and solemn sounds by way of prelude, "Why should you think
+He is not in them?"
+
+"He cannot be," answered Manuel, "They are all unlike Him! Remember how
+poor he was!--He told His followers to despise all riches and worldly
+praise!--and now see how the very preachers try to obtain notice and
+reward for declaring His simple word! The churches seem quite empty of
+Him,--and how empty too must be the hearts and souls of all the poor
+people who go to such places to be comforted!"
+
+Angela did not reply,--her hands had unconsciously wandered into the
+mazes of a rich Beethoven voluntary, and the notes, firm, grand, and
+harmonious, rolled out in the silence with a warm deep tenderness that
+thrilled the air as with a rhythmic beat of angels' wings. Lost in
+thought, she scarcely knew what she played, nor how she was
+playing,--but she was conscious of a sudden and singular exaltation of
+spirit,--a rush of inward energy that was almost protest,--a force
+which refused to be checked, and which seemed to fill her to the very
+finger tips with ardours not her own,--martyrs going to the destroying
+flames might have felt as she felt then. There was a grave sense of
+impending sorrow hanging over her, mingled with a strong and prayerful
+resolve to overcome whatever threatened her soul's peace,--and she
+played on and on, listening to the rushing waves of sound which she
+herself evoked, and almost losing herself in a trance of thought and
+vision. And in this dreamy, supersensitive condition, she imagined that
+even Manuel's face fair and innocent as it was, grew still more
+beautiful,--a light, not of the sun's making, seemed to dwell like an
+aureole in his clustering hair and in his earnest eyes,--and a smile
+sweeter than any she had ever seen, seemed to tremble on his lips as
+she looked at him.
+
+"You are thinking beautiful things," he said gently, "And they are all
+in the music. Shall I tell you about them?"
+
+She nodded assent, while her fingers, softly pressing out the last
+chord of Beethoven's music, wandered of their own will into the
+melancholy pathos of a Schubert "Reverie."
+
+"You are thinking of the wonderful plan of the world," he said,--"Of
+all the fair and glorious things God has made for those who love Him!
+Of the splendour of Faith and Hope and Courage,--of the soul's divine
+origin and responsibility,--and all the joy of being able to say to the
+Creator of the whole universe, 'Our Father!' You are thinking--because
+you know--that not a note of the music you are playing now fails to
+reach the eternal spheres,--echoing away from your touch, it goes
+straight to its mark,--sent with the soul's expression of love and
+gratitude, it flies to the centre of the soul's worship. Not a
+pulsation of true harmony is lost! You are thinking how grand it is to
+live a sweet and unsullied life, full of prayer and endeavour, keeping
+a spirit white and clean as the light itself, a spirit dwelling on the
+verge of earth but always ready to fly heavenward!--You are thinking
+that no earthly reward, no earthly love, no earthly happiness, though
+good in itself, can ever give you such perfect peace and joy as is
+found in loving, serving, and obeying God, and suffering His will to be
+entirely worked in you!"
+
+Angela listened, deeply moved--her heart throbbed quickly,--how
+wonderfully the boy expressed himself!--with what sweetness,
+gentleness, and persuasion! She would have ceased playing, but that
+something imperative urged her to go on,--and Manuel's soft voice
+thrilled her strangely when he spoke again, saying--
+
+"You know now--because your wise men are beginning to prove it--that
+you can in very truth send a message to heaven."
+
+"To heaven!" murmured Angela, "That is a long way! We know we can send
+messages in a flash of lightfrom one part of the world to another--but
+then there must be people to receive them--"
+
+"And heaven is composed of millions of worlds," said Manuel, "'In my
+Father's house are many mansions!" And from all worlds to all
+worlds--from mansion to mansion, the messages flash! And there are
+those who receive them, with such directness as can admit of no error!
+And your wise men might have known this long ago if they had believed
+their Master's word, 'Whatsoever is whispered in secret shall be
+proclaimed on the housetops.' But you will all find out soon that it is
+true, and that everything you say, and that every prayer you utter God
+hears."
+
+"My mother is in heaven," said Angela wistfully, "I wish I could send
+her a message!"
+
+"Your very wish has reached her now!" said Manuel, "How is it possible
+that you in the spirit could ardently wish to communicate with one so
+beloved and she not know it! Love would be no use then, and there would
+be a grave flaw in God's perfect creation."
+
+Angela ceased playing, and turned round to face the young speaker.
+
+"Then you think we never lose those we love? And that they see us and
+hear us always?"
+
+"They must do so," said Manuel, "otherwise there would be cruelty in
+creating the grace of love at all. But God Himself is Love. Those who
+love truly can never be parted,--death has no power over their souls.
+If one is on earth and one in heaven, what does it matter? If they were
+in separate countries of the world they could hear news of each other
+from time to time,--and so they can when apparent death has divided
+them."
+
+"How?" asked Angela with quick interest.
+
+"Your wise men must tell you," said Manuel, with a grave little smile,
+"I know no more than what Christ has said,--and He told us plainly that
+not even a sparrow shall fall to the ground without our Father. 'Fear
+not,' He said, 'Ye are more than many sparrows.' So, as there is
+nothing which is useless, and nothing which is wasted, it is very
+certain that love, which is the greatest of all things, cannot lose
+what it loves."
+
+Angela's eyes filled with tears, she knew not why, "Love which is the
+greatest of all things cannot lose what it loves!"--How wonderfully
+tender was Manuel's voice as he spoke these words!
+
+"You have very sweet thoughts, Manuel," she said, "You would be a great
+comfort to anyone in sorrow."
+
+"That is what I have always wished to be," he answered, "But you are
+not in sorrow yet,--that is to come!"
+
+She looked up quickly.
+
+"You think I shall have some great trouble?" she asked, with a little
+tremour in her accents.
+
+"Yes, most surely you will!" replied Manuel, "No one in the world ever
+tried to be good and great at the same time without suffering
+miscomprehension and bitter pain. Did not Christ say, 'In the world ye
+shall have tribulation'?"
+
+"Yes,--and I have often wondered why," said Angela musingly.
+
+"Only that you might learn to love God best," answered Manuel with a
+delicate inflexion of compassion in his voice, "And that you might know
+for certain and beyond all doubt that this life is not all. There is
+something better--greater--higher!--a glory that is worth winning
+because immortal. 'In the world ye shall have tribulation'--yes, that
+is true!--but the rest of the saying is true also--'Be of good
+cheer,--I have overcome the world'!"
+
+Moved by an impulse she could not understand, Angela suddenly turned
+and extended her hands with an instinctive grace that implied reverence
+as well as humility. The boy clasped them lightly then let them
+go,--and without more words went softly away and left her.
+
+
+
+
+XIII.
+
+The Church of Notre Dame de Lorette in Paris with its yellow stucco
+columns, and its hideous excess of paint and gilding, might be a
+ball-room designed after the newest ideas of a vulgar nouveau riche
+rather than a place of sanctity. The florid-minded Blondel, pupil of
+the equally florid-minded Regnault, hastily sketched in some of the
+theatrical frescoes in the "Chapel of the Eucharist," and a misguided
+personage named Orsel, splashed out the gaudy decorations of the
+"Chapel of the Virgin." The whole edifice glares at the spectator like
+a badly-managed limelight, and the tricky, glittering, tawdry effect
+blisters one's very soul. But here may be seen many little select
+groups out of the hell of Paris,--fresh from the burning as it were,
+and smelling of the brimstone,--demons who enjoy their
+demonism,--satyrs, concerning whom, one feels that their polished boots
+are cleverly designed to cover their animal hoofs, and that skilful
+clothiers have arranged their garments so that their tails are not
+perceived. But that hoofs and tails are existent would seem to be a
+certainty. Here sometimes will sing a celebrated tenor, bulky and
+brazen,--pouring out from his bull-throat such liquid devotional notes
+as might lift the mind of the listener to Heaven ifone were not so
+positive that a moral fiend sang them;--here sometimes may be seen the
+stout chanteuse who is the glory of open-air cafes in the Champs
+Elysees, kneeling with difficulty on a velvet hassock and actually
+saying prayers. And one must own that it is an exhilarating and moving
+sight to behold such a woman pretending to confess her sins, with the
+full delight of them written on her face, and the avowed intention of
+committing them all over again manifesting itself in every turn of her
+head, every grin of her rouged lips, and every flash of her painted
+eyes! For these sections out of the French "Inferno," Notre Dame de
+Lorette is a good place to play penitence and feign prayer;--the
+Madeleine is too classic and serene and sombre in its interior to
+suggest anything but a museum, from which the proper custodian is
+absent,--Notre Dame de Paris reeks too much with the blood of slain
+Archbishops to be altogether comfortable,--St. Roch in its
+"fashionable" congregation, numbers too many little girls who
+innocently go to hear the music, and who have not yet begun to paint
+their faces, to suit those whose lives are all paint and
+masquerade,--and the "Lorette" is just the happy medium of a church
+where, Sham being written on its walls, one is scarcely surprised to
+see Sham in the general aspect of its worshippers. Among the ugly
+columns, and against the heavy ceiling divided into huge raised lumps
+of paint and gilding, Abbe Vergniaud's voice had often resounded,--and
+his sermons were looked forward to as a kind of witty entertainment. In
+the middle or the afterwards of a noisy Mass,--Mass which had been
+"performed" with perhaps the bulky tenor giving the "Agnus Dei," with
+as sensually dramatic an utterance as though it were a love-song in an
+opera, and the "basso," shouting through the "Credo," with the deep
+musical fury of the tenor's jealous rival,--with a violin "interlude,"
+and a 'cello "solo,"--and a blare of trumpets at the "Elevation," as if
+it were a cheap spectacle at a circus fair,--after all this
+melodramatic and hysterical excitement it was a relief to see the Abbe
+mount the pulpit stairs, portly but lightfooted, his black clerical
+surtout buttoned closely up to his chin, his round cleanshaven face
+wearing a pious but suggestive smile, his eyes twinkling with latent
+satire, and his whole aspect expressing, "Welcome excellent humbugs! I,
+a humbug myself, will proceed to expound Humbug!" His sermons were
+generally satires on religion,--satires delicately veiled, and full of
+the double-entendres so dear to the hearts of Parisians,--and their
+delight in him arose chiefly from never quite knowing what he meant to
+imply, or to enforce. Not that his hearers would have followed any
+counsel even if he had been so misguided as to offer it; they did not
+come to hear him "preach" in the full sense of the word,--they came to
+hear him "say things,"--witty observations on the particular fad of the
+hour--sharp polemics on the political situation--or what was still more
+charming, neat remarks in the style of Rochefoucauld or Montaigne,
+which covered and found excuses for vice while seemingly condemning
+viciousness. There is nothing perhaps so satisfactory to persons who
+pride themselves on their intellectuality, as a certain kind of
+spurious philosophy which balances virtue and vice as it were on the
+point of a finger, and argues prettily on the way the two can be easily
+merged into each other, almost without perception. "If without
+perception, then without sin," says the sophist; "it is merely a
+question of balance." Certainly if generosity drifts into extravagance
+you have a virtue turned into a vice;--but there is one thing these
+spurious debaters cannot do, and that is to turn a vice into a virtue.
+That cannot be done, and has never been done. A vice is a vice, and its
+inherent quality is to "wax fat and gross," and to generally enlarge
+itself;--whereas, a virtue being a part of the Spiritual quality and
+acquired with difficulty, it must be continually practised, and guarded
+in the practice, lest it lapse into vice. We are always forgetting that
+we have been, and still are in a state of Evolution,--out of the Beast
+God has made Man,--but now He expects us, with all the wisdom, learning
+and experience He has given us, to evolve for ourselves from Man the
+Angel,--the supreme height of His divine intention. Weak as yet on our
+spiritual wings, we hark back to the Beast period only too willingly,
+and sometimes not all the persuasion in the world can lift us out of
+the mire wherein we elect to wallow. Nevertheless, there must be and
+will be a serious day of reckoning for any professing priest of the
+Church, or so-called "servant of the Gospel", who by the least word or
+covert innuendo, gives us a push back into prehistoric slime and
+loathliness,--and that there are numbers who do so, no one can deny.
+Abbe Vergniaud had flung many a pebble of sarcasm at the half-sinking
+faith of some of his hearers with the result that he had sunk it
+altogether. In his way he had done as much harm as the intolerant
+bigot, who when he finds persons believing devoutly in Christ, but
+refusing to accept Church-authority, considers such persons atheists
+and does not hesitate to call them so. The "Pharisees" in Christian
+doctrine are as haughty, hypocritical and narrow as the Pharisees whom
+Jesus calls "ravening wolves," and towhom He said, "Ye shut up the
+Kingdom of Heaven against men; for ye neither go in yourselves, NEITHER
+SUFFER YE THEM THAT ARE ENTERING TO GO IN," and "Even so ye also
+outwardly appear righteous unto men, but within ye are full of
+hypocrisy and iniquity." The last words, it may be said, will apply
+fittingly to more than one-half of the preachers of the Gospel at the
+present day!
+
+It was a brilliant, soft autumnal Sunday morning when Cardinal Bonpre,
+mindful of Abbe Vergniaud's request that he should be present to hear
+him preach, took his slow and thoughtful way to the church of the
+Lorette, accompanied by his niece Angela and Manuel. The building was
+crammed, and had not the Abbe been previously careful to reserve seats,
+and to mention the Cardinal's name to the custodian, he would have
+scarcely obtained admission. As it was, however, he passed slowly up
+the centre aisle without hindrance, followed by Manuel and Angela, and
+watched by a good many inquisitive persons, who wondered as they
+looked, who the boy was that walked after His Eminence with such easy
+self-possession,--with such a noble and modest bearing, and with such a
+strangely thoughtful face. A few whispered and nudged each other as
+"the Sovrani" passed them, dressed in her usual quiet black, her head
+slightly bent and her eyes downcast. The Marquis Fontenelle, seated in
+an attitude which suggested a languid indifference to all persons and
+events, lifted his bright hazel eyes as she passed,--and a sudden wave
+of consciousness swept over him,--uneasy consciousness that perhaps
+this small slight woman despised him. This was not quite a pleasant
+reflection for a man and a Marquis to boot,--one who could boast of an
+ancient and honourable family pedigree dating back to the fighting days
+of Coeur-de-Lion and whose coat-of-arms was distinguished by three
+white lilies of France on one of its quarterings. The lilies of
+France!--emblems of honour, loyalty, truth, and chivalry!--what smudged
+and trampled blossoms they seem to day! He frowned as this fancy
+crossed his mind, and turned his eyes away from the following of
+Angela's slight form up the aisle; and his glance fell instead on a
+face he detested, because it was almost the counterpart of his
+own,--the face of the great French actor Miraudin. The same
+clean-shaven classic face and clustering hair,--the same glittering,
+amorous hazel eyes;--the same charming and kindly smile,--all these
+attributes were in Miraudin's face, indefinably coarsened, while in
+Fontenelle's they remained refined and inicative of the highest
+breeding. The Marquis moved uneasily in his seat,--he saw himself in
+the famous actor,--himself as he would be, if he continued his career
+of self-indulgence,--for Miraudin though gifted with a genius that
+could move all Paris to the wildest excesses of admiration, was in
+private life known as a man of detestable reputation, whose liaisons
+with women were endless, but who, in his extreme egotism and
+callousness had never been known to yield to the saving grace of a
+"grande passion,"--one of those faithful passions which sometimes make
+the greatness of both man and woman concerned, and adorn the pages of
+dull history with the brilliancy of deathless romance. Was he, Guy
+Beausire de Fontenelle no better, no nobler, no higher, in his desires
+and ambitions than Miraudin? What was he doing with the three lilies
+emblazoned on his escutcheon? He thought with a certain fretful
+impatience of Sylvie, of her captivating grace, her tender eyes, her
+sweet laughter, and sweeter smile. She had seemed to him a mere slight
+creation of the air and the moonbeams,--something dainty that would
+have melted at a touch, and dropped into his mouth, as it were, like a
+French bon-bon. So he, man-like, had judged, and now lo!--the little
+ethereal creature had suddenly displayed a soul of adamant--hard and
+pure, and glittering as a diamond,--which no persuasion could break or
+bend. She had actually kept her word!--she had most certainly left
+Paris. The Marquis knew that, by the lamentable story of her dismissed
+maid who had come to him with hysterical tears, declaring that "Madame"
+had suddenly developed a "humeur incroyable"--and had gone away
+alone,--alone, save for a little dusky-skinned Arab boy whom she had
+once brought away from Biskra and had trained as an attendant,--her
+"gouvernante" and companion, Madame Bozier, and her old butler who had
+known her from childhood. Fontenelle felt that the dismissal of the
+maid who had been such a convenient spy for him, was due to Angela
+Sovrani's interference, and though angry, he was conscious of feeling
+at the same time mean in himself, and miserable. To employ a servant to
+play the spy on her mistress, and report to him her actions and
+movements, might be worthy of a Miraudin, but was it quite the thing
+for a Marquis Fontenelle? Thinking over these things his handsome face
+grew flushed and anon pale again, as from time to time he stole a vexed
+side glance at the easy Miraudin,--so like him in features
+and--unfortunately so equally like him in morals! Meanwhile, the music
+of the Mass surged round him, in thunders of the organ, wailings of
+violins, groaning of 'cellos, and flutings of boys' and men's
+voices,--and as the cloudy incense rose upon the air he began to weave
+strange fancies in his mind, and to see in the beams of sunlight
+falling through the stained glass windows a vision of the bright face
+of Sylvie looking down upon him with a half-tender, half-reproving
+smile,--a smile that seemed to say, "If thou lovest me, set the grace
+of honour on thy love!" These were strange thoughts for him to
+entertain, and he was almost ashamed of them,--but as long as the
+melodies of the Mass kept rolling on and reverberating around him he
+could not help thinking of them; so that he was relieved when a pause
+came,--the interval for the sermon,--and Abbe Vergniaud, leisurely
+mounting the steps of the pulpit, stood surveying the congregation with
+the composed yet quizzical air for which he was celebrated, and waiting
+till the rustling, fidgeting, coughing, snuffing, toe-scraping noises
+of the congregation had settled down into comparative silence. His
+attitude during this interval was suggestive. It implied contempt,
+wearied patience, resignation, and a curious touch of defiance. Holding
+himself very erect he rested his left hand on the elaborate sculptured
+edge of the pulpit,--it was the hand on which he usually wore his ring,
+a diamond of purest lustre,--but on this occasion the jewel had been
+removed and the white, firm fingers, outlined against the pulpit edge,
+looked as though they had just relaxed their grasp of something that
+had been more or less of a trouble to retain. Nothing perhaps is so
+expressive as a hand,--the face can disguise itself,--even the eyes can
+lie,--but the hand never. Its shape, its movements, its attitude in
+repose, give a more certain clue to character and disposition than
+almost any other human feature. Thus, with the Abbe, while his left
+hand suggested a "letting go," his right hand, which held a small
+black-bound Testament implied defiance, grip, resolve and courage. And
+when the people seated immediately around the pulpit lifted their eyes
+expectantly to the popular preacher's face, several of the more
+observant noticed something in his look and manner which was unfamiliar
+and curiously disconcerting. If it be true, as there is every reason to
+believe it is, that each human being unconsciously gives out an "aura"
+of his interior personality which is made more or less powerful to
+attract or repel by the nature of his intentions, and which affects the
+"aura" of those with whom he is brought in contact, then Abbe Vergniaud
+was this morning creating all unawares to himself a very singular
+impression of uneasiness. Some of the persons thus uncomfortably
+influenced coughed violently in an instinctive attempt to divert or
+frustrate the preacher's mood, but even the most persistent cougher
+must cease coughing at some time or another--and the Abbe was evidently
+determined to wait for an absolute silence before he spoke. At last
+silence came, and he opened the Testament. Holding it up to the view of
+the congregation, he began with all that easy eloquence which the
+French tongue gives to a cultured speaker,--his voice full and
+sonorous, reaching distinctly to every part of the crowded church.
+
+"This," he said, "is a small book which you all pretend to know. It is
+so small a book that it can easily be read through in an hour. It is
+the Testament;--or the Last Will and Command to the world of one Jesus
+Christ, who was crucified on account of His Divinity more than eighteen
+hundred years ago. I mention the fact, in case any of you have
+forgotten it! It is generally understood that this book is the message
+of God and the key of Faith;--upon it our churches and religious
+systems are founded;--by its teaching we are supposed to order our
+conduct of life--and yet,--though as I have said, it is a very small
+book, and would not take you an hour to read it--none of you know any
+thing about it! That is a strange thing, is it not?"
+
+Here he leaned over the pulpit edge, and his bright eyes, coldly
+satiric, flashed a comprehensive glance over the whole congregation.
+
+"Yes, it is a strange thing, but I affirm it true,--that none of you
+know anything whatever about the contents of this small volume which is
+the foundation of the Christian Faith! You never read it
+yourselves,--and if we priests read it to you, you never remember it!
+It is a locked Mystery,--perhaps, for all we know, the greatest mystery
+in the world,--and the one most worth probing! For the days seem to be
+coming, if they have not already come, which were prophesied by St.
+John the Divine, whom certain 'clever' men of the time have set down as
+mad;--days which were described as 'shaking the powers of heaven and
+creating confusion on the earth.' St. John said some strange things;
+one thing in particular, concerning this very book, which reads
+thus;--'I saw in the right hand of Him that sat upon the throne a book
+sealed with seven seals. And I saw a strong angel proclaiming with a
+loud voice; Who is worthy to open and to loose the seals thereof? And
+no man in heaven or in earth was able to open the book neither to look
+thereon. And I wept much because no man was found worthy to open and to
+read the book, neither to look thereon.' But St. John the Divine was
+mad, we are told,--madness and inspiration being judged as one and the
+same thing. Well, if in these statements he is supposed to prove his
+madness, I consider a doubt must be set upon everyone's sanity. For his
+words are an exact description of the present period of the world's
+existence and its attitude towards the Gospel of Christ,--'NO MAN IS
+FOUND WORTHY TO LOOSE THE SEALS OF THE BOOK OR TO LOOK THEREON.' But I
+am not going to talk to you about the seven seals. They adequately
+represent our favourite 'seven deadly sins,' which have kept the book
+closed since the days of the early martyrs;--and are likely to keep it
+closed still. Nor shall I speak of our unworthiness to read what we
+have never taken the trouble to rightly understand,--for all this would
+be waste of time. It is part of our social sham to pretend we know the
+Gospel,--and it is a still greater sham to assume that we have ever
+tried in the smallest degree to follow its teaching. What we know of
+these teachings has influenced us unconsciously, but the sayings in the
+Gospel of Christ are in very truth as enveloped in mystery to each
+separate individual reader as the oracles of the ancient Egyptians were
+to the outside multitude. And why? Merely because, to comprehend the
+teaching of Jesus we should have to think,--and we all hate thinking.
+It is too much exertion,--and exertion itself is unpleasant. A quarter
+of an hour's hard thinking will convince each one of us that he or she
+is a very worthless and ridiculous person, and we strongly object to
+any process which will, in itself, bring us to that conclusion. I say
+'we' object,--that is, I and you; particularly I. I admit at once that
+to appear worthless and ridiculous to the world has always seemed to me
+a distressing position, and one to be avoided. Worthless and ridiculous
+in my own eyes I have always been,--but that is not your affair. It is
+strictly mine! And though I feel I am not worthy 'to loose the seals of
+the book or look thereon,' there is one passage in it which strikes me
+as particularly applicable to the present day, and from it I will
+endeavour to draw a lesson for your instruction, though perhaps not for
+your entertainment."
+
+Here he paused and glanced at his hearers with an indefinable
+expression of mingled scorn and humour.
+
+"What an absurdity it is to talk of giving a 'lesson' to you!--you who
+will barely listen to a friend's advice,--you who will never take a
+hint for your mental education or improvement, you who are apt to fly
+into a passion, or take to the sulks when you are ever so slightly
+contradicted. Tiens, tiens! c'est drole! Now the words I am about to
+preach from, are supposed to have been uttered by Divine lips; and if
+you thoroughly believed this, you would of your own accord kneel down
+and pray that you might receive them with full comprehension and ready
+obedience. But you do not believe;--so I will not ask you to kneel down
+in mockery, or feign to pray when you are ignorant of the very spirit
+of prayer! So take the words,--without preparation, without thought,
+without gratitude, as you take everything God gives you, and see what
+you can make of them. 'The light of the body is the eye,--if therefore
+thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. But if
+thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If
+therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that
+darkness!'"
+
+Here he closed the Testament, and rested it edgewise on the pulpit
+cushion, keeping one hand firmly clasped upon it as he turned himself
+about and surveyed the whole congregation.
+
+"What is the exact meaning of the words, 'IF THINE EYE BE SINGLE'? It
+is an expressive term; and in its curt simplicity covers a profound
+truth. 'If thine eye,' namely,--the ability to see,--'be single,' that
+is straight and clear, without dimness or obliquity,--'thy whole body
+shall be full of light.' Christ evidently did not apply this expression
+to the merely physical capability of sight,--but to the moral and
+mental, or psychic vision. It matters nothing really to the infinite
+forces around us, whether physically speaking, we are able to see, or
+whether we are born blind; but spiritually, it is the chief necessity
+of our lives that we should be able to see straight morally. Yet that
+is what we can seldom or never do. Modern education, particularly
+education in France, provides us at once with a double psychic lens,
+and a side-squint into the bargain! Seeing straight would be too
+primitive and simple for us. But Christ says, 'If thine eye be evil,
+thy whole body shall be full of darkness.' Now this word 'evil,' as set
+in juxtaposition to the former term 'single,' evidently implies a
+double sight or perverted vision. With this 'evil,' or double sight,
+our whole body 'shall be full of darkness.' Very well, my friends, if
+this be true,--(and you surely must believe it true, otherwise you
+would not support churches for the exposition of the truth as spoken by
+the Founder of our Faith;--) then we are children of the dark indeed! I
+doubt if one amongst us,--for I include myself with you,--can be said
+to see clearly with a straight psychic vision. The straight psychic
+vision teaches us that God is the Creator of all things,--God is Light
+and Love,--God desires good from us, and from every particle of his
+creation;--but the double or perverted line of sight offers a different
+view and declares, 'This life is short and offers many pleasures. I
+cannot be sure of God because I have never seen Him;--the Universe is
+certainly very majestic, and somewhat startling to me in its exact
+mathematical proportions; but I have no more to do with it than has a
+grain of sand;--my lot is no more important than that of the midge in
+the sunbeam;--I live,--I breed--I die;--and it matters to no one but
+myself how I do these three things, provided I satisfy my nature.' This
+is the Philosophy of the Beast, and it is just now very fashionable. It
+is 'la haute mode' both in France, and England, Italy, and Spain. Only
+young America seem to be struggling for a Faith,--a Christian
+Faith;--it has almost, albeit faintly and with a touching indecision,
+asked for such a Faith from the Pope,--who has however declared it to
+be impossible in these words addressed to Cardinal Gibbons, 'Discussion
+of the principles of the Church cannot be tolerated even in the United
+States. There can only be one interpreter, the Pope. In the matter of
+discipline, concessions may be allowed, but in doctrine none.' Mark the
+words, 'cannot be tolerated'! Consider what stability a Faith can have
+whose principles may not be discussed! Yet the authority of the Church
+is, we are told the authority of God Himself. How is this? We can
+discuss God and His principles. He 'tolerates' us while we search for
+His laws, and stand amazed and confounded before His marvellous
+creation. The more we look for Him the more He gives Himself gloriously
+to us; and Christ declares 'Seek and ye shall find,'--the Church says
+'Seek and ye shall not be tolerated'! How are we to reconcile these two
+assertions? We do not reconcile them; we cannot; it is a case of double
+sight,--oblique and perverted psychic vision. Christ spoke
+plainly;--the Church speaks obscurely. Christ gave straight
+commands,--we fly in the face of them and openly disobey them. Truth
+can always be 'discussed,' and Truth MUST be 'tolerated' were a
+thousand Holy Fathers to say it nay! But note again the further words
+to America, 'There can only be one interpreter,--the Pope. In the
+matter of discipline, concessions may be allowed, but in doctrine
+none.' Let us examine into this doctrine. It is the doctrine of Christ,
+plain and straightforward; enunciated in such simple words that even a
+child can understand them. But the Church announces with a strident
+voice that there can only be one interpreter,--the Pope. Nevertheless
+Truth has a more resonant voice than even that of the Church. Truth
+cries out at this present day, 'Unless you will listen to Me who am the
+absolute utterance of God, who spake by the prophets, who spake through
+Christ,--who speaks through Christ and all things still,--your little
+systems, your uncertain churches, your inefficient creeds, your
+quarrelsome sects, shall crumble away into dust and ruins! For humanity
+is waiting for the true Church of Christ; the one pure House of Praise
+from which all sophistry, all superstition and vanity shall have fled,
+and only God in the Christ-Miracle and the perfection of His Creation
+shall remain!' And there is no more sure foundation for this
+much-needed House of Praise than the Catholic Church,--the word
+'catholic' being applied in its widest sense, meaning a 'Universal'
+answering to the needs of all;--and I am willing to maintain that the
+ROMAN Catholic Church has within it the vital germ of a sprouting
+perfection. If it would utterly discard pomp and riches, if it would
+set its dignity at too high an estimate for any wish to meddle in
+temporal or political affairs, if it would firmly trample down all
+superstition, idolatry and bigotry, and 'use no vain repetition as the
+heathen do'--to quote Christ's own words,--if in place of ancient dogma
+and incredible legendary lore, it would open its doors to the marvels
+of science, the miracles and magnificence daily displayed to us in the
+wonderful work of God's Universe, then indeed it might obtain a lasting
+hold on mankind. It might conquer Buddhism, and Christianize the whole
+earth. But--'If thine eye be evil thy whole body shall be full of
+darkness,'--and while the Church remains double-sighted we are bound
+also to see double. And so we listen with a complete and cynical
+atheism to the conventional statement that 'one man alone' shall
+interpret Christ's teaching to us of the Roman following,--and this man
+an old frail teacher, whose bodily and intellectual powers are, in the
+course of nature, steadily on the decline. Why we ask, must an aged man
+be always elected to decide on the teaching of the ever-young and
+deathless Christ?--to whom the burden of years was unknown, and whose
+immortal spirit, cased for a while in clay, saw ever the rapt vision of
+'old things being made new'? In all other work but this of religious
+faith, men in the prime of life are selected to lead,--men of energy,
+thought, action, and endeavour,--but for the sublime and difficult task
+of lifting the struggling human soul out of low things to lofty, an old
+man, weak, and tottering on the verge of the grave, is set before us as
+our 'infallible' teacher! There is something appalling in the fact,
+that look where we may, no profession holds out much chance of power or
+authority to any man past sixty, but the Head of the Church may be so
+old that he can hardly move one foot before the other, yet he is
+permitted to be declared the representative of the ever-working,
+ever-helping, ever-comforting Christ, who never knew what it was to be
+old! Enough, however of this strange superstition which is only one of
+many in the Church, and which are all the result of double or perverted
+sight,--I come to the last part of the text which runs, 'If therefore
+the light in thee be darkness how great is that darkness.' IF THEREFORE
+THE LIGHT IN THEE BE DARKNESS! My friends, that is exactly my
+condition, and has been my condition ever since I was twenty. The light
+in me has been darkness. The intellectual quality of my brain which has
+helped me to attain my present false position among you . . ."
+
+Here he paused, for there was a distinct movement of surprise among his
+audience, which till now, had remained to a man so still that the buzz
+of a fly on the window-pane sounded almost as loud as the drone of a
+bag-pipe,--then with a faint smile on his lips he resumed,--
+
+"I hope you all heard my words distinctly! I said, the false position I
+have attained among you. I repeat it lest there should be any mistake.
+It IS a false position and always has been. I have never for an instant
+believed half what I have asked you to believe! And I have preached to
+you what I have never dreamed of practising! Yet I venture to say that
+I am not worse than most of my brethren. The intellectual men of
+France, whether clergy or laity, are in a difficult situation. Their
+brains are keen and clear; and, intellectually speaking, they are
+totally unable to accept the Church superstitions of the tenth and
+twelfth centuries. But in rejecting superstition it would have been
+quite possible to have held them fast to a sublime faith in God and an
+Immortal Future, had the Church caught them when slipping, and risen to
+the mental demand made upon her resources. But the old worn-out thunder
+of the Vatican, which lately made a feeble noise in America, has rolled
+through France with the same assertion, 'Discussion cannot be
+tolerated'; and what has been the result? Simply this,--that all the
+intellectual force of the country is arrayed against priestcraft;--and
+the spirit of an insolent, witty, domineering atheism and materialism
+rules us all. Even young children can be found by the score who laugh
+at the very idea of a God, and who fling a jeer at the story of the
+Crucifixion of Christ,--while vice and crime are tolerated and often
+excused. Moral restraint is being less and less enforced, and the
+clamouring for sensual indulgence has become so incessant that the
+desire of the whole country, if put into one line, might be summed up
+in the impotent cry of the Persian voluptuary Omar Khayyam to his god,
+'Reconcile the law to my desires'. This is as though a gnat should seek
+to build a cathedral, and ask for the laws of architecture to be
+altered in order to suit his gnat-like capacity. The Law is the Law;
+and if broken, brings punishment. The Law makes for good,--and if we
+pull back for evil, destroys us in its outward course. Vice breeds
+corruption in body and in soul; and history furnishes us with more than
+sufficient examples of that festering disease. It is plainly demanded
+of us that we should assist God's universe in its way towards
+perfection; if we refuse, and set a drag on the majestic Wheel, we are
+ourselves crushed in its progress. Here is where our Church errs in the
+present generation. It is setting itself as a drag on the Wheel.
+Meanwhile, Truth advances every day, and with no uncertain voice
+proclaims the majesty of God. Heaven's gates are thrown open;--the
+secrets of the stars are declared,--the mysteries of light and sound
+are discovered; and we are approaching possibly to the time when the
+very graves shall give up their dead, and the secrets of all men's
+hearts shall be made manifest. Yet we go on lying, deceiving, cajoling,
+humbugging each other and ourselves;--living a daily life of fraud and
+hypocrisy, with a sort of smug conviction in our souls that we shall
+never be found out. We make a virtue of animalism, and declare the
+Beast-Philosophy to be in strict keeping with the order of nature. We
+gloat over our secret sins, and face the world with a brazen front of
+assumed honour. Oh, we are excellent liars all! But somehow we never
+seem to think we are fools as well! We never remember that all we do
+and all we say, is merely the adding of figures to a sum which in the
+end must be made up to the grand total, and paid! Every figure
+tells;--the figure 'nought' especially, puts an extra thousand on the
+whole quantity! But the light in us being darkness, how great is that
+darkness! So great that we refuse to look an inch before us! We will
+not see, we will not understand,--we utterly decline to accept any
+teaching or advice which might inflict some slight inconvenience on our
+own Ego. And so we go on day after day, till all at once a reckoning is
+called and death stares us in the face. What! So soon finished? All
+over? Must we go at once, and no delay? Must we really and truly drop
+all our ridiculous lies and conventions and be sent away naked-souled
+into the Living Unknown? Not the Dead Unknown remember!--for nothing is
+actually dead! The whole universe palpitates and burns with ever
+re-created life. What have we done with the past life?--and what shall
+we do with this other life? Oh, but there is no time to ask questions
+now,--we should have asked them before; the hour of departure is come,
+and there is not a moment's breathing time! Our dear friends (if we
+have any), and our paid doctors and servants stand around us
+awe-struck,--they watch out last convulsive shudder--and weep--not so
+much for sorrow sometimes as terror,--and then when all is over, they
+say we are 'gone'. Yes,--we are gone--but where? Well, we shall each of
+us find that out, my friends, when we pass away from Popes, Churches,
+Creeds, and Conventions to the majesty of the actual Glory! Shall we
+pray then? Shall we weep? Shall we talk of rituals? Shall we say this
+or that form of prayer was the true one?--this or that creed was the
+'only' one? Shall we complain of our neighbours?--or shall we not
+suddenly realise that there never was but one way of life and progress
+through creation,--the good and pure, the truthful and courageous, as
+taught with infinite patience by the God-Man, and that wheresoever we
+have followed our own inclinations rather than His counsel, then our
+OWN action, not God's punishment, condemns us,--our OWN words, not
+God's, re-echo back our sins upon ourselves!"
+
+He paused, looking everywhere around him,--all his hearers were
+listening with an almost breathless attention.
+
+"Oh, yes! I know the charm of sin!" he continued with mingled mockery
+and passion vibrating in his voice;--"The singular fascination of pure
+devilry! All of you know it too,--those of you who court the world's
+applause on the stage, or in the salons of art and literature, and who
+pretend that by your work you are elevating and assisting humanity,
+while in your own private lives you revel in such vice as the very dogs
+you keep might be ashamed of! There is no beast so bestial as man at
+his worst! And some of you whom I know, glory in being seen at your
+worst always. There are many among you here to-day whose sole excuse
+for a life of animalism is, that it is your nature, 'I live according
+to my temperament,--my disposition,--I do not wish to change
+myself--you cannot change me; I am as I am made'! So might the thief
+argue as he steals his neighbour's money,--so may the murderer console
+himself as he stabs his victim! 'It is my nature to stab and to
+steal--it is my nature to live as a beast--I do not wish to change; you
+cannot change me'. Now if these arguments were true, and hold good, man
+would be still where he begun,--in the woods and caves,--an uncouth
+savage with nothing save an animal instinct to lead him where he could
+find food. But even this earliest instinct, savage though it was,
+taught him that something higher than himself had made him, and so he
+began to creep on by slow degrees towards that higher at once; hence
+instinct led to reason, and reason to culture and civilization. And now
+having touched as high a point of experience and knowledge as the
+ancient Assyrians and Egyptians attained before their decline, he is
+beginning even as they did, to be weary and somewhat afraid of what
+lies beyond in the as yet unfathomed realms of knowledge; and he half
+wishes to creep back again on all-fours to the days when he was beast
+merely. The close contemplation of the Angel terrifies him,--he dare
+not grow his wings! Further than life, as life appears to him on its
+material side, he is afraid to soar,--what lies in the far distance he
+dare not consider! This is where the Pause comes in all progress,--the
+hesitation, the doubt, the fear;--the moment when the Creature draws so
+near to his Creator that he is dazzled and confounded. And it is a
+strange fact that he is always left alone,--alone with his own Will, in
+every such grand crisis. He has been helped so much by divine
+influences, that he is evidently considered strong enough to decide his
+own fate. He is strong enough,--he has sufficient reason and knowledge
+to decide it for the Highest, if he would. But, with national culture
+goes national luxury,--the more civilised a community, the greater its
+bodily ease,--the more numerous the temptations against which we are
+told we must fight. Spirit flies forward--Body pulls back. But Spirit
+is one day bound to win! We have attained in this generation a certain
+knowledge of Soul-forces--and we are on a verge, where, if we hesitate,
+we are lost, and must recoil upon our own Ego as the centre of all
+desire. But if we go on boldly and leave our own Ego behind, we shall
+see the gates of Heaven opening indeed, and all the Mysteries unveiled!
+How often we pause on the verge of better things, doubting whether to
+rise or grovel! The light in us is darkness, and how great is that
+darkness! Such is the state of mind in which I, your preacher, have
+found myself for many years! I do not know whether to rise or
+grovel,--to sink or soar! To be absolutely candid with you, I am quite
+sure that I should not sink in your opinion for confessing myself to be
+as outrageous in my conceptions of mortality as many of you are. You
+would possibly pretend to be ashamed of me, but in your hearts you
+would like me all the better. The sinking or the soaring of my nature
+has therefore nothing whatever to do with you. It is a strictly
+personal question. But what I specially wish to advise you of this
+morning,--taking myself as an example,--is that none of you, whether
+inclined to virtue or to vice, should remain such arrant fools as to
+imagine that your sins will not find you out. They will,--the instant
+they are committed, their sole mission is to start on your track, and
+hunt you down! I cannot absolutely vouch to you that there is a
+God,--but I am positive there is a hidden process of mathematics going
+on in the universe which sums up our slightest human affairs with an
+exactitude which at the least is amazing. Twenty-five years ago I did a
+great wrong to a human creature who was innocent, and who absolutely
+trusted me. There is no crime worse than this, yet it seemed to me
+quite a trifling affair,--an amusement--a nothing! I was perfectly
+aware that by some excessively straightlaced people it might be termed
+a sin; but my ideas of sin were as easy and condoning as yours are. I
+never repented it,--I can hardly say I ever thought of it,--if I did I
+excused myself quickly, and assured my own conscience in the usual way,
+that the fault was merely the result of circumstances over which I had
+no control. Oh, those uncontrollable circumstances! How convenient they
+are! And what a weak creature they make of man, who at other times than
+those of temptation, is wont to assert himself master of this planet!
+Master of a planet and cannot control a vice! Excellent! Well,--I
+never, as I say, thought of the wrong I had done,--but if _I_ forgot
+it, some One or some Thing remembered it! Yes--remembered it!--put it
+down--chronicled it with precision as to time and place,--and set it, a
+breathing fact, before me in my old age,--a living witness of my own
+treachery."
+
+He paused, the congregation stirred,--the actor Miraudin looked up at
+him with a surprised half-smile. Angela Sovrani lifted her beautiful
+violet eyes towards him in amazed compassion,--Cardinal Bonpre,
+recalling the Abbe previous confession to him, bent his head, deeply
+moved.
+
+"Treachery," resumed Vergniaud determinedly, "Is always a covert thing.
+We betray each other in the dark, with silent foot-steps and sibilant
+voices. We whisper our lies. We concoct our intrigues with carefully
+closed doors. I did so. I was a priest of the Roman Church as I am now;
+it would never have done for a priest to be a social sinner! I
+therefore took every precaution to hide my fault;--but out of my lie
+springs a living condemnation; from my carefully concealed hypocrisy
+comes a blazonry of truth, and from my secret sin comes an open
+vengeance . . ."
+
+At the last words the loud report of a pistol sounded through the
+building . . . there was a puff of smoke, a gleam of flame, and a
+bullet whizzed straight at the head of the preacher! The congregation
+rose, en masse, uttering exclamations of terror,--but before anyone
+could know exactly what had happened the smoke cleared, and the Abbe
+Vergniaud was seen leaning against the steps of the pulpit, pale but
+uninjured, and in front of him stood the boy Manuel with arms
+outstretched, and a smile on his face. The bullet had split the pulpit
+immediately above him. An excited group assembled round them
+immediately, and the Abbe was the first to speak.
+
+"I am not hurt!--" he said quickly--"See to the boy! He sprang in front
+of me and saved my life."
+
+But Manuel was equally unhurt, and waived aside all enquiries and
+compliments. And while eager questions were poured out and answered, a
+couple of gendarmes were seen struggling in the centre of the church
+with a man who seemed to have the power of a demon, so fierce and
+frantic were his efforts to escape.
+
+"Ah, voila! The assassin!" cried Miraudin, hastening to give assistance.
+
+"The assassin!" echoed a dozen other persons pressing in the same
+direction.
+
+Vergniaud heard, and gave one swift glance at Cardinal Bonpre who,
+though startled by the rapidity and excitement of the scene that had
+occurred, was equal to the occasion, and understood his friend's appeal
+at once, even before he said hurriedly,
+
+"Monseigneur! Tell them to let him go!--or--bring him face to face with
+me!"
+
+The Cardinal endeavoured to pass through the crowd, but though some
+made way for him on account of his ecclesiastical dignity, others
+closed in, and he found it impossible to move more than a few steps.
+Then Vergniaud, moved by a sudden resolve, raised himself a little, and
+resting one hand on the shoulder of Manuel, who still remained on the
+steps of the pulpit in front of him, he called,
+
+"Let Monsieur the assassin come here to me! I have a word to say to
+him!"
+
+Through the swaying, tumultuous, murmuring throng came a sudden
+stillness, and everyone drew back as the gendarmes responding to Abbe
+Vergniaud's command, pushed their way along, dragging and hustling
+their prisoner between them,--a young black-browed, black-eyed peasant
+with a handsome face and proud bearing, whose defiant manner implied
+that having made one fierce struggle for liberty and finding it in
+vain, he was now disdainfully resigned to the inevitable. When brought
+face to face with the Abbe he lifted his head, and flashed his dark
+eyes upon him with a look of withering contempt. His lips parted,--he
+seemed about to speak when his glance accidentally fell upon
+Manuel,--then something caused him to hesitate,--he checked himself on
+the very verge of speech and remained silent. The Abbe surveyed him
+with something of a quizzical half-admiring smile, then addressing the
+gendarmes he said,
+
+"Let him go!"
+
+The men looked up astonished, doubting whether they had heard aright.
+
+"Let him go!" repeated the Abbe firmly, "I have no accusation to make
+against him. Had he killed me he would have been perfectly justified!
+Let him go!"
+
+"Cher Abbe!" remonstrated the Marquis Fontenelle, who had made himself
+one of the group immediately around the pulpit, "Is not this a mistake
+on your part? Let me advise you not to be so merciful . . ."
+
+"'Blessed are the merciful for they shall obtain mercy'"! quoted the
+Abbe with a strange smile, while his breath came and went quickly, and
+his face grew paler as he spoke. "Set him free, messieurs, if you
+please! I decline to prosecute my own flesh and blood! I will be
+answerable for his future conduct,--I am entirely answerable for his
+past! He is my son!"
+
+
+
+
+XIV.
+
+No one ever afterwards quite knew how the crowd in the church broke up
+and dispersed itself after this denouement. For a few minutes the crush
+of people round the pulpit was terrific; all eyes were fixed on the
+young black-browed peasant who had so nearly been a parricide,--and on
+the father who publicly exonerated him,--and then there came a pressing
+towards the doors which was excessively dangerous to life and limb.
+Cardinal Bonpre, greatly moved by the whole unprecedented scene, placed
+himself in front of Angela as a shield and defence from the crowd; but
+before he had time to consider how he should best pilot her through the
+pushing and scrambling throng, a way was made for him by Manuel,
+who,--with a quiet step and unruffled bearing,--walked through the
+thickest centre of the crowd, which parted easily on either side of
+him, as though commanded to do so by some unheard but absolute
+authority. Admiring and wondering glances were turned upon the boy,
+whose face shone with such a grave peace and sweetness;--he had saved
+the Abbe's life, the people whispered, by springing up the steps of the
+pulpit, and throwing himself between the intended victim and the bullet
+of his assailant. Who was he? Where did he come from? No one knew;--he
+was merely the attendant of that tall ascetic-looking Cardinal, the
+uncle of the famous Sovrani. So the words ran from mouth to mouth, as
+Felix Bonpre and his niece moved slowly through the throng, following
+Manuel;--then, when they had passed, there came a general hubbub and
+confusion once more, and the people hustled and elbowed each other
+through the church regardless of consequences, eager to escape and
+discuss among themselves the sensation of the morning.
+
+"C'est un drame! Un veritable drame!" said Miraudin, pausing, as he
+found himself face to face with the Marquis Fontenelle.
+
+Fontenelle stared haughtily.
+
+"Did you speak to me, Monsieur?" he enquired, glancing the actor up and
+down with an air of supreme disdain.
+
+Miraudin laughed carelessly.
+
+"Yes, I spoke to you, Marquis!" he replied, "I said that the public
+confession of our dear priest Vergniaud was a veritable drame!"
+
+"An unfortunate scandal in the Church!" said Fontenelle curtly.
+
+"Yes!" went on the unabashed Miraudin, "If it were on the stage it
+would be taken as a matter of course. An actor's follies help to
+populate the world. But a priest's petite faute would seem to suggest
+the crushing down of a universe!"
+
+"Custom and usage make the rule in these things," said Fontenelle
+turning away, "I have the honour to wish you good-day, Monsieur!"
+
+"One moment!" said the actor smiling, "There is a curious personal
+resemblance between you and me, Monsieur le Marquis! Have you ever
+noticed it? We might almost be brothers by our looks--and also I
+believe by our temperaments!"
+
+Fontenelle's hazel eyes flashed angrily.
+
+"I think not!" he said coldly, "A certain resemblance between totally
+unrelated persons is quite common. For the rest, we are absolutely
+different--absolutely!"
+
+Again Miraudin laughed.
+
+"As you will, Marquis!" and he raised his hat with a light,
+half-mocking air, "Au revoir!"
+
+Fontenelle scarcely acknowledged the salutation,--he was too much
+annoyed. He considered it a piece of insolence on Miraudin's part to
+have addressed him at all without previous introduction. It was true
+that the famous actor was permitted a license not granted to the
+ordinary individual,--as indeed most actors are. Even princes, who
+hedge themselves round with impassable barriers to certain of their
+subjects who are in all ways great and worthy of notice, unbend to the
+Mime who today takes the place of the Court-jester, and allow him to
+enter the royal presence, often bringing his newest wanton with him.
+And there was not the slightest reason for the Marquis Fontenelle to be
+at all particular in his choice of acquaintances. Yet somehow or other,
+he was. The fine and sensitive instincts of a gentleman were in him,
+and though in the very depths of his own conscience he knew himself to
+be as much of a social actor as Miraudin was a professional
+one,--though he was aware that his passions were as sensual, and
+therefore as vulgar, (for sensuality is vulgarity), there was a latent
+pride in him which forbade him to set himself altogether on the same
+level. And now as he walked away haughtily, his fine aristocratic head
+lifted a little higher in air than usual, he was excessively
+irritated--with everything and everybody, but with himself in
+particular. Abbe Vergniaud's sermon had stung him in several ways, and
+the startling FINALE had vexed him still more.
+
+"What folly!" he thought, as he entered his luxuriously appointed flat,
+and threw himself into a chair with a kind of angry weariness, "How
+utterly stupid of Vergniaud to blazon the fact that he is no better
+than other men, in the full face of his congregation! He must be mad! A
+priest of the Roman Church publicly acknowledging a natural son!
+[Footnote: ROME, August 19, 1899--A grave scandal has just burst upon
+the world here. The Gazetta di Venezia having attacked the bishops
+attending the recent conclave of "Latin America," that is,
+Spanish-speaking America, as men of loose morality, the Osservatore
+Cattolico, the Vatican organ, replied declaring that the life of the
+bishops present at the conclave was above suspicion. The Gazetta di
+Venezia responds, affirming that the majority of the bishops brought
+with them to Rome their mistresses, and in some instances their
+children. The Gazetta offers to disclose the names of these bishops,
+and demands that the Pope shall satisfy the Catholic world by taking
+measures against them.--Central News.] Has ever such a thing been heard
+of! And the result is merely to create scandal and invite his own
+disgrace! A quoi bon!"
+
+He lit a cigarette and puffed at it impatiently. His particular "code"
+of morality had been completely upset;--things seemed to have taken a
+turn for general offence, and the simplest thoughts became like
+bristles in his brain, pricking him uncomfortably in various sore and
+sensitive places. Then, added to his general sense of spleen was the
+unpleasant idea that he was really in love, where he had never meant to
+be in love. "In love", is a wide term nowadays, and covers a multitude
+of poor and petty passing emotions,--and it is often necessary to add
+the word "really" to it, in order to emphasise the fact that the
+passion has perhaps,--and even then it is only a perhaps,--taken a
+somewhat lasting form. Why could not Sylvie Hermenstein have allowed
+things to run their natural course?--this natural course being
+according to Fontenelle, to drop into his arms when asked, and leave
+those arms again with equal alacrity also when asked! It would have
+been quite pleasant and satisfactory to him, the Marquis;--and for
+Sylvie--well!--for Sylvie, she would soon have got over it! Now there
+was all this fuss and pother about virtue! Virtue, quotha! In a woman,
+and in Paris! At this time of day! Could anything be more preposterous
+and ridiculous!
+
+"One would imagine I had stumbled into a convent for young ladies," he
+grumbled to himself, "What with Sylvie actually gone, and that pretty
+pattern of chastity, Angela Sovrani, preaching at me with her big
+violet eyes,--and now Vergniaud who used to be 'bon camarade et bon
+vivant', branding himself a social sinner--really one would imagine
+that some invisible Schoolmaster was trying to whip me into order . .
+."
+
+"Peut-on entrer?" called a clear voice outside at this juncture, and
+without waiting for permission the speaker entered, a very pretty woman
+in an admirably fitting riding habit, which she held daintily up with
+one gloved hand, extending the other as she came to the Marquis who
+gracefully bent over it and kissed it.
+
+"Charme de vous voir Princesse!" he murmured.
+
+"Not at all! Spare me your falsehoods!" was the gay reply, accompanied
+by a dazzling smile, "You are not in the least charmed,
+nothing,--nobody charms you,--I least of all! Did you not see me in
+church? No! Where were your eyes? On the courageous Vergniaud, who so
+nearly gave us the melancholy task of arranging a 'Chapelle ardente'
+for him this afternoon?" She laughed, and her eyes twinkled
+maliciously,--then she went on, "Do you know he is quite a delightful
+boy,--the peasant son and assassin? I think of taking him to my Chateau
+and making something of him. I waited to see the whole play out, and
+bring you the news. Papa Vergniaud has gone home with his good-looking
+offspring--then Cardinal Bonpre--do you know the Cardinal Bonpre?"
+
+"By reputation merely," replied the Marquis, setting a chair for his
+fair visitor, "And as the uncle of Donna Sovrani."
+
+"Oh, reputation is nothing," laughed the lady, known as the Princesse
+D'Agramont, an independent beauty of great wealth and brilliant
+attainments, "Your butler can give you a reputation, or take it away
+from you! But the Cardinal's reputation is truly singular. It is
+goodness, merely! He is so good that he has become actually famous for
+it! Now I once thought that to become famous for goodness must surely
+imply that the person so celebrated had a very hypocritical
+nature,--the worst of natures indeed;--that of pretending to be what he
+was not,--but I was mistaken. Cardinal Bonpre IS good. Absolutely
+sincere and noble--therefore a living marvel in this age!"
+
+"You are pleased to be severe, Princesse," said the Marquis, "Is
+sincerity so difficult to find?"
+
+"The most difficult of virtues!" answered the Princesse, lightly
+tapping out a little tune with the jewelled handle of her riding whip
+on the arm of her chair, "That is why I like horses and dogs so
+much--they are always honest. And for that reason I am now inclined to
+like Abbe Vergniaud whom I never liked before. He has turned honest!
+To-day indeed he has been as straightforward as if he were not a man at
+all!--and I admire him for it. He and his son will be my guests at the
+Chateau D'Agramont."
+
+"What a very strange woman you are!" said Fontenelle, with a certain
+languid admiration beginning to glimmer in his eyes, "You always do
+things that nobody else would dare do--and yet . . . no lovers!"
+
+She turned herself swiftly round and surveyed him with a bright scorn
+that swept him as with a lightning flash from head to heel.
+
+"Lovers! Who would be bored by them! Such delightful company! So
+unselfish in their demands--so tender and careful of a woman's
+feelings! Pouf! Cher ami!--you forget! I was the wife of the late
+Prince D'Agramont!"
+
+"That explains a great many of your moods certainly," said the Marquis
+smiling.
+
+"Does it not? Le beau Louis!--romantic Louis!--poet Louis!--musician
+Louis!--Louis, who talked pretty philosophies by the hour,--Louis who
+looked so beautiful by moonlight,--who seemed fastidious and refined to
+a degree that was almost ethereal!--Louis who swore, with passion
+flashing in his eyes, that I was the centre of the universe to him, and
+that no other woman had ever occupied, would ever occupy, or SHOULD
+ever occupy his thoughts!--yes, he was an ideal lover and husband
+indeed!" said the Princesse smiling coldly, "I gave him all my life and
+love, till one day, when I found I was sharing his caresses with my
+plumpest dairymaid, who called him "HER Louis"! Then I thought it was
+time to put an end to romance. TIENS!" and she gave a little shrug and
+sigh, "It is sad to think he died of over-eating."
+
+The Marquis laughed.
+
+"You are incorrigible, belle Loyse!" he said, "You should write these
+things, not speak them."
+
+"Really! And do I not write them? Yes, you know I do, and that you envy
+me my skill. The Figaro is indebted to me for many admirable essays. At
+the same time I do not give you permission to call me Loyse."
+
+"Forgive me!" and the Marquis folded his hands with an air of mock
+penitence.
+
+"Perhaps I will, presently," and she laughed, "But meanwhile I want you
+to do something for me."
+
+"Toujours a votre service, madame!" and Fontenelle bowed profoundly.
+
+"How theatrical you look! You are alarmingly like Miraudin;--and one
+MUST draw the line at Miraudin! This is a day of truth according to the
+Abbe Vergniaud; how dare you say you are at my service when you do not
+mean it?"
+
+"Princesse, I protest . . ."
+
+"Oh, protest as much as you like,--on the way to Rome!"
+
+The Marquis started.
+
+"To Rome?"
+
+"Yes, to Rome. I am going, and I want someone to look after me. Will
+you come? All Paris will say we have eloped together." She laughed
+merrily.
+
+The Marquis stood perplexed and silent.
+
+"Well, what is it?" went on the Princesse gaily, "Is there some faint
+sense of impropriety stealing over you? Not possible! Dear me, your
+very muscles are growing rigid! You will not go?"
+
+"Madame, if you will permit me to be frank with you,--I would rather
+not!"
+
+"A la bonheur!--then I have you!" And the Princesse rose, a dazzling
+smile irradiating her features, "You have thrown open your heart! You
+have begun to reform! You love Sylvie Hermenstein--yes!--you positively
+LOVE her!"
+
+"Princesse--" began the Marquis, "I assure you--"
+
+"Assure me nothing!" and she looked him straight in the eyes, "I know
+all about it! You will not journey with me because you think the
+Comtesse Sylvie will hear of it, and put a wrong construction on your
+courtesy. You wish to try for once, to give her no cause for doubting
+you to be sans peur et sans reproche. You wish to make her think you
+something better than a sort of Miraudin whose amorous inclinations are
+not awakened by one woman, but by women! And so you will not do
+anything which, though harmless in itself, may seem equivocal. For this
+you refuse the friendly invitation of one of the best known 'society
+leaders' in Europe! CHER Marquis!--it is a step in the right direction!
+Adieu!"
+
+"You are not going so soon," he said hurriedly, "Wait till I explain .
+. ."
+
+"There is nothing to explain!" and the pretty Princesse gave him her
+hand with a beneficent air, "I am very pleased with you. You are what
+the English call 'good boy'! Now I am going to see the Abbe and place
+the Chateau D'Agramont at his disposal while he is waiting to be
+excommunicated,--for of course he will be excommunicated--"
+
+"What does it matter!--Who cares?" said the Marquis recklessly.
+
+"It does not matter, and nobody cares--not in actual Paris. But very
+very nice people in the suburbs, who are morally much worse than the
+Abbe, will perhaps refuse to receive him. That is why my doors are open
+to him, and also to his son."
+
+"Original, as usual!"
+
+"Perfectly! I am going to write a column for the Figaro on the amazing
+little scene of this morning. Au revoir! My poor horse has been waiting
+too long already,--I must finish my ride in the Bois, and then go to
+Angela Sovrani; for all the dramatis personae of to-day's melodrama are
+at her studio, I believe."
+
+"Who is that boy with the Cardinal?" asked the Marquis suddenly.
+
+"You have noticed him? I also. A wonderful face! A little acolyte, no
+doubt. And so you will not go to Rome with me?"
+
+"I think not," and Fontenelle smiled.
+
+"Comme il vous plaira! I will tell Sylvie."
+
+"The Comtesse Hermenstein is not in Paris."
+
+"No!" and the Princesse laughed mischievously, "She is in Rome! She
+must have arrived there this morning. Au revoir, Marquis!" Another
+dazzling smile, and she was gone.
+
+Fontenelle stood staring after her in amazement. Sylvie was in Rome
+then? And he had just refused to accompany the Princesse D'Agramont
+thither! A sudden access of irritation came over him, and he paced the
+room angrily. Should he also go to Rome? Never! It would seem too close
+a pursuit of a woman who had by her actions distinctly shown that she
+wished to avoid him. Now he would prove to her that he also had a will
+of his own. HE would leave Paris;--he would go--yes, he would go to
+Africa! Everybody went to Africa. It was becoming a fashionable
+pasture-land for disappointed lives. He would lose himself in the
+desert,--and then--then Sylvie would be sorry when she did not know
+where he was or what he was doing! But also,--he in his turn would not
+know where Sylvie was, or what she was doing! This was annoying. It was
+certain that she would not remain in Rome a day longer than she chose
+to,--well!--then where would she go? In Africa he would find some
+difficulty in tracing her movements. On second thoughts he resolved
+that he would lose himself in another fashion--and would go to Rome to
+do it!
+
+"She shall not know I am there!" he said to himself, with a kind of
+triumph in his own decision, "I shall amuse myself--I shall see
+her--but she shall not see me."
+
+Satisfied with this as yet vague plan of entertainment, he began at
+once making his arrangements for departure;--meanwhile, the Princesse
+D'Agramont riding gracefully through the Bois on her beautiful Arab,
+was amusing herself with her thoughts, and weighing the PROS and CONS
+of the different lives of her friends, without giving the slightest
+consideration to her own. Here was a strange nature,--as a girl she had
+been intensely loving, generous and warm-hearted, and she had adored
+her husband with exceptional faith and devotion. But the handsome
+Prince's amours were legion, though he had been fairly successful in
+concealing them from his wife, till the unlucky day when she had found
+him making desperate love to a common servant,--and after that her
+confidence, naturally, was at an end. One discovery led to
+another,--and the husband around whom she had woven her life's romance,
+sank degraded in her sight, never to rise again. She was of far too
+dignified and proud a nature to allow her sense of outrage and wrong to
+be made public, and though she never again lived with D'Agramont as his
+wife, she carried herself through all her duties as mistress of the
+household and hostess of his guests, with a brave bright gaiety, which
+deceived even the closest observer,--and the gossips of Paris used to
+declare that she did not know the extent of her husband's follies. But
+she did know,--and while filled with utter disgust and loathing for his
+conduct she nevertheless gave him no cause of complaint against
+herself. And when he died of a fever brought on through over-indulgence
+in vice, she conformed to all the strictest usages of society,--wore
+her solemn widow's black for more than the accustomed period,--and then
+cast it off,--not to dash into her fashionable "circle" again with a
+splurge of colour, but rather to glide into it gracefully, a vision of
+refinement, arrayed in such soft hues as may be seen in some rare
+picture; and she took complete possession of it by her own unaided
+charm. No one could really tell whether she grieved for D'Agramont's
+death or not; no one but herself knew how she had loved him,--no one
+guessed what agonies of pain and shame she had endured for his sake,
+nor how she had wept herself half blind with despair when he died. All
+this she shut up in her own heart, but the working of the secret
+bitterness within her had made a great change in her disposition. Her
+nature, once as loving and confiding as that of a little child, had
+been so wronged in its tenderest fibres that now she could not love at
+all.
+
+"Why is it," she would ask herself, "that I am totally unable to care
+for any living creature? That it is indifferent to me whether I see any
+person once, or often, or never? Why are all men like phantoms,
+drifting past my soul's immovability?"
+
+The answer to her query would be, that having loved greatly once and
+been deceived, it was impossible to love again. Some women,--the best,
+and therefore the unhappiest--are born with this difficult temperament.
+
+Now, as she rode quietly along, sometimes allowing her horse to prance
+upon the turf for the delight of its dewy freshness, she was weaving
+quite a brilliant essay on modern morals out of the scene she had
+witnessed at the Church of the Lorette that morning. She well knew how
+to use that dangerous weapon, the pen,--she could wield it like a wand
+to waken tears or laughter with equal ease, and since her husband's
+death she had devoted a great deal of time to authorship. Two witty
+novels, published under a nom-de-plume had already startled the world
+of Paris, and she was busy with a third. Such work amused her, and
+distracted her from dwelling too much on the destroyed illusions of the
+past. The Figaro snatched eagerly at everything she wrote; and it was
+for the Figaro that she busied her brain now, considering what she
+should say of the Abbe Vergniaud's confession.
+
+"It is wisest to be a liar and remain in the Church? or tell the truth
+and go out of the Church?" she mused, "Unfortunately, if all priests
+told the truth as absolutely as the Abbe did this morning we should
+have hardly any of them left."
+
+She laughed a little, and stroked her horse's neck caressingly.
+
+"Good Rex! You and your kind never tell lies; and yet you are said to
+have no souls. Now I wonder why we, who are mean and cunning and
+treacherous and hypocritical should have immortal souls, while horses
+and dogs who are faithful and kind and honest should be supposed to
+have none."
+
+Rex gave a gay little prance forward as one who should say, "Yes, but
+it is only you silly human beings who suppose such nonsense. We know
+what WE know;--we have our own secrets!"
+
+"Now the Church," went on Loyse D'Agramont, pursuing the tenor of her
+thoughts, "is in a bad way all over the world. It is possible that God
+is offended with it. It is possible, that after nearly two thousand
+years of patience He is tired of having come down to us to teach us the
+path of Heaven in vain. Something out of the common has surely moved
+the Abbe Vergniaud to speak as he spoke to-day. He was quite unlike
+himself and beyond himself; if all our preachers were seized by the
+spirit of frankness in like manner--"
+
+Here she broke off for she had arrived at Angela Sovrani's door, and a
+servant coming out, assisted her to alight, and led her horse into the
+courtyard there to await her leisure. She was an old friend of Angela's
+and was accustomed to enter the house without announcement, but on this
+occasion she hesitated, and after ascending the first few steps leading
+to the studio paused and rang the bell. Angela herself answered the
+summons.
+
+"Loyse! Is it you! Oh, I am so glad!" and Angela caught her by both
+hands,--"You cannot imagine the confusion and trouble we have been in
+this morning!"
+
+"Oh yes, I can!" answered the Princesse smiling, as she put an arm
+round her friend's waist and entered the studio, "You have certainly
+had an excitement! What of the courageous Abbe? Where is he?"
+
+"Here!" And Angela's eyes expressed volumes,--"Here, with my uncle.
+They are talking together--and that young man--Cyrillon--the son, you
+know--"
+
+"Is that his name?--Cyrillon?" queried the Princesse.
+
+"Yes,--he has been brought up as a peasant. But he is not ignorant. He
+has written books and music, so it appears--yet he still keeps to his
+labour in the fields. He seems to be a kind of genius; another sort of
+Maeterlinck--"
+
+"Oh, capricious Destiny!" exclaimed the Princesse, "The dear Abbe
+scandalises the Church by acknowledging his son to all men,--and
+lo!--the son he was ashamed of all these years, turns out a prodigy!
+The fault once confessed, brings a blessing! Angela, there is something
+more than chance in this, if we could only fathom it!"
+
+"This Cyrillon is all softness and penitence now,' Angela went on, "He
+is overcome with grief at his murderous attempt,--and has asked his
+father's pardon. And they are going away together out of Paris till--"
+
+"Till excommunication is pronounced," said the Princesse, "Yes, I
+thought so! I came here to place my Chateau at the Abbe's disposal. I
+am myself going to Rome; so he and his son can be perfectly at home
+there. I admire the man's courage, and above all I admire his
+truthfulness. But I cannot understand why he was at such pains to keep
+silence all these years, and THEN to declare his fault? He must have
+decided on his confession very suddenly?"
+
+Angela's eyes grew dark and wistful.
+
+"Yes," she answered slowly,--then with a sudden eagerness in her manner
+she added, "Do you know, Loyse, I feel as if some very strange
+influence had crept in among us! Pray do not think me foolish, but I
+assure you I have had the most curious sensations since my uncle,
+Cardinal Bonpre arrived from Rouen--bringing Manuel--"
+
+"Manuel? Is that the boy I saw in the church this morning? The boy who
+threw himself as a shield between Verginaud and the flying shot? Yes?
+And do you not know who he is?"
+
+"No," and Angela repeated the story of the way in which Manuel had been
+found and rescued by the Cardinal; "You see," she continued, "it is not
+possible to ask him any questions since he has declined to tell us more
+than we already know."
+
+"Strange!" And the Princesse D'Agramont knitted her delicate brows
+perplexedly. "And you have had curious feelings since he came, you say?
+What sort of feelings?"
+
+"Well, you will only laugh at me," replied Angela, her cheeks paling a
+little as she spoke, "but it really is as if some supernatural being
+were present who could see all my inward thoughts,--and not only mine,
+but the thoughts of everyone else. Someone too who impels us to do what
+we have never thought of doing before--"
+
+The Princesse opened her eyes in amazement.
+
+"My dear girl! You must have been over-working to get such strange
+fancies into your head! There is nothing supernatural left to us
+nowadays except the vague idea of a God,--and even that we are rather
+tired of!"
+
+Angela trembled and grew paler than usual.
+
+"Do not speak in that way," she urged, "The Abbe talked in just such a
+light fashion until the other day here,--yet this morning I think--nay,
+I am sure he believes in something better than himself at last."
+
+The Princesse was silent for a minute.
+
+"Well, what is to happen next?" she queried, "Excommunication of
+course! All brave thinkers of every time have been excommunicated, and
+many of our greatest and most valuable scientific works are on the
+Index Expurgatorius. It is my ambition to get into that Index,--I shall
+never rest till I win the honour of being beside Darwin's 'Origin of
+Species'!"
+
+Angela smiled, but her thoughts were elsewhere.
+
+"I hope the Abbe will go away at once," she said meditatively, "But you
+have no idea how happy and at ease he is! He seems to be ready for
+anything."
+
+"What does Cardinal Bonpre think?" asked the Princesse.
+
+"My uncle never thinks in any way except the way of Christ," replied
+Angela. "He says, 'Thy sins be forgiven thee; arise and walk', to every
+soul stricken with the palsy of pain and repentance. He helps the
+fallen; he does not strike them down more heavily."
+
+"Ah, so! And is he fit to be a Cardinal?" queried the Princesse
+D'Agramont dubiously.
+
+Angela gave her a quick look, but had no time to reply as at that
+moment a servant entered and announced, "Monsignor Moretti!"
+
+Angela started nervously.
+
+"Moretti!" she said in a low tone, "I thought he had left Paris!"
+
+Before she had time to say any more the visitor himself entered, a tall
+spare priest with a dark narrow countenance of the true Tuscan type,--a
+face in which the small furtive eyes twinkled with a peculiarly hard
+brilliancy as though they were luminous pebbles. He walked into the
+room with a kind of aggressive dignity common to many Italians, and
+made a slight sign of the cross in air as the two ladies saluted him.
+
+"Pardon me, Mesdames, for this intrusion," he said in a harsh metallic
+voice, "But I hear that the Abbe Vergniaud is in this house,--and that
+Cardinal Felix Bonpre has received him here SINCE" (and he emphasised
+the word "since") "the shameful scene of this morning. My business in
+Paris is ended for the moment; and I am returning to Italy
+to-night,--but I wish to know if the Abbe has anything to say through
+me to His Holiness the Pope in extenuation of his conduct before I
+perform the painful duty of narrating this distressing affair at the
+Vatican."
+
+"Will you see him for yourself, Monsignor?" said Angela quietly,
+offering to lead the way out of the studio, "You will no doubt obtain a
+more direct and explicit answer from the Abbe personally."
+
+For a moment Moretti hesitated. Princesse D'Agramont saw his
+indecision, and her smile had a touch of malice in it as she said,
+
+"It is a little difficult to know how to address the Abbe to-day, is it
+not, Monsignor? For of course he is no longer an Abbe--no longer a
+priest of Holy Church! Helas! When anybody takes to telling the truth
+in public the results are almost sure to be calamitous!"
+
+Moretti turned upon her with swift asperity.
+
+"Madame, you are no true daughter of the Church," he said, "and my
+calling forbids me to enter into any discussion with you!"
+
+The Princesse gave him a charming upward glance of her bright eyes, and
+curtsied demurely, but he paid no heed to her obeisance, and moving
+away, went at once with Angela towards the Cardinal's apartments. In
+the antechamber he paused, hearing voices.
+
+"Is there anyone with His Eminence, besides Vergniaud?" he asked.
+
+"The Abbe's son Cyrillon," replied Angela timidly.
+
+Moretti frowned.
+
+"I will go in alone," he said, "You need not announce me. The Abbe
+knows me well, and--" he added with a slight sneer, "he is likely to
+know me better!"
+
+Without further words he signed to Angela to retire, and passing
+through the antechamber, he opened the door of the Cardinal's room and
+entered abruptly.
+
+
+
+
+XV.
+
+The Cardinal was seated,--he rose as Moretti appeared.
+
+"I beg your Eminence to spare yourself!" said Moretti suavely, with a
+deep salutation, "And to pardon me for thus coming unannounced into the
+presence of one so highly esteemed by the Holy Father as Cardinal
+Bonpre!"
+
+The Cardinal gave a gesture of courteous deprecation; and Monsignor
+Moretti, lifting his, till then, partially lowered eyelids, flashed an
+angry regard upon the Abbe Vergniaud, who resting his back against the
+book-case behind him, met his glance with the most perfect composure.
+Close to him stood his son and would-be murderer Cyrillon,--his dark
+handsome face rendered even handsomer by the wistful and softened
+expression of his eyes, which ever and anon rested upon his father with
+a look of mingled wonder and respect. There was a brief silence--of a
+few seconds at most,--and then Moretti spoke again in a voice which
+thrilled with pent-up indignation, but which he endeavoured to render
+calm and clear as he addressed the Cardinal.
+
+"Your Eminence is without doubt aware of the cause of my visit to you.
+If, as I understand, your Eminence was present at Notre Dame de Lorette
+this morning, and witnessed the regrettable conduct of the faithless
+son of the Church here present--"
+
+"Pardon! This is my affair." interposed Vergniaud, stepping forward,
+"His Eminence, Cardinal Bonpre, is not at all concerned in the matter
+of the difficult dispute which has arisen between me and my own
+conscience. You call me faithless, Monsignor,--will you explain what
+you mean by 'faithless' under these present conditions of argument?"
+
+"It shows the extent and hopelessness of your retrogression from all
+good that you should presume to ask such a question," answered Moretti,
+growing white under the natural darkness of his skin with an impotency
+of rage he could scarcely suppress, "Your sermon this morning was an
+open attack on the Church, and the amazing scene at its conclusion is a
+scandal to Christianity!"
+
+"The attack on the Church I admit," said the Abbe quietly, "I am not
+the only preacher in the world who has so attacked it. Christ Himself
+would attack it if He were to visit this earth again!"
+
+Moretti turned angrily towards the Cardinal.
+
+"Your Eminence permits this blasphemy to be uttered in your presence?"
+he demanded.
+
+"Nay, wherever and whenever I perceive blasphemy, my son, I shall
+reprove it," said the Cardinal, fixing his mild eyes steadily on
+Moretti's livid countenance, "I cannot at present admit that our
+unhappy and repentant brother here has blasphemed. In his address to
+his congregation to-day he denounced social hypocrisy, and also pointed
+out certain failings in the Church which may possibly need
+consideration and reform; but against the Gospel of Christ, or against
+the Founder of our Faith I heard no word that could be judged
+ill-fitting. As for the conclusion which so very nearly ended in
+disaster and crime, there is nothing to be said beyond the fact that
+both the persons concerned are profoundly sorry for their sins."
+
+"No sorrow can wipe out such infamy--" began Moretti hotly.
+
+"Patience! Patience, my son!" and the Cardinal raised his hand with a
+slight gesture of authority, "Surely we must believe the words of our
+Blessed Lord, 'There is more joy in Heaven over one sinner that
+repenteth than over ninety and nine just persons which have no need of
+repentance'!"
+
+"And on this old and well-worn phrase you excuse a confessed heretic?"
+said Moretti, with a sneer.
+
+"This old and well-worn phrase is the saying of our Master," answered
+the Cardinal firmly, "And it is as true as the truth of the sunshine
+which, in its old and well-worn way, lights up this world gloriously
+every morning! I would stake my very life on the depth and the truth of
+Vergniaud's penitence! Who, seeing and knowing the brand of disgrace he
+has voluntarily burnt into his own social name and honour, could doubt
+his sincerity, or refuse to raise him up, even as our Lord would have
+done, saying, 'Thy sins be forgiven thee! Go, and sin no more!'?"
+
+Moretti's furtive eyes disappeared for a moment under his discoloured
+eyelids, which quivered rapidly like the throbbings in the throat of an
+angry snake. Before he could speak again however, Vergniaud interposed.
+
+"Why trouble His Eminence with my crimes or heresies?" he said quietly,
+"I am grateful to him from my soul for his gentleness and charity of
+judgment--but I need no defence--not even from him. I am answerable to
+God alone!--neither to Church nor Creed! It was needful that I should
+speak as I spoke to-day--"
+
+"Needful to scandalize the Church?" demanded Moretti sharply.
+
+"The Church is not scandalized by a man who confesses himself an
+unworthy member of it!" returned Vergniaud, "It is better to tell the
+truth and go out of the Church than to remain in it as a liar and a
+hypocrite."
+
+"According to your own admission you have been a liar and a hypocrite
+for twenty-five years!" said Moretti bitterly, "You should have made
+your confession before, and have made it privately. There is something
+unnatural and reprehensible in the sudden blazon you have made to the
+public of your gross immorality."
+
+"'A sudden blazon' you call it,--" said the Abbe, "Well, perhaps it is!
+But murder will out, no matter how long it is kept in. You are not
+entirely aware of my position, Monseigneur. Have you the patience to
+hear a full explanation?"
+
+"I have the patience to hear because it is my duty to hear," replied
+Moretti frigidly, "I am bound to convey the whole of this matter to His
+Holiness."
+
+"True! That is your duty, and who shall say it is not also your
+pleasure!" and Vergniaud smiled a little. "Well!--Convey to His
+Holiness the news that I, Denis Vergniaud, am a dying man, and that
+knowing myself to be in that condition, and that two years at the
+utmost, is my extent of life on this planet, I have taken it seriously
+into my head to consider as to whether I am fit to meet death with a
+clean conscience. Death, Monsignor, admits of no lying, no politeness,
+no elegant sophistries! Now, the more I have considered, the more I am
+aware of my total unfitness to confront whatever may be waiting for me
+in the Afterwards of death--(for without doubt there is an
+afterwards,)--and being conscious of having done at least one grave
+injury to an innocent person, I have taken the best and quickest way to
+make full amends. I wronged a woman--this boy's mother--" and he
+indicated with a slight gesture Cyrillon, who had remained a silent
+witness of the scene,--"and the boy himself from early years set his
+mind and his will to avenge his mother's dishonour. I--the chief actor
+in the drama,--am thus responsible for a woman's misery and shame; and
+am equally responsible for the murderous spirit which has animated one,
+who without this feeling, would have been a promising fellow enough.
+The woman I wronged, alas!--is dead, and I cannot reinstate her name,
+save in an open acknowledgment of her child, my son. I do acknowledge
+him,--I acknowledge him in your presence, and therefore virtually in
+the presence of His Holiness. I thus help to remove the stigma I myself
+set on his name. Plainly speaking, Monsignor, we men have no right
+whatever to launch human beings into the world with the 'bar sinister'
+branded upon them. We have no right, if we follow Christ, to do
+anything that may injure or cause trouble to any other creature. We
+have no right to be hasty in our judgment, even of sin."
+
+"Sin is sin,--and demands punishment--" interrupted Moretti.
+
+"You quote the law of Moses, Monsignor! I speak with the premise 'if'.
+IF we follow Christ;--if we do not, the matter is of course different.
+We can then twist Scripture to suit our own purpose. We can organise
+systems which are agreeable to our own convenience or profit, but which
+have nothing whatever of Christ's Divine Spirit of universal love and
+compassion in them. My action this morning was unusual and quixotic no
+doubt. Yet, it seemed to me the only way to comport myself under those
+particular circumstances. I did a wrong--I seek to make amends. I
+believe this is what God would have me do. I believe that the Supernal
+Forces judge our sins against each other to be of a far worse nature
+than sins against Church or Creed. I also believe that if we try to
+amend our injustices and set crooked things straight, death will be an
+easier business, and Heaven will come a little nearer to our souls. As
+for my attack on the Church--"
+
+"Ah truly! What of your attack on the Church?" said Moretti, his small
+eyes glistening, and his breath going and coming quickly.
+
+"I would say every word of it again with absolute conviction," declared
+Vergniaud, "for I have said nothing but the truth! There is a movement
+in the world, Monsignor, that all the powers of Rome are unable to cope
+with!--the movement of an advancing resistless force called Truth,--the
+Voice of God,--the Voice of Christ! Truth cannot be choked, murdered
+and killed nowadays as in the early Inquisition! Rather than that the
+Voice of Truth should be silenced or murdered now at this period of
+time, God will shake down Rome!"
+
+"Not so!" exclaimed Moretti hotly--"Every nation in the world shall
+perish before Rome shall lose her sacred power! She is the 'headstone
+of the corner'--and 'upon whomsoever that stone shall fall, it shall
+grind him to powder!'"
+
+"You think so?" and Verginaud shrugged his shoulders ever so
+slightly--"Well! For me, I believe that material as well as spiritual
+forces combine to fight against long-concealed sin and practised old
+hypocrisies. It would not surprise me if the volcanic agencies which
+are for ever at work beneath the blood-stained soil of Italy, were to
+meet under the Eternal City, and in one fell burst of flame and thunder
+prove its temporary and ephemeral worth! The other day an earthquake
+shook the walls of Rome and sent a warning shock through St. Peter's.
+St. Peter's, with its vast treasures, its gilded shrines, its locked-up
+wealth, its magnificence,--a strange contrast to Italy itself!--Italy
+with its people ground down under the heel of a frightful taxation,
+starving, and in the iron bonds of poverty! 'The Pope is a prisoner and
+can do nothing'? Monsignor, the Pope is a prisoner by his own choice!
+If he elected to walk abroad among the people and scatter Peter's Pence
+among the sick and needy, he would then perhaps be BEGINNING to do the
+duties our Lord enjoined on all His disciples!"
+
+Moretti had stood immovable during this speech, his dark face rigid,
+his eyes downcast, listening to every word, but now he raised his hand
+with an authoritative gesture.
+
+"Enough!" he said, "I will hear no more! You know the consequences of
+this at the Vatican?"
+
+"I do."
+
+"You are prepared to accept them?"
+
+"As prepared as any of the truth-tellers who were burned for the love
+of Christ by the Inquisition," replied Vergniaud deliberately. "The
+world is wide,--there is room for me in it outside the Church."
+
+"One would imagine you were bitten by the new 'Christian Democratic'
+craze," said Moretti with a cold smile, "And that you were a reader and
+follower of the Socialist, Gys Grandit!"
+
+At this name, Vergniaud's son Cyrillon stirred, and lifting his dark
+handsome head turned his flashing eyes full on the speaker.
+
+"Did you address me, Monsignor?" he queried, in a voice rich with the
+musical inflexions of Southern France, "I am Gys Grandit!"
+
+Had he fired another pistol shot in the quiet room as he had fired it
+in the church, it could hardly have created a more profound sensation.
+
+"You--you--" stammered Moretti, retreating from him as from some
+loathsome abomination, "You--Gys Grandit!"
+
+"You, Cyrillon!--you!--you, my son!"--and the Abbe almost lost breath
+in the extremity of his amazement, while Cardinal Bonpre half rose from
+his chair doubting whether he had heard aright. Gys Grandit!--the
+writer of fierce political polemics and powerful essays that were the
+life and soul, meat and drink of all the members of the Christian
+Democratic party!
+
+"Gys Grandit is my nom-de-plume," pursued the young man, composedly, "I
+never had any hope of being acknowledged as Cyrillon Vergniaud, son of
+my father,--I had truly no name and resolved to create one. That is the
+sole explanation. My history has made me--not myself."
+
+There was a dead pause. At last Moretti spoke.
+
+"I have no place here!" he said, biting his lips hard to keep them from
+trembling with rage, "This house which I thought was the abode of a
+true daughter of the Church, Donna Sovrani, is apparently for the
+moment a refuge for heretics. And I find these heretics kept in
+countenance by Cardinal Felix Bonpre, whose reputation for justice and
+holiness should surely move him to denounce them were he not held in
+check by some malignant spirit of evil, which seems to possess this
+atmosphere--"
+
+"Monsignor Moretti," interposed the Cardinal with dignity, "it is no
+part of justice or holiness to denounce anything or anybody till the
+full rights of the case have been heard. I was as unaware as yourself
+that this young man, Cyrillon Vergniaud, was the daring writer who has
+sent his assumed name of 'Gys Grandit' like a flame through Europe. I
+have read his books, and cannot justly denounce them, because they are
+expressed in the language of one who is ardently and passionately
+seeking for Truth. Equally, I cannot denounce the Abbe, because he has
+confessed his sin, declared himself as he is, to the public, saved his
+son from being a parricide, and has to some extent we trust, made his
+peace with God. If you can find any point on which, as a servant of
+Christ, I can denounce these two human beings who share with me the
+strange and awful privileges of life and death, and the promise of an
+immortal hereafter, I give you leave to do so. The works of Gys Grandit
+do not blaspheme Christ,--they call, they clamour, they appeal for
+Christ through all and in all--"
+
+"And with all this clamour and appeal their writer is willing to become
+a murderer!" said Moretti satirically.
+
+Young Vergniaud sprang forward.
+
+"Monsignor, in the name of the Master you profess to serve I would
+advise you to set a watch upon your tongue!" he said, "Granted that I
+was willing to murder the man who had made my mother's life a misery, I
+was also willing to answer to God for it! I saw my mother die--" here
+he gave a quick glance towards the Abbe who instinctively shrank at his
+words, "I shall pain you, my father, by what I say, but the pain is
+perhaps good for us both! I repeat--I saw my mother die. She passed
+away uncomforted after a long life of patient loneliness and
+sorrow--for she was faithful to the last, ever faithful! I have seen
+her weep in the silence of the night!--I have heard her ever since I
+was able to understand the sound of weeping! Oh, those tears!--Do you
+not think God has seen them! She worked and toiled, and starved herself
+to educate me,--she had no friends, for she had 'fallen', they said,
+and sometimes she could get no employment, and often we starved
+together; and when I thought of the man who had done this thing, even
+as a young boy I said to myself, 'I will kill him!' She did not mean,
+poor mother, to curse her lover to me--but unconsciously she did,--her
+sorrow was so great--her loneliness so bitter!"
+
+Moretti gave a gesture of impatience and contempt. Cyrillon noted it,
+and his dark eyes flashed, but he went on steadily,--
+
+"And then I saw her die--she stretched her poor thin hard-working hands
+out to God, and over and over again she muttered and moaned in her
+fever the refrain of an old peasant song we have in Touraine, 'Oh, la
+tristesse d'avoir aime!' If you had heard her--if you had seen her--if
+you had, or have a heart to feel, nerves to wrench, a brain to rack,
+blood to be stung to frenzy, you would,--seeing your mother perish
+thus,--have thought, that to kill the man who had made such a wreck of
+a sweet pure life, would be a just, aye even a virtuous deed! I thought
+so. But my intended vengeance was frustrated--whether by the act of
+God, who can say? But the conduct of the man whom I am now proud to
+call my father--"
+
+"You have great cause for pride!" said Moretti sarcastically.
+
+"I think I have"--said the young man, "In the close extremity of death
+at my hands, he won my respect. He shall keep it. It will be my glory
+now to show him what a son's love and pardon may be. If it be true as I
+understand, that he is attacked by a disease which needs must be fatal,
+his last hours will not be desolate! It may be that I shall give him
+more comfort than Churches,--more confidence than Creeds! It may be
+that the clasp of my hand in his may be a better preparation for his
+meeting with God,--and my mother,--than the touch of the Holy Oils in
+Extreme Unction!"
+
+"Like all your accursed sect, you blaspheme the
+Sacraments"--interrupted Moretti indignantly--"And in the very presence
+of one of her chiefest Cardinals, you scorn the Church!"
+
+Cyrillon gave a quick gesture of emphatic denial.
+
+"Monsignor, I do not scorn the Church,--but I think that honesty and
+fair dealing with one another is better than any Church! Christ had no
+Church. He built no temples, He amassed no wealth,--He preached simply
+to those who would hear Him under the arching sky,--in the open air! He
+prophesied the fall of temples; 'In this place,' He said, 'is One
+greater than the temple.' [Footnote: Matt. xii. v. 6.] He sought to
+destroy long built-up hypocrisies. 'My house is called the house of
+prayer, but ye have made it a den of thieves.' Thieves, not only of
+gold, but of honour!--thieves of the very Gospel, which has been
+tampered with and twisted to suit the times, the conditions and
+opinions of varying phases of priestcraft. Who that has read, and
+thought, and travelled and studied the manuscripts hidden away in the
+old monasteries of Armenia and Syria, believes that the Saviour of the
+world ever condescended to 'pun' on the word Petrus, and say, 'On this
+Rock (or stone) I will build my Church,' when He already knew that He
+had to deal with a coward who would soon deny Him?"
+
+"Enough! I will hear no further!" cried Moretti, turning livid with
+fury--"Cardinal Bonpre, I appeal to you . . ."
+
+But Cyrillon went on unheedingly,--
+
+"Beware of that symbol of your Church, Monsignor! It is a very strange
+one! It seems about to be expanded into a reality of dreadful earnest!
+'I know not the man,' said Peter. Does not the glittering of the
+world's wealth piled into the Vatican,--useless wealth lying idle in
+the midst of hideous beggary and starvation,--proclaim with no
+uncertain voice, 'I KNOW NOT THE MAN'? The Man of sorrows,--the Man of
+tender and pitying heart,--the Man who could not send the multitude
+away without bread, and compassed a miracle to give it to them,--the
+Man who wept for a friend's death,--who took little children in His
+arms and blessed them,--who pardoned the unhappy outcast and said, 'Sin
+no more,'--who was so selfless, so pure, so strong, so great, that even
+sceptics, while denying His Divinity, are compelled to own that His
+life and His actions were more Divine than those of any other creature
+in human shape that has ever walked the earth! Monsignor, there is no
+true representative of Christ in this world!"
+
+"Not for heretics possibly," said Moretti disdainfully.
+
+"For no one!" said Cyrillon passionately--"For no poor sinking, seeking
+soul is there any such visible comforter! But there is a grand tendency
+in Mankind to absorb His Spirit and His teaching;--to turn from forms
+and shadows of faith to the Faith itself,--from descriptions of a
+possible heaven to the REAL Heaven, which is being disclosed to us in
+transcendent glimpses through the jewel-gates of science! There were
+twelve gates in the visioned heaven of St. John,--and each gate was
+composed of one pearl! Truly do the scoffers say that never did any
+planetary sea provide such pearls as these! No,--for they were but
+prophetic emblems of the then undiscovered Sciences. Ah,
+Monsignor!--and what of the psychic senses and forces?--forces which we
+are just beginning to discover and to use,--forces which enable me to
+read your mind at this present moment and to see how willingly you
+would send me to the burning, Christian as you call yourself, for my
+thoughts and opinions!--as your long-ago predecessors did with all men
+who dared to reason for themselves! But that time has passed,
+Monsignor; the Spirit of Christ in the world has conquered the Church
+THERE!"
+
+The words rushed from his lips with a fervid eloquence that was
+absolutely startling,--his eyes were aglow with feeling--his face so
+animated and inspired, that it seemed as though a flame behind it
+illumined every feature. Abbe Vergniaud, astonished and overcome, laid
+a trembling hand on the arm of the passionate speaker with a gesture
+more of appeal than restraint, and the young man caught that hand
+within his own and held it fast. Moretti for a moment fixed his eyes
+upon father and son with an expression of intense hatred that darkened
+his face with a deep shadow as of a black mask,--and then without a
+word deliberately turned his back upon both.
+
+"Your Eminence has heard all this," he said coldly, addressing the
+Cardinal who sat rigidly in his chair, silent and very pale.
+
+"I have," replied Bonpre in a low strained tone.
+
+"And I presume your Eminence permits--?"
+
+"Why talk of permission?" interrupted the Cardinal, raising his eyes
+with a sorrowful look, "Who is to permit or deny freedom of speech in
+these days? Have I--have you--the right to declare that a man shall not
+express his thoughts? In what way are we to act? Deny a hearing? We
+cannot--we dare not--not if we obey our Lord, who says, 'Whatsoever ye
+would that men should do unto you, do ye even so to them.' If we ask
+for ourselves to be heard, we must also hear."
+
+"We may hear--but in such a case as the present one must we not also
+condemn?" demanded Moretti, watching the venerable prelate narrowly.
+
+"We can only condemn in the case of a great sin," replied Bonpre
+gently, "and even then our condemnation must be passed with fear and
+trembling, and with full knowledge of all the facts pertaining to the
+error. 'Judge not that ye be not judged.' We are told plainly that our
+brother may sin against us not only seven times but seventy times
+seven, and still we are bound to forgive, to sustain, to help, and not
+to trample down the already fallen."
+
+"These are your Eminence's opinions?" said Moretti.
+
+"Most assuredly! Are they not yours?"
+
+Moretti smiled coldly.
+
+"No. I confess they are not! I am a faithful servant of the Church; and
+the Church is a system of moral government in which, if the slightest
+laxity be permitted, the whole fabric is in danger--"
+
+"A house of cards then, which a breath may blow down!" interposed "Gys
+Grandit," otherwise Cyrillon Vergniaud, "Surely an unstable foundation
+for the everlasting ethics of Christ!"
+
+"I did not speak to you, sir," said Moretti, turning upon him angrily.
+
+"I know you did not. I spoke to you," answered the young man coolly, "I
+have as much right to speak to you, as you have to speak to me, or to
+be silent--if you choose. You say the Church is a system of moral
+government. Well, look back on the past, and see what it has done in
+the way of governing. In the very earliest days of Christianity, when
+men were simple and sincere, when their faith in the power of the
+Divine things was strong and pure, the Church was indeed a safeguard,
+and a powerful restraint on man's uneducated licentiousness and
+inherent love of strife. But when the lust of gain began to creep like
+a fever into the blood of those with whom worldly riches should be as
+nothing compared to the riches of the mind, the heart, and the spirit,
+then the dryrot of hypocrisy set in--then came craftiness, cruelty,
+injustice, and pitilessness, and such grossness of personal conduct as
+revolts even the soul of an admitted sinner. Moral government? Where is
+it to day? Look at France--Italy--Spain! Count up the lies told by the
+priests in these countries to feed the follies of the ignorant! Did
+Christ ever tell lies? No. Then why, if you are His follower, do you
+tell them?"
+
+"I repeat, I did not speak to you," said Moretti, his eyes sparkling
+with fury,--"To me you are a heretic, accursed, and
+excommunicate!--thrust out of salvation, and beyond my province to deal
+with!"
+
+"Oh, that a man should be thrust out of salvation in these Christian
+days!" exclaimed Cyrillon with a flashing look of scorn, "And that he
+should find a servant of Christ to tell him so! Accursed and
+excommunicate! Then I am a kind of leper in the social community! And
+you, as a disciple of your Master, should heal me of my infirmity--and
+cleanse me of my Leprosy! Loathsome as leprosy is whether of mind or
+body, Christ never thrust it out of salvation!"
+
+"The leper must wish to be cleansed!" said Moretti fiercely, "If he
+does not himself seek to be healed of his evil, no miracle can help
+him."
+
+"Oh but I do seek!" And young Vergniaud threw back his handsome head
+with a splendid gesture of appeal, "With all my soul, if I am diseased,
+I wish to be cleansed! Will YOU cleanse me? CAN you? I wish to stand up
+whole and pure, face to face with the Divine in this world, and praise
+Him for His goodness to me. But surely if He is to be found anywhere it
+is in the Spirit of Truth! Not in any sort of a lie! Now, according to
+His own words the Holy Ghost is the Spirit of Truth. 'When the Spirit
+of Truth is come He will guide you into all Truth.' And what then?
+Monsignor, it is somewhat dangerous to oppose the Spirit of Truth,
+whether that Force speak through the innocent lips of a child or the
+diseased ones of a leper! 'For whosoever speaketh a word against the
+Son of Man it shall be forgiven him, BUT WHOSOEVER SPEAKETH AGAINST THE
+HOLY GHOST'--or the Spirit of Truth, known sometimes as Inspiration . .
+. "IT SHALL NOT BE FORGIVEN HIM in this world, neither in the world to
+come.' That is a terrible curse, which an ocean of Holy Water could
+scarcely wash away!"
+
+"Your argument is wide of the mark," said Moretti, impatiently, yet
+forced in spite of himself to defend his position, "the Church is not
+opposed to Truth but to Atheism."
+
+"Atheism! There is no such thing as a real atheist in the world!"
+declared Cyrillon passionately, "No reasoning human being alive, that
+has not felt the impress of the Divine Image in himself and in all the
+universe around him! He may, through apathy and the falsehoods of
+priestcraft, have descended into callousness, indifference and egotism,
+but he knows well that that impress cannot be stamped out--that he will
+have to account for his part, however small it be, in the magnificent
+pageant of life and work, for he has not been sent into it 'on chance.'
+Inasmuch as if there is chance in one thing there must be chance in
+another, and the solar system is too mathematically designed to be a
+haphazard arrangement. With all our cleverness, our logic, our
+geometrical skill, we can do nothing so exact! As part of the solar
+system, you and I have our trifling business to enact, Monsignor,--and
+to enact it properly, and with satisfaction to our Supreme Employer, it
+seems to me that if we are honest with the world and with each other,
+we shall be on the right road."
+
+"For my part, I am perfectly honest with you," said Moretti smiling
+darkly, "I told you, and I tell you again, that to me you are a
+heretic, accursed and excommunicate. You will, as the democrat 'Gys
+Grandit,' no doubt feel a peculiar pleasure when your father is also
+declared accursed and excommunicate. I have said, and I say again, that
+the Church is a system of moral government, and that no laxity can be
+permitted. It is a system founded on the Gospel of our Lord, but to
+obey the commands of our Lord to the letter we should have to find
+another world to live in--"
+
+"Pardon me--I ask for information," interposed Cyrillon, "You of course
+maintain that Christ was God in Man?"
+
+"Most absolutely!"
+
+"And yet you say that to obey His commands to the letter we should have
+to find another world to live in! Strange! Since He made the world and
+knows all our capabilities of progress! But have you never fancied it
+possible that we may be forced to obey His commands to the letter, or
+perish for refusing to do so?"
+
+Moretti made as though he would have sprung forward,--his face was
+drawn and rigid, his lips tightly compressed, but he had no answer to
+this unanswerable logic. He therefore took refuge in turning brusquely
+away as before and was about to address himself to Bonpre, but stopped
+short, as he perceived Manuel, who had entered while the conversation
+was going on, and who now stood quietly by the Cardinal's chair in an
+attitude of composed attention. Moretti glanced at him with a vexed
+sense of irritation and reluctant wonder;--then moistening his dry lips
+he began,
+
+"I am bound to regret deeply that your Eminence has allowed this
+painful discussion to take place in your presence without reproof. But
+I presume you are aware of the responsibility incurred?"
+
+The Cardinal slowly inclined his head in grave assent.
+
+"In relating the scene of to-day to His Holiness, I shall be compelled
+to mention the attitude you have maintained throughout the
+conversation."
+
+"You are at perfect liberty to do so, my son," said Bonpre with
+unruffled gentleness.
+
+Moretti hesitated. His eyes again rested on Manuel.
+
+"Pardon me," he said suddenly and irrelevantly, "This boy . . ."
+
+"Is a foundling," said the Cardinal, "He stays with me till I can place
+him well in the world. He has no friends."
+
+"He took some part in the affair of this morning, I believe?" queried
+Moretti, with a doubtful air.
+
+"He saved my life," said Abbe Vergniaud advancing, "It was not
+particularly worth saving--but he did it. And I owe him much--for in
+saving me, he also saved Cyrillon from something worse than death."
+
+
+"Naturally you must be very gratefu," retorted Moretti satirically,
+"The affection of a son you have denied for twenty-five years must be
+exceedingly gratifying to you!" He paused--then said, "Does this boy
+belong to the Church?"
+
+"No," said Manuel, answering for himself, "I have no Church."
+
+"No Church!" exclaimed Moretti, "His Eminence must educate you, boy.
+You must be received."
+
+"Yes," said Manuel, raising his eyes, and fixing them full on Moretti,
+"I must be received! I need education to understand the Church. And
+so,--for me to be received might be difficult!"
+
+
+
+
+XVI.
+
+As he thus spoke, slowly and with an exquisite softness, something in
+his voice, manner, or words aroused a sudden and violent antipathy in
+Moretti's mind. He became curiously annoyed, without any possible
+cause, and out of his annoyance answered roughly.
+
+"Ignorance is always difficult to deal with," he said, "But if it is
+not accompanied by self-will or obstinacy--(and boys of your age are
+apt to be self-willed and obstinate)--then much can be done. The Church
+has infinite patience even with refractory sinners."
+
+"Has it?" asked Manuel simply, and his clear eyes, turning slowly
+towards Vergniaud and his son, rested there a moment, and then came
+back to fix the same steady look upon Moretti's face. Not another word
+did he say,--but Moretti flushed darkly, and anon grew very pale.
+Restraining his emotions however by an effort, he addressed himself
+with cold formality once more to the Abbe.
+
+"You have no explanation then to offer to His Holiness, beyond what you
+have already said?"
+
+"None!" replied Vergniaud steadily. "The reasons for my conduct I think
+are sufficiently vital and earnest to be easily understood."
+
+"And your Eminence has nothing more to say on this matter?" pursued
+Moretti, turning to the Cardinal.
+
+"Nothing, my son! But I would urge that the Holy Father should extend
+his pardon to the offenders, the more so as one of them is on the verge
+of that land where we 'go hence and are no more seen.'"
+
+Moretti's eyelids quivered, and his lips drew together in a hard and
+cruel line.
+
+"I will assuredly represent your wishes to His Holiness," he replied,
+"But I doubt whether they will meet with so much approval as surprise
+and regret. I have the honour to wish your Eminence farewell!"
+
+"Farewell, my son!" said the Cardinal mildly, "Benedicite!"
+
+Moretti bent down, as custom forced him to do, under the gently uttered
+blessing, and the extended thin white hand that signed the cross above
+him. Then with a furtive under-glance at Manuel, whose quiet and
+contemplative observation of him greatly vexed and disturbed his
+composure, he left the room.
+
+There was a short silence. Then Abbe Vergniaud, somewhat hesitatingly,
+approached Bonpre.
+
+"I much fear, my dear friend, that all this means unpleasantness for
+you at the Vatican," he said, "And I sincerely grieve to be the means
+of bringing you into any trouble."
+
+"Nay, there should be no trouble," said Bonpre quietly, "Nothing has
+happened which should really cause me any perplexity--on the contrary,
+events have arranged themselves so that there shall be no obstacle in
+the way of speaking my mind. I have journeyed far from my diocese to
+study and to discover for myself the various phases of opinion on
+religious matters in these days, and I am steadily learning much as I
+go. I regret nothing, and would have nothing altered,--for I am
+perfectly confident that in all the things I meet, or may have to
+consider, my Master is my Guide. All is well wherever we hear His
+Voice;--all things work for the best when we are able to perceive His
+command clearly, and have strength and resolution enough to forsake our
+sins and follow Him."
+
+As he spoke, a tranquil smile brightened his venerable features, and
+seeing the fine small hand of Manuel resting on his chair, he laid his
+own wrinkled palm over it and clasped it tenderly. Cyrillon Vergniaud,
+moved by a quick impulse, suddenly advanced towards him.
+
+"Monseigneur," he said, with unaffected deference, "You are much more
+than a Cardinal,--you are a good and honest man! And that you serve
+Christ purely is plainly evidenced in your look and bearing. Do me one
+favour! Extend your pardon to me for my almost committed crime of
+to-day,--and give me your blessing! I will try to be worthy of it!"
+
+The Cardinal was silent for a few minutes looking at him earnestly.
+
+"My blessing is of small value," he said, "And yet I do not think you
+would ask it for mere mockery of an old man's faith. I should like,--"
+here he paused--then slowly went on again, "I should like to say a few
+words to you if I might--to ask you one or two questions concerning
+yourself--"
+
+"Ask anything you please, Monseigneur," replied Cyrillon, "I will
+answer you frankly and fully. I have never had any mysteries in my life
+save one,--that of my birth, which up till to day was a stigma and a
+drawback;--but now, I feel I may be proud of my father. A man who
+sacrifices his entire social reputation and position to make amends for
+a wrong done to the innocent is worthy of honour."
+
+"I grant it!" said the Cardinal, "But you yourself--why have you made a
+name which is like a firebrand to start a conflagration of discord in
+Europe?--why do you use your gifts of language and expression to awaken
+a national danger which even the strongest Government may find itself
+unable to stand against? I do not blame you till I hear,--till I
+know;--but your writings,--your appeals for truth in all things,--are
+like loud clarion blasts which may awaken more evil than good."
+
+"Monseigneur, the evil is not of my making,--it exists!" replied
+Cyrillon, "My name, my writings,--are only as a spark from the huge
+smouldering fire of religious discontent in the world. If it were not
+MY name it would be another's. If _I_ did not write or speak, someone
+else would write and speak--perhaps better--perhaps not so well. At any
+rate I am sincere in my convictions, and write from the fulness of the
+heart. I do not care for money--I make none at all by literature,--but
+I earn enough by my labour in the fields to keep me in food and
+lodging. I have no desire for fame,--except in so far as my name may
+serve as an encouragement and help to others. If you care to hear my
+story--"
+
+"I should appreciate your confidence greatly," said the Cardinal
+earnestly, "The Fates have made you a leading spirit of the time,--it
+would interest me to know your thoughts and theories. But if you would
+prefer not to speak--"
+
+"I generally prefer not to speak," replied Cyrillon, "But to-day is one
+of open confession,--and I think too that it is sometimes advisable for
+men of the Church to understand and enter into the minds of those who
+are outside the Church,--who will have no Church,--not from
+disobedience or insubordination, but simply because they do not find
+God or Christ in that institution as it at present exists. And nowadays
+we are seeking for God strenuously and passionately! We have found Him
+too in places where the Church assured us He was not and could not be."
+
+"Is there any portion of life where God is not?" asked Manuel gently.
+
+Cyrillon's dark eyes softened as he met the boy's glance.
+
+"No, dear child!--truly there is not,--but the priests do nothing to
+maintain or to prove that," he replied; "and the more the world lifts
+itself higher and higher into the light, the more we shall perceive
+God, and the less we will permit anything to intervene between
+ourselves and Him. But you are too young to understand--"
+
+"No, not at all too young to understand!" answered Manuel, "Not at all
+too young to understand that God is love, and pardon, and
+patience;--and that wheresoever men are intolerant, uncharitable, and
+bigoted, there they straightway depart from God and know Him not at
+all."
+
+"Truly that is how I understand Christianity," said Cyrillon, "But for
+so simple and plain a perception of duty one is called atheist and
+socialist, and one's opinions are branded as dangerous to the
+community. Truth is dangerous, I know--but why?"
+
+"Would that not take a century to explain?" said the silvery voice of
+the Princesse D'Agramont, who entered with Angela at that moment, and
+made her deep obeisance before the Cardinal, glancing inquisitively as
+she did so at Manuel who still stood resting against the prelate's
+chair, "Pardon our abrupt appearance, Monseigneur, but Angela and I are
+moved by the spirit of curiosity!--and if we are swept out of the
+Church like straws before the wind for our impertinence, we care not!
+Monsignor Moretti has just left the house, wrapt up in his wrath like a
+bird of prey in a thunder-cloud, muttering menaces against 'Gys
+Grandit' the Socialist writer. Now what in the world has Gys Grandit to
+do with him or with us? Salut, cher Abbe!"--and she gave Vergniaud her
+hand with charming friendliness; "I came here really to see you, and
+place the Chateau D'Agramont at your disposal, while I am away passing
+the winter in Italy. Pray make yourself at home there--and your son
+also . . ."
+
+"Madame," said the Abbe, profoundly touched by the sincerity of her
+manner, and by the evident cordiality of her intention, "I thank you
+from my heart for your friendship at this moment when friendship is
+most needed! But I feel I ought not to cast the shadow of my presence
+on your house under such circumstances--and as for my son--it would
+certainly be unwise for you to extend your gracious hospitality to him
+. . . he is my son--yes truly!--and I acknowledge him as such; but he
+is also another person of his own making--Gys Grandit!"
+
+Angela Sovrani gave a slight cry, and a wave of colour flushed her
+face,--the Princesse stood amazed.
+
+"Gys Grandit!" she echoed in a low tone, "And Vergniaud's son! Grand
+Dieu! Is it possible!" Then advancing, she extended both her hands to
+Cyrillon, "Monsieur, accept my homage! You have a supreme genius,--and
+with it you command more than one-half of the thoughts of France!"
+
+Cyrillon took her hands,--lightly pressed, and released them.
+
+"Madame, you are too generous!"
+
+But even while he exchanged these courtesies with her, his eyes were
+fixed on Angela Sovrani, who, moving close to her uncle's chair, had
+folded her hands upon its sculptured edge and now stood beside it, a
+graceful nymph-like figure of statuesque repose. But her breath came
+and went quickly, and her face was very pale.
+
+"No wonder Monsignor Moretti was so exceedingly angry," resumed the
+Princesse D'Agramont with a smile, "I understand the position now. It
+is a truly remarkable one. Monseigneur," this with a profound reverence
+to the Cardinal, "you have found it difficult to be umpire in the
+discussion."
+
+"The discussion was not mine," said the Cardinal slowly, "But the cause
+of the trouble is a point which affects many,--and I am one of those
+who desire to hear all before I presume to judge one. I have asked the
+son of my old friend Vergniaud to tell me what led him to make his
+assumed name one of such terror and confusion in the world; he is but
+six-and-twenty, and yet . . ."
+
+"And yet people talk much of me you would say, Monseigneur," said
+Cyrillon, a touch of scorn lighting up his fine eyes, "True, and it is
+easy to be talked of. That is nothing, I do not wish for that, except
+in so far as it helps me to attain my ambition."
+
+"And that ambition is?" queried the Princesse.
+
+"To lead!" answered Cyrillon with a passionate gesture, "To gather the
+straying thoughts of men into one burning focus--and turn THAT fire on
+the world!"
+
+They were all silent for a minute--then the Princesse D'Agramont spoke
+again--
+
+"But--Pardon me! Then you were about to destroy all your own chances of
+the future in your wild impulse of this morning?"
+
+"Oh, Madame, it was no wild impulse! When a man takes an oath by the
+side of a dead woman, and that woman his mother, he generally means to
+keep it! And I most resolutely meant to kill my father and make of
+myself a parricide. But I considered my mother had been murdered
+too--socially and morally--and I judged my vengeance just. If it had
+not been for the boy there--" and he glanced at Manuel, "I should
+certainly have fulfilled my intention."
+
+"And then there would have been no Abbe Vergniaud, and no 'Gys
+Grandit,'" said the Princesse lightly, endeavouring to change the
+sombre tone of the conversation,--"and the 'Christian Democratic' party
+would have been in sackcloth and ashes!"
+
+"The Christian Democratic party!" echoed the Cardinal, "What do they
+mean? What do they want?"
+
+"Christianity, Monseigneur! That is all!" replied Cyrillon, "All--but
+so much! You asked me for my history--will you hear it now?"
+
+There was an immediate murmur of assent, and the group around Cardinal
+Bonpre were soon seated--all save Manuel, who remained standing. Angela
+sat on a cushion at her uncle's feet, and her deep violet eyes were
+full of an eager, almost feverish interest which she could scarcely
+conceal; and the Abbe Vergniaud, vitally and painfully concerned as he
+was in the narrative about to be told, could not help looking at her,
+and wondering at the extraordinary light and beauty of her face thus
+transfigured by an excitation of thought. Was she a secret follower of
+his son's theories, he wondered? Composing himself in his chair, he sat
+with bent head, marvelling as he heard the story of the bold and
+fearless and philosophic life that had sprung into the world all out of
+his summer's romance with a little innocent girl, whom he had found
+praying to her guardian angel.
+
+"It is not always ourselves," began Cyrillon in his slow, emphatic, yet
+musical voice, "who are responsible for the good or the evil we may do
+in our lives. Much of our character is formed by the earliest
+impressions of childhood--and my earliest impressions were those of
+sorrow. I started life with the pulse of my mother's broken heart
+beating in me,--hence my thoughts were sombre, and of an altogether
+unnatural character to a child of tender years. We lived--my mother and
+I--in a small cottage on the edge of a meadow outside the quaint old
+city of Tours--a meadow, full at all seasons, of the loveliest wild
+flowers, but sweetest in the springtime when the narcissi bloomed,
+lifting their thousand cups of sweet perfume like incense to the sky. I
+used to sit among their cool green stems,--thinking many thoughts,
+chief among which was a wonder why God had made my little mother so
+unhappy. I heard afterwards that God was not to blame,--only man,
+breaking God's laws of equity. She was a good brave woman, for despite
+her loneliness and tears, she worked hard;--worked to send me to
+school, and to teach me all she herself knew--which was little enough,
+poor soul,--but she studied in order to instruct me,--and often when I
+slept the unconscious sleep of healthy childhood, she was up through
+half the night spelling out abstruse books, difficult enough for an
+educated woman to master, but for a peasant--(she was nothing
+more)--presenting almost superhuman obstacles. I was very quick to
+learn, and her loving patience was not wasted upon me;--but when I was
+about eleven years old I resolved that I could no longer burden her
+with the expenses of my life--so without asking her consent, I hired
+myself out to a farmer, to clear weeds from his fields, and so began to
+earn my bread, which is the best and noblest form of knowledge existing
+in the world for all of us. With the earning of my body's keep came
+spiritual independence, and young as I was I began to read and consider
+for myself--till when I was about fifteen chance brought me across the
+path of a man whose example inspired me and decided my fate, named
+Aubrey Leigh."
+
+Angela gave a slight exclamation of surprise, and Cyrillon turned his
+dark eyes upon her.
+
+"Yes, mademoiselle!--I am aware that he has been in Paris lately. No
+doubt you know him. Certainly he is born to be a leader of men, and if
+a noble life and unsullied character, together with eloquence,
+determination, and steadfastness of purpose can help him to fulfil his
+mission, he will assuredly succeed. He is from America, though born of
+British parents, and the first thing I gathered from him was an
+overwhelming desire to study and to master the English language--not
+because it was English, but because it was the universal language
+spoken by America. I felt from what he said then,--and I feel still
+from what I have learnt and know now,--that America has all the future
+in the hollow of her hand. My intention, had I succeeded in my
+revengeful attempt this morning, was to escape to America immediately,
+and from there write under the nom de plume which I have already made
+known. I can write as easily in English as in French,--for my friend
+Aubrey Leigh was very kind and took a great liking to me, and stayed in
+Touraine for a year and a half, simply for the pleasure of instructing
+me and grafting his theories upon my young and aspiring mind. And now
+we are as one in our hopes and endeavours, and the years make little
+disparity between us. He was twenty-two when I was but fifteen,--but
+now that I am twenty-six and he thirty-three we are far better matched
+associates. From him I learnt much of the discontents,--ethical and
+religious,--of the world; from him I learnt how to speak in public. He
+was then an actor, a sort of wandering 'Bohemian,'--but he soon tired
+of the sordidness of the stage and aspired to higher platforms of work,
+and he had already begun to lead the people by his powers of oratory,
+as he leads them now. I heard him speak in French as fluently as in
+English; and I resolved on my part to speak likewise in English as
+easily as he did in French. And when we parted it was with a mutual
+resolve TO LEAD!--to lead--and ever still to lead!--we would starve on
+our theories, we said, but we would speak out if it cost us our very
+lives. To earn daily bread I managed to obtain steady employment as a
+labourer in the fields,--and I soon gained sufficient to keep my mother
+and myself. My friend Aubrey had imbued me thoroughly with the love of
+incessant hard work; there was no disgrace, he said, in digging the
+soil, if the brain were kept working as well as the hands. And I did
+keep my brain working; I allowed it also to lie fallow, and to absorb
+everything of nature that was complex, grand and beautiful,--and from
+such studies I learnt the goodness and the majesty of the Creator as
+they are never found in human expositions of Him made by the preachers
+of creeds. At eighteen I made my first public address,--and the next
+year published my first book in Tours. But though I won an instant
+success my soul was hampered and heavy with the burning thought of
+vengeance; and this thought greatly hindered the true conceptions of
+life that I desired to entertain. When my mother died, and her failing
+voice crooned for the last time, 'Ah, la tristesse d'avoir aime!' the
+spark of hatred I had cherished all the years of my life for my father
+burst into a flame, and leapt up to its final height this morning as
+you saw. Now it has gone out into dust and ashes--the way of all such
+flames! I have been spared for better things I hope. What I have
+written and done, France knows,--but my thoughts are not limited to
+France, they seek a wider horizon. France is a decaying nation--her
+doom is sealed. I work and write for the To-Be, not the Has-Been. Such
+as my life is, it has never been darkened or brightened by love of any
+sort, save that which my mother gave me. Your Eminence," and he turned
+towards the Cardinal, "asks me why I inculcate theories which suggest
+change, terror and confusion;--Monseigneur, terror and confusion can
+never be caused save among the ranks of those who have secret reason to
+be terrorised! There is nothing terrifying in Truth to those who are
+true! If I distract and alarm unworthy societies, revolting hypocrism,
+established shams and miserable conventions, I am only the wielder of
+the broom that sweeps out the cobwebs and the dust from a dirty house.
+My one desire is to make the habitation of Christian souls clean!
+Terror and confusion there will be,--there must be;--the time is ripe
+for it--none of us can escape it--it is the prophesied period of 'men's
+hearts failing them for fear, and looking after those things which are
+coming on the earth.' I have not made the time. I am born OF it--one
+WITH it;--God arranges these things. I am not working for self or for
+money,--I can live on bread and herbs and water. I want no luxurious
+surroundings,--no softnesses--no delicacies--no tendernesses--no
+sympathies! I set my face forward in the teeth of a thousand winds of
+opposition, forward still forward! I seek nothing for my own personal
+needs! I know that nothing can hinder me or keep me back! Nothing!
+Monseigneur, I voice the cry of multitudes!--they have, as it were,
+been wandering in the wilderness listening to the Gospel for many
+days,--days which have accumulated to more than eighteen hundred years;
+just as they did of old,--only the Master did not send them away
+hungry--He fed them lest they should 'faint by the way.' He thought of
+that possibility!--we seldom care how many faint by the way, or die in
+the effort to live! Monseigneur, I must--I will speak for the dumb
+mouths of the nations! And every unit that can so speak, or can so
+write, should hasten to turn itself into a Pentecostal flame of fire to
+blaze and burn a warning upon the verge of this new century,--causing
+men to prophesy with divers tongues, of the Truth of God,--not of the
+lies that have been made to represent Him!"
+
+Felix Bonpre raised one hand with a slight gesture enjoining silence,
+and seemed wrapped for a moment in painful meditation. Angela looking
+anxiously up at him caught, not his glance, but that of Manuel, who
+smiled at her encouragingly. Presently the Cardinal spoke,--gently and
+with a kind of austere patience.
+
+"Am I to understand from your speech, my son, and the work of your
+life, that you consider the Church a lie? I put the question plainly;
+but I do not ask it either to reproach or intimidate you. I am well
+aware I can do neither. Thought is free to the individual as well as to
+the nations; and whereas, in past time we had one man who could think
+and speak, we have now a thousand! We are unfortunately apt to forget
+the spread of education;--but a man who thinks as you do, and dares all
+things for the right to act upon his thought, should surely be able to
+clearly explain his reasons for arming himself against any outwardly
+expressed form of faith, which has received the acceptance and
+submission of the world?"
+
+"Monseigneur, I do not attack any faith! Faith is necessary,--faith is
+superb! I honour this uplifting virtue,--whether I find it in the
+followers of the Talmud or the Koran, or the New Testament, and,
+personally speaking, I would die for my belief in the great name and
+ethical teaching of Christ. I attack the Church--yes,--and why? Because
+it has departed from the Faith! Because it is a mere system
+now,--corrupt in many parts, as all systems must naturally become when
+worn out by long usage. In many ways it favours stupid idolatries, and
+in others it remains deaf and blind and impervious to the approach of
+great spiritual and religious facts, which are being made splendidly
+manifest by Science. Why, there is not a miracle in the Testament that
+science will not make possible!--there is not a word Christ ever spoke
+that shall not be proved true! And may I not be called a Christian? I
+may,--I must,--I will be,--for I am! But hypocrisy, false measures,
+perverted aims, and low pandering to ignorance and brutality, vile
+superstition and intimidation--these things must be destroyed if the
+Church is to last with honour to itself and with usefulness to others.
+To-day, over in England, they are quarrelling with bitter acrimony
+concerning forms and outward symbols of religion, thus fulfilling the
+words of the Lord, 'Ye make clean the outside of the cup and of the
+platter but within ye are full of extortion and excess.' Now, if the
+Spirit of Christ were at all in these men who thus argue, there would
+be no trouble about forms or symbols of faith,--there would be too much
+of the faith itself for any such petty disputation. Monseigneur, I
+swear to you, I say nothing, teach nothing but what is the straight and
+true command of Christ! . . . no more, but also no less!"
+
+Moved by the young man's eloquence, the Cardinal looked at him
+straightly in the eyes.
+
+"You speak well," he said, "Some people would tell you that you have
+that fluency of tongue which is judged dangerous. But danger is after
+all only for those who have something to fear. If we of the Church are
+pure in our intent nothing should disturb our peace,--nothing should
+move us from our anchorage. Your ideas, you say, are founded on the
+Master's Word?"
+
+"Entirely," replied Cyrillon, "I am working,--Aubrey Leigh is
+working,--we are all working for a House of Praise more than a Place of
+Prayer. We want to give thanks for what we are, and what, if we follow
+the sane and healthy laws of life, we may be,--rather than continue the
+clamour for more benefits when we have already received, and are
+receiving so much."
+
+"Would you not pray at all then?" asked Bonpre.
+
+"Yes--for others, not for ourselves! And then not as the Church prays.
+Her form of service is direct disobedience!"
+
+"In what way?"
+
+"Monseigneur, I always preface my remarks on these subjects with the
+words 'IF we believe in Christ.' I say IF we believe, we must accept
+His commands; and they are plain enough. 'WHEN YE PRAY, USE NOT VAIN
+REPETITIONS AS THE HEATHEN DO, FOR THEY THINK THEY SHALL BE HEARD FOR
+THEIR MUCH SPEAKING. BE NOT YE THEREFORE LIKE UNTO THEM, FOR YOUR
+FATHER KNOWETH WHAT THINGS YE HAVE NEED OF BEFORE YE ASK HIM.' Now if
+this is to be understood as the command of Christ, the Messenger of
+God, do we not deliberately act against it in all directions? Vain
+repetitions! The Church is full of them,--choked with them! The priests
+who order us to say ten or twenty 'Paternosters' by way of penance, are
+telling us to do exactly what Christ commanded us not to do! The
+terrible Litany of the Protestant Church, with its everlasting 'Good
+Lord deliver us,' is another example of vain repetition. Again--think
+of these words--'When thou prayest, thou shalt NOT BE AS THE HYPOCRITES
+ARE, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues, and at the
+corners of the streets THAT THEY MAY BE SEEN OF MEN.' Is not all our
+churchgoing that we may be seen of men?"
+
+"Then, my son, it seems that you would do away with the Church
+altogether in the extremity of your zeal!" said the Cardinal gently,
+"There must surely be some outward seeming--some city set on a hill
+whose light cannot be hid--some visible sign of Christ among us--"
+
+"True, Monseigneur, but such a sign must be of so brilliant and pure a
+nature,--so grand an uplifted Cross of unsullied light that it shall be
+as the sun rising out of darkness! Oh, I would have churches built
+gloriously, with every possible line of beauty and curve of perfect
+architecture in their fabrication;--but I would have no idolatrous
+emblems,--no superstitious ceremonies within them,--no tawdry
+reliquaries of gems--no boast of the world's wealth at all; but great
+Art,--the result of man's great Thought rendered and given with pure
+simplicity! I would have great music,--and more than all I would have
+thanksgiving always! And if valuables were brought to the altar for
+gifts, the gifts should be given out again to those in need-not
+kept,--not left untouched like a miser's useless hoard, while one poor
+soul was starving!"
+
+"My son, such a scheme of purification as yours will take centuries to
+accomplish," murmured Bonpre slowly, "Almost it would need Christ to
+come again!"
+
+"And who shall say He will not come!" exclaimed Cyrillon fervently,
+"Who shall swear He is not even now among us! Has he not told us all to
+'watch,' because we know not the hour at which He cometh? No,
+Monseigneur!--centuries are not needed for Truth to make itself
+manifest nowadays! We hold Science by the hand,--she is becoming our
+familiar friend and companion, and through her guidance we have learned
+that the Laws of the Universe are Truth,--Truth which cannot be
+contradicted; and that only the things which move and work in harmony
+with those laws can last. All else must perish! 'WHOSOEVER IS NOT WITH
+ME IS AGAINST ME'--or in other words, whosoever opposes himself to
+Eternal Laws must be against the whole system of the Universe. and is
+therefore a discord which is bound to be silenced. Monseigneur, Christ
+was a Divine Preacher of Truth;--and I, in my humble man's way
+endeavour to follow Truth. And if I ever fail now, after to-day's
+attempted crime, to honour the commands of Christ, and obey them as
+closely as I can, then pass your condemnation upon me, but not till
+then! Meanwhile, give me a good man's blessing!"
+
+Deeply interested as he was, the Cardinal nevertheless still hesitated.
+To him, though the sayings and opinions of the famous "Gys Grandit"
+were not exactly new, there was something terrible in hearing him utter
+them with such bold and trenchant meaning. He sighed, and appeared lost
+in thought; till Manuel touched him gently on the arm.
+
+"Dear friend, are you afraid to bless this man who loves our Father?"
+
+"Afraid? My child, I am afraid of nothing--but there is grave trouble
+in my heart--"
+
+"Nay, trouble should never enter there!" said Manuel softly, "Stretch
+out your hand!--let no human soul wait for a benediction!"
+
+Profoundly moved, the Cardinal obeyed, and laid his white trembling
+hand on Cyrillon's bent head.
+
+"May God forgive thee the intention of thy sin today!" he said, in a
+low and solemn tone--"May Christ guide thee out of all evil, and lead
+thee through the wildness of the world to Heaven's own peace, which
+passeth understanding!"
+
+So gentle, so brave, so sweet and tender were the accents in which he
+spoke these few simple works, that the tears filled Angela's eyes, and
+Abbe Vergniaud, resting his head on one hand, felt a strange
+contraction in his throat, and began to think of possible happy days
+yet to be passed perchance in seclusion with this long-denied son of
+his, who had sprung out of the secret ways of love, first to slay and
+then to redeem him. Could there be a more plain and exact measuring out
+of law? If he had not confessed his sin he would have probably died in
+it suddenly without a chance of amendment or repentance--but lo!--on
+confession, his life had been saved as if by a miracle, and the very
+result of evil had been transformed into consolation! So he sat
+absorbed, wondering--musing--and while the Cardinal spoke his blessing
+with closed eyes, all heads were bent, and faces hidden. And in the
+reverent silence that followed, the gentle prelate gave a sign of kind
+dismissal and farewell to all, which they, understanding, accepted, and
+at once made their brief adieuxthe Abbe Vergniaud only lingering a
+moment longer than the rest, to bend humbly down and kiss his Apostolic
+ring. Then they left him, alone with Manual.
+
+On their way out of the house, through Angela's studio, the Princesse
+D'Agramont paused for a few minutes to say further kind words to the
+Abbe respecting the invitation she had given him to her Chateau--, and
+while she was thus engaged, Angela turned hurriedly to Cyrillon.
+
+"As 'Gys Grandit' you receive many letters from strangers, do you not?"
+
+The young man regarded her earnestly, with unconcealed admiration
+glowing in his fine eyes.
+
+"Assuredly, Mademoiselle! And some of these letters are very dear to
+me, because they make me aware of friends I might otherwise never have
+known."
+
+"You have one correspondent who is deeply interested in your theories,
+and who sympathises keenly in all your religious views--" she went on,
+lowering her eyes--"a certain Madame Angele--"
+
+He uttered a quick exclamation of pleasure.
+
+"You know her?"
+
+She looked up,--her eyes sparkled--and she laid a finger on her lips.
+
+"Keep my secret!" she said--"I am so glad to meet you personally at
+last!"
+
+He stared, bewildered.
+
+"You--you . . . !"
+
+"Yes. I!" and she smiled--"The mysterious and Christian-Democratic
+'Angele' is Angela Sovrani. So you see we have been unconscious friends
+for some time!"
+
+His face grew radiant, and he made a quick movement towards her.
+
+"Then I owe you a great debt of gratitude!" he said--"For
+encouragement--for sympathy--for help in dark hours!--and how unworthy
+I have proved of your goodness . . . what must you think of me--you--so
+beautiful--so good--"
+
+She moved back a little with a warning gesture--and his words were
+interrupted by the Abbe, who glancing from one to the other in a little
+surprise, said, as he bent reverently over her hand and kissed it,--
+
+"We must be going, Cyrillon!"
+
+Another few moments and Angela was left alone to think over, and try to
+realise the strange and rapidly-occurring events of the day. Whatever
+her thoughts were they seemed for a long time to be of a somewhat
+April-like character, for her eyes brimmed over with tears even while
+she smiled.
+
+
+
+
+XVII.
+
+In one of the few remaining streets of Rome which the vandal hand of
+the modern builder and restorer has not meddled with, stands the "Casa
+D'Angeli", a sixteenth-century building fronted with wonderfully carved
+and widely projecting balconies--each balcony more or less different in
+design, yet forming altogether in their entirety the effect of complete
+sculptural harmony. The central one looks more like a cathedral shrine
+than the embrasure of a window, for above it angels' heads look out
+from the enfolding curves of their own tall wings, and a huge shield
+which might serve as a copy of that which Elaine kept bright for
+Lancelot, is poised between, bearing a lily, a cross, and a heart
+engraven in its quarterings. Here, leaning far forward to watch the
+intense gold of the Roman moon strike brightness and shadow out of the
+dark uplifted pinions of her winged stone guardians, stood Sylvie
+Hermenstein, who, in her delicate white attire, with the moonbeams
+resting like a halo on her soft hair, might have easily passed for some
+favoured saint whom the sculptured angels were protecting. And yet she
+was only one whom the world called "a frivolous woman of society, who
+lived on the admiration of men". So little did they know her,--so
+little indeed does the world know about any of us. It was true that
+Sylvie, rich, lovely, independent, and therefore indifferent to
+opinions, lived her own life very much according to her own ideas,--but
+then those ideas were far more simple and unworldly than anybody gave
+her credit for. She to whom all the courts of Europe were open,
+preferred to wander in the woods alone, reading some favourite book, to
+almost any other pleasure,--and as for the admiration which she won by
+a look or turn of her head wherever she went, nothing in all the world
+so utterly bored her as this influence of her own charm. For she had
+tried men and found them wanting. With all the pent-up passion of her
+woman's soul she longed to be loved,--but what she understood by love
+was a much purer and more exalted emotion than is common among men and
+women. She was suffering just now from an intense and overpowering
+ennui. Rome was beautiful, she averred, but dull. Stretching her fair
+white arms out over the impervious stone-angels she said this, and more
+than this, to someone within the room, who answered her in one of the
+most delightfully toned voices in the world--a voice that charmed the
+ear by its first cadences, and left the listener fascinated into
+believing that its music was the expression of a perfectly harmonious
+mind.
+
+"You seem very discontented," said the voice, speaking in English, "But
+really your pathway is one of roses!"
+
+"You think so?" and Sylvie turned her head quickly round and looked at
+her companion, a handsome little man of some thirty-five years of age,
+who stretching himself lazily full length in an arm-chair was toying
+with the silky ears of an exceedingly minute Japanese spaniel, Sylvie's
+great pet and constant companion. "Oh, mon Dieu! You, artist and
+idealist though you are--or shall I say as you are supposed to be," and
+she laughed a little, "you are like all the rest of your sex! Just
+because you see a woman able to smile and make herself agreeable to her
+friends, and wear pretty clothes, and exchange all the bon mots of
+badinage and every-day flirtation, you imagine it impossible for her to
+have any sorrow!"
+
+"There is only one sorrow possible to a woman," replied the gentleman,
+who was no other than Florian Varillo, the ideal of Angela Sovrani's
+life, smiling as he spoke with a look in his eyes which conveyed an
+almost amorous meaning.
+
+Sylvie left the balcony abruptly, and swept back into the room, looking
+a charming figure of sylph-like slenderness and elegance in her
+clinging gown of soft white satin showered over with lace and pearls.
+
+"Only one sorrow!" she echoed, "And that is--?"
+
+"Inability to win love, or to awaken desire!" replied Varillo, still
+smiling.
+
+The pretty Comtesse raised her golden head a little more proudly, with
+the air of a lily lifting itself to the light on its stem--her deep
+blue eyes flashed.
+
+"I certainly cannot complain on that score!" she said, with a touch of
+malice as well as coldness--"But the fact that men lose their heads
+about me does not make me in the least happy."
+
+"It should do so!" and Varillo set the little Japanese dog carefully
+down on the floor, whereupon it ran straight to its mistress, uttering
+tiny cries of joy, "There is no sweeter triumph for a woman than to see
+men subjugated by her smile, and intimidated by her frown;--to watch
+them burning themselves like moths in her clear flame, and dying at her
+feet for love of her! The woman who can do these things is gifted with
+the charm which makes or ruins life,--few can resist her,--she draws
+sensitive souls as a magnet draws the needle,--and the odd part of it
+all is that she need not have any heart herself--she need not feel one
+pulse of the passion with which she inspires others--indeed it is
+better that she should not. The less she is moved herself, the greater
+is her fascination. Love clamours far more incessantly and passionately
+at a closed gate than an open one!"
+
+Sylvie was silent for a minute or two looking at him with something of
+doubt and disdain. The room they were in was one of those wide and
+lofty apartments which in old days might have been used for a prince's
+audience chamber, or a dining hall for the revelry of the golden youth
+of Imperial Rome. The ceiling, supported by eight slender marble
+columns, was richly frescoed with scenes from Ariosto's poems, some of
+the figures being still warm with colour and instinct with life--and on
+the walls were the fading remains of other pictures, the freshest among
+them being a laughing Cupid poised on a knot of honeysuckle, and
+shooting his arrow at random into the sky. Ordinarily speaking, the
+huge room was bare and comfortless to a degree,--but the Comtesse
+Sylvie's wealth, combined with her good taste, had filled it with
+things that made it homelike as well as beautiful. The thickest velvet
+pile carpets laid over the thickest of folded mattings, covered the
+marble floors, and deprived them of their usual chill,--great logs of
+wood burned cheerfully in the wide chimney, and flowers, in every sort
+of quaint vase or bowl, made bright with colour and blossom all dark
+and gloomy corners, and softened every touch of melancholy away. A
+grand piano stood open,--a mandoline tied with bright ribbons, lay on a
+little table near a cluster of roses and violets,--books, music,
+drawings, bits of old drapery and lace were so disposed as to hide all
+sharp corners and forbidding angles,--and where the frescoes on the
+wall were too damaged to be worth showing even in outline, some fine
+old Flemish tapestry covered the defect. Sylvie herself, in the
+exquisite clothing which she always made it her business to wear, was
+the brilliant completion of the general picturesqueness,--and Florian
+Varillo seemed to think so as he looked at her with the practised
+underglance of admiration which is a trick common to Italians, and
+which some women accept as a compliment and others resent as an insult.
+
+"Do you not agree with me?" he said persuasively, with a smile which
+showed his fine and even teeth to perfection, "When the chase is over
+the hunters go home tired! What a man cannot have, that very thing is
+what he tries most to obtain!"
+
+"You speak from experience, I suppose," said Sylvie, moving slowly
+across the room towards the fire, and caressing her little dog which
+she held nestled under her rounded chin like a ball of silk, "And yet
+you, more than most men, have everything you can want in this
+world--but I suppose you are not satisfied--not even with Angela!"
+
+"Angela is a dear little woman!" said Florian, with an air of emotional
+condescension, "The dearest little woman in the world! And she is
+really clever."
+
+"Clever!" echoed Sylvie, "Is that all?"
+
+"Cara Contessa, is not that enough?"
+
+"Angela is a genius," averred Sylvie, with warmth and energy, "a true
+genius!--a great,--a sublime artist!"
+
+"Che Che!" and Varillo smiled, "How delightful it is to hear one woman
+praise another! Women are so often like cats spitting and hissing at
+each other, tearing at each other's clothes and reputations,--clothes
+even more than reputations,--that it is really quite beautiful to me to
+hear you admire my Angela! It is very generous of you!"
+
+"Generous of me!" and the Comtesse Hermenstein looked him full in the
+eyes, "Why I think it an honour to know her--a privilege to touch her
+hand! All Europe admires her--she is one of the world's greatest
+artists."
+
+"She paints wonderfully well,--for a woman," said Varillo lazily, "But
+there is so much in that phrase, cara Contessa, 'for a woman'. Your
+charming sex often succeeds in doing very clever and pretty things; but
+in a man they would not be considered surprising. You fairy creatures
+are not made for fame--but for love!"
+
+The Comtesse glanced him up and down for a moment, then laughed
+musically.
+
+"And for desertion, and neglect as well!" she said, "And sometimes for
+bestowing upon YOUR charming sex every fortune and every good blessing,
+and getting kicked for our pains! And sometimes it happens that we are
+permitted the amazing honour of toiling to keep you in food and
+clothing, while you jest at your clubs about the uselessness of woman's
+work in the world! Yes, I know! Have you seen Angela's great picture?"
+
+Again Florian smiled.
+
+"Great? No! I know that the dear little girl has fixed an enormous
+canvas up in her studio, and that she actually gets on a ladder to
+paint something upon it;--but it is always covered,--she does not wish
+me to see it till it is finished. She is like a child in some things,
+and I always humour her. I have not the least desire to look at her
+work till she herself is willing to show it to me. But in myself I am
+convinced she is trying to do too much--it is altogether too large an
+attempt."
+
+"What are YOU doing?" asked Sylvie abruptly.
+
+"Merely delicate trifles,--little mosaics of art!" said Varillo with
+languid satisfaction, "They may possibly please a connoisseur,--but
+they are quite small studies."
+
+"You have the same model you had last year?" queried Sylvie.
+
+Their eyes met, and Varillo shifted uneasily in his chair.
+
+"The same," he replied curtly.
+
+Again Sylvie laughed.
+
+"Immaculate creature!" she murmured, "The noblest of her sex, of
+course! Men always call the women who pander to their vices 'noble'."
+
+Varillo flushed an angry red.
+
+"You are pleased to be sarcastic, fair lady." he said carelessly, "I do
+not understand--"
+
+"No? You are not usually so dense with me, though to those who do not
+know you as well as I do, you sometimes appear to be the very stupidest
+of men! Now be frank!--tell me, is not Pon-Pon one of the 'noble'
+women?"
+
+"She is a very good creature," averred Varillo gently, and with an air
+that was almost pious,--"She supports her family entirely on her
+earnings."
+
+"How charming of her!" laughed Sylvie, "And so exceptional a thing to
+do, is it not? My dressmaker does the same thing,--she 'supports' her
+family; but respectably! And just think!--if ever your right hand loses
+its cunning as a painter, Angela will be able to 'support' YOU!"
+
+"Always Angela!" muttered Varillo, beginning to sulk, "Cannot you talk
+of something else?"
+
+"No,--not for the moment! She is an interesting subject,--to ME! She
+will arrive in Rome to-morrow night, and her uncle Cardinal Bonpre,
+will be with her, and they will all stay at the Sovrani Palace, which
+seems to me like a bit of the Vatican and an old torture-chamber rolled
+into one! And, talking of this same excellent Cardinal, they have
+almost canonized him at the Vatican,--almost, but not quite."
+
+"For what reason?"
+
+"Oh, have you not heard? It appears he performed a miracle in Rouen,
+curing a child who had been a cripple ever since babyhood, and making
+him run about as well and strong as possible. One prayer did it, so it
+is said,--the news reached the Vatican some days ago; our charming
+Monsignor Gherardi told me of it. The secretary of the Archbishop of
+Rouen brought the news personally to the Holy Father."
+
+"I do not believe it," said Varillo indifferently, "The days of
+miracles are past. And from what I know, and from what Angela has told
+me of her uncle, Cardinal Bonpre, he would never lend himself to such
+nonsense."
+
+"Well, I only tell you what is just now the talk at the Vatican," said
+Sylvie, "Your worthy uncle-in-law that is to be, may be Pope yet! Have
+you heard from Angela?"
+
+"Every day. But she has said nothing about this miracle."
+
+"Perhaps she does not know,"--and Sylvie began to yawn, and stretch her
+white arms above her head lazily, "Oh, DIO MIO! How terribly dull is
+Rome!"
+
+"How long have you been here, Contessa?"
+
+"Nearly a week! If I am not more amused I shall go away home to
+Budapest."
+
+"But how is one to amuse you?" asked Varillo, sitting down beside her
+and endeavouring to take her hand. She drew it quickly from him.
+
+"Not in that way!" she said scornfully, "Is it possible that you can be
+so conceited! A woman says she is dull and bored, and straightway the
+nearest man imagines his uncouth caresses will amuse her! TIENS TIENS!
+When will you understand that all women are not like Pon-Pon?"
+
+Varillo drew back, chafed and sullen. His AMOUR PROPRE was wounded, and
+he began to feel exceedingly cross. The pretty laugh of Sylvie rang out
+like a little peal of bells.
+
+"Suppose Angela knew that you wished to 'amuse' me in that particularly
+unamusing way?" she went on, "You--who, to her, are CHEVALIER SANS PEUR
+ET SANS REPROCHE!"
+
+"Angela is different to all other women," said Varillo quickly, with a
+kind of nervous irritation in his manner as he spoke, "and she has to
+be humoured accordingly. She is extremely fantastic--full of strange
+ideas and unnatural conceptions of life. Her temperament is studious
+and dreamy--self-absorbed too at times--and she is absolutely
+passionless. That is why she will make a model wife."
+
+The Comtesse drew her breath quickly,--her blood began to tingle and
+her heart to beat--but she repressed these feelings and said,
+
+"You mean that her passionless nature will be her safety in all
+temptation?"
+
+"Exactly!" and Varillo, smiling, became good natured again--"For Angela
+to be untrue would be a grotesque impossibility! She has no idea of the
+stronger sentiment of love which strikes the heart like a lightning
+flash and consumes it. Her powers of affection are intellectually and
+evenly balanced,--and she could not be otherwise than faithful because
+her whole nature is opposed to infidelity. But it is not a nature
+which, being tempted, overcomes--inasmuch as there is no temptation
+which is attractive to her!"
+
+"You think so?" and a sparkle of satire danced in Sylvie's bright eyes,
+"Really? And because she is self-respecting and proud, you would almost
+make her out to be sexless?--not a woman at all,--without
+heart?--without passion? Then you do not love her!"
+
+"She is the dearest creature to me in all the world!" declared Florian,
+with emotional ardour, "There is no one at all like her! Even her
+beauty, which comes and goes with her mood, is to an artist's eye like
+mine, exquisite,--and more dazzling to the senses than the stereotyped
+calm of admitted perfection in form and feature. But, CARA CONTESSA, I
+am something of an analyst in character--and I know that the delicacy
+of Angela's charm lies in that extraordinary tranquillity of soul,
+which, (YOU suggested the word!) may indeed be almost termed sexless.
+She is purer than snow--and very much colder."
+
+"You are fortunate to be the only man selected to melt that coldness,"
+said Sylvie with a touch of disdain, "Myself, I think you make a great
+mistake in calling Angela passionless. She is all passion--and
+ardour--but it is kept down,--held firmly within bounds, and devoutly
+consecrated to you. Pardon me, if I say that you should be more
+grateful for the love and trust she gives you. You are not without
+rivals in the field."
+
+Florian Varillo raised his eyebrows smilingly.
+
+"Rivals? VERAMENTE! I am not aware of them!"
+
+"No, I should say you had too good an opinion of yourself to imagine
+any rival possible!" said the Comtesse, "But such a person may exist!"
+
+Varillo yawned, and flicked a grain of dust off his waistcoat with a
+fastidious thumb and finger.
+
+"Impossible! No one could possibly fall in love with Angela now! She is
+an icicle,--no man save myself has the ghost of a chance with her!"
+
+"Of course not," said Sylvie impatiently, "Because she is betrothed to
+you. But if things were not as they are--"
+
+"It would make no difference, I assure you," laughed Varillo gaily,
+"Angela does not like men as a rule. She is fondest of romance--of
+dreams--of visions, out of which come the ideas for her pictures--"
+
+"And she is quite passionless with all this, you think?" said Sylvie,
+"The 'stronger sentiment which strikes the heart like a flash of
+lightning, and consumes it', as you so poetically describe it--could
+never possibly disturb her peace?"
+
+"I think not," replied Varillo, with a meditative air, "Angela and I
+glided into love like two children wandering by chance into a meadow
+full of flowers,--no storm struck us--no sudden danger signal flashed
+from our eyes--no trembling hurry of the blood bade us rush into each
+other's arms and cling!--nothing of this marvel touched us!--we loved
+with all the calm--but without the glory!"
+
+His voice,--the most fascinating quality attached to his
+personality,--rose and fell in this little speech with an exquisite
+cadence, half sad, half sweet,--and Sylvie, impressionable creature as
+she was, with her innate love of romance and poetry, was unconsciously
+moved by it to a faint sigh. There was nothing to sigh for, really,--it
+was just a mere melodious noise of words, in the making of which
+Florian Varillo was an adept. He had not an atom of serious thought in
+his remark, any more than in the dainty verses he was wont to append to
+his pictures--verses which he turned out with the lightest and swiftest
+ease, and which read like his spoken sentences, as if there were a
+meaning in them, when truly there was none. But Sylvie was just then in
+a curious state of mind, and slight things easily impressed her. She
+was in love--and yet she was not in love. The handsome face and figure
+of the Marquis Fontenelle, together with many of his undoubted good and
+even fine qualities, attracted her and held her in thrall, much more
+than the consciousness of his admiration and pursuit of her,--but--and
+this was a very interfering "but" indeed,--she was reluctantly
+compelled to admit to herself that there was no glozing over the fact
+that he was an incorrigibly "fast", otherwise bad man. His life was a
+long record of LIAISONS with women,--an exact counterpart of the life
+of the famous actor Miraudin. And though there is a saying that a
+reformed rake makes the best husband, Sylvie was scarcely sure of being
+willing to try this test,--besides, the Marquis had not offered himself
+in that capacity, but only as a lover. In Paris,--within reach of him,
+surrounded by his gracious and graceful courtesies everywhere, the
+pretty and sensitive Comtesse had sometimes felt her courage oozing out
+at her finger's ends,--and the longing to be loved became so strong and
+overwhelming in her soul that she had felt she must perforce one day
+yield to her persistent admirer's amorous solicitations, come what
+would of it in the end. Her safety had been in flight; and here in
+Rome, she had found herself, like a long-tossed little ship, suddenly
+brought up to firm anchorage. The vast peace and melancholy grandeur of
+the slowly dying "Mother of Nations", enveloped her as with a
+sheltering cloak from the tempest of her own heart and senses, and
+being of an exquisitely refined and dainty nature in herself, she had,
+while employing her time in beautifying, furnishing and arranging her
+apartments in the casa D'Angeli, righted her mind, so to speak, and
+cleared it from the mists of illusion which had begun to envelop it, so
+that she could now think of Fontenelle quietly and with something of a
+tender compassion,--she could pray for him and wish him all things
+good,--but she could not be quite sure that she loved him. And this was
+well. For we should all be very sure indeed that we do love, before we
+crucify ourselves to the cross of sacrifice. Inasmuch as if the love in
+us be truly Love, we shall not feel the nails, we shall be unconscious
+of the blood that flows, and the thorns that prick and sting,--we shall
+but see the great light of Resurrection springing glorious out of
+death! But if we only THINK we love,--when our feeling is the mere
+attraction of the senses and the lighter impulses--then our crucifixion
+is in vain, and our death is death indeed. Some such thoughts as these
+had given Sylvie a new charm of manner since her arrival in Rome--she
+was less mirthful, but more sympathetic--less RIANTE, but infinitely
+prettier and more fascinating. Florian Varillo studied her
+appreciatively in this regard after he had uttered his little
+meaningless melody of sentiment, and thought within himself--"A week or
+two and I could completely conquer that woman!" He was mistaken--men
+who think these sort of things often are. But the thought satisfied
+him, and gave bold lustre to his eyes and brightness to his smile when
+he rose to take his leave. He had been one of the guests at a small and
+early dinner-party given by the Comtesse that evening,--and with the
+privilege of an old acquaintance, he had lingered thus long after all
+the others had gone to their respective homes.
+
+"I will bid you now the felicissima notte, cara e bella contessa!" he
+said caressingly, raising her small white hand to his lips, and kissing
+it with a lingering pressure of what he considered a peculiarly
+becoming moustache--"When Angela arrives to-morrow night I shall be
+often at the Palazzo Sovrani--shall I see you there?"
+
+"Of course you will see me there," replied Sylvie, a little
+impatiently, "Am I not one of Angela's closest friends?"
+
+"True! And for the sake of la mia dolcezza, you will also be a friend
+to me?"
+
+"'la mia dolcezza'", repeated Sylvie, "Is that what you call her?"
+
+"Yes--but I fear it is not original!" said Varillo smiling, "One
+Ariosto called his lady thus."
+
+"Yes?" and Sylvie's eyes darkened and grew humid with a sudden
+tenderness of thought, "It is a pretty phrase!"
+
+"It should be used to YOU always, by every man who has my present
+privilege!" said Varillo, gallantly, kissing her hand once more, "You
+will be my friend?"
+
+Sylvie disengaged her hand from his.
+
+"You must not depend upon me, Signor," she said with sudden coldness,
+"To be perfectly frank with you I am not sure that I like you. You are
+very charming and very clever--but I doubt your sincerity."
+
+"Ah, che sono infelice!" murmured varillo softly, "you are right,
+bellissima madama! I am not myself with many people--but with you--you
+are one of the few who understand me . . . I am the very soul of
+candour!"
+
+He fixed his eyes full upon her with an open and straight regard,
+adding, "Can you doubt me?" in a touching tone of wounded feeling.
+
+The Comtesse laughed, and her face flushed.
+
+"Well, I do not know!" she said, with a light gesture of her hands as
+though she threw something unpleasant away from her, "I shall fudge of
+you by the happiness--or sorrow--of Angela!"
+
+A slight frown contracted his brows--but it passed quickly, and the
+candid smile illumined his mobile face once more.
+
+"Ebben! Buona notte, bela capricciosa!" and bowing low he turned
+towards the door, "Thank you a thousand times for a very happy evening!
+Even when you are unkind to me you are still charming! Addio!"
+
+She murmured an "addio" in response, and when he had gone, and the echo
+of his footfall down the great marble stairs had completely died away,
+she went out once more to the balcony and leaned among the sculptured
+angels, a dainty, slender, white figure, with her soft flower-like face
+turned up to the solemn sky, where the large moon marched like an
+Amazon through space, attended by her legions and battalions of stars.
+So slight, so fragile and sweet a woman!--with a precious world of love
+pent up in her heart . . . yet alone--quite alone on this night of
+splendid luminousness and majestic suggestions of infinity,--an
+infinity so monstrous and solitary to the one delicate creature, whose
+whole soul craved for a perfect love. Alas, for this "perfect love," of
+which all the dearest women dream! Where shall they find it?--and how
+shall they win it? Too often it comes when they may not have it; the
+cup of nectar is offered to lips that are forbidden to drink of it,
+because the world's convention stands between and turns the honey to
+gall. One of the many vague problems of a future life, offered for our
+consideration, is the one concerning the righteous satisfaction of
+love. Will not those who have been bound fast as prisoners in the bonds
+of matrimony without love, find those whose spirits are naturally one
+with theirs, but whom they have somehow missed in this life? For
+Byron's fine lines are eternally true,--
+
+ "Few--none--find what they love or could have loved,--
+ Though accident, blind contact, and the strong
+ Necessity of loving, have removed
+ Antipathies--but to recur ere long
+ Envenom'd with irrevocable wrong."
+
+And the "blind contact" is the worst of all influences brought to bear
+upon the mind and heart,--the most pernicious, and the most deeply
+weighted with responsibility. In this regard, Sylvie Hermenstein had
+acted wisely by removing herself from association, or "blind contact"
+with her would-be lover,--and yet, though she was aware that her doing
+so had caused a certain dispersal of the atmosphere which almost veered
+towards complete disillusion, she found nevertheless, that Rome as she
+had said, was "dull"; her heart was empty, and longing for she knew not
+what. And that deep longing she felt could not have been completely
+gratified by the brief ardours of Fontenelle. And so she sat thinking
+wearily,--wondering what was to become of her life. She had riches in
+plenty, a fine estate and castle in Hungary,--servants at her beck and
+call--and yet with all her wealth and beauty and brilliancy, she felt
+that she was only loved by two persons in the world, her old butler,
+and Madame Bozier, who had been her first governess, and who now lived
+with her, as a sort of dame d'honneur surrounded with every comfort and
+luxury, and who certainly served her former pupil with a faithful
+worship that would not have changed, even if the direst poverty instead
+of riches had been the portion of her beloved patroness. This elderly
+lady it was who entered now with a soft and hesitating step, and
+raising her glasses to her eyes, peered anxiously through the lighted
+room towards the dark balcony where Sylvie stood, like a fairy fallen
+out of the moon, and who presently ventured to advance and call softly,
+
+"Sylvie!"
+
+The pretty Comtesse turned and smiled.
+
+"Is it you, Katrine? Will you come out here? It is not cold, and there
+is a lace wrap on the chair,--put it round your dear old head and come
+and be romantic with me!" and she laughed as the worthy Bozier obeyed
+her, and came cautiously out among the angels' sculptured wings. "Ah,
+dear Katrine! The happy days are gone when a dark-eyed Roman lover
+would come strolling down a street like this to strike the chords of
+his mandoline, and sing the dear old song,
+
+ "'Ti voglio bene assai, E tu non pensi a me!'"
+
+Without thinking about it, she sang this refrain suddenly in her sweet
+mezzo-soprano, every note ringing clear on the silence of the night,
+and as she did so a man of slim figure and medium height, stepped out
+of the dark shadows and looked up. His half laughing eyes, piercing in
+their regard, met the dreamy soft ones of the pretty woman sitting
+among the angels' heads above him--and pausing a moment he
+hesitated--then lifted his hat. His face was excessively delicate in
+outline and very pale, but a half mischievous smile softened and
+sweetened the firm lines of his mouth and chin, and as the moonbeams
+played caressingly on his close curling crop of fair hair, he looked
+different enough to most of the men in Rome to be considered singular
+as well as handsome. Sylvie, hidden as she was among the shadows,
+blushed and drew back, a little vexed with herself,--the worthy Madame
+Bozier was very properly scandalised.
+
+"My dear child!" she murmured, "Remember--we are in Rome. People judge
+things so strangely! What an unfortunate error!--"
+
+But Sylvie became suddenly unmanageable. Her love of coquetry and
+mischief got the better of her, and she thrust out her pretty head over
+the balcony once more.
+
+"Be quiet, Katrine!" she whispered, "I was longing for a romance, and
+here is one!" And detaching a rose from her dress she tossed it lightly
+to the stranger below. He caught it--then looked up once more.
+
+"Till we meet," he said softly in English,--and moving on among the
+shadows, disappeared.
+
+"Now, who do you suppose HE was?" enquired Sylvie, leaning back against
+the edge of the balcony, with an arch glance at her gouvernante, "It
+was someone unlike anyone else here, I am sure! It was somebody with
+very bright eyes,--laughing eyes,--audacious eyes, because they laughed
+at me! They sparkled at me like stars on a frosty night! Katrine, have
+you ever been for a sleigh-ride in America? No, I did not take you
+there,--I forgot! You would have had the rheumatism, poor dear! Well,
+when you are in America during the winter, you go for rides over the
+snow in a big sleigh, with tinkling bells fastened to the horses, and
+you see the stars flash as you pass--like the eyes of that interesting
+gentleman just now. His face was like a cameo--I wonder who he is! I
+shall find out! I must do something desperate for Rome is so terribly
+dull! But I feel better now! I like that man's eyes. They are SUCH a
+contrast to the sleepy tiger eyes of the Marquis Fontenelle!"
+
+"My dear Sylvie!" remonstrated Madame Bozier, "How can you run on in
+this way? Do you want to break any more hearts? You are like a lamp for
+unfortunate moths to burn themselves in!"
+
+"Oh no, not I," said Sylvie, shaking her head with a touch of half
+melancholy scorn, "I am not a 'professional' beauty! The Prince of
+Wales does not select me for his admiration,--hence it follows that I
+cannot possibly be an attraction in Europe. I have not the large frame,
+the large hands, and the still larger feet of the beautiful English
+ladies, who rule royal hearts and millionaires' pockets! Men scarcely
+notice me till they come to know me--and then, pouf!--away go their
+brains!--and they grovel at my small feet instead of the large ones of
+the English ladies!" She laughed. "Now how is that, Katrine?"
+
+"C'est du charme--toujurs du charme!" murmured Madame Bozier, studying
+with a wistful affection the dainty lines of Sylvie's slight figure,
+"And that is an even more fatal gift than beauty, chere petite!"
+
+"Du charme! You think that is it? Yes?--and so the men grow stupid and
+wild!--some want me, and some want my fortune--and some do not know
+what they want!--but one thing is certain, that they all quarrel
+together about me, and bore me to extinction!--Even the stranger with
+the bright stars of an American winter for eyes, might possibly bore me
+if I knew him!"
+
+She gave a short sigh of complete dissatisfaction.
+
+"To be loved, Katrine--really loved! What a delicious thing that would
+be! Have you ever felt it?"
+
+The poor lady trembled a little, and gave a somewhat mournful smile.
+
+"No, you dear romantic child! I cannot say with truth that I have! I
+married when I was very young, and my husband was many years older than
+myself. He was afflicted with chronic rheumatism and gout, and to be
+quite honest, I could never flatter myself that he thought of me more
+than the gout. There! I knew that would amuse you!"--this, as Sylvie's
+pretty tender laugh rippled out again on the air, "And though it sounds
+as if it were a jest, it is perfectly true. Poor Monsieur Bozier! He
+was the drawing master at the school where I was assistant
+governess,--and he was very lonely; he wanted someone to attend to him
+when the gouty paroxysms came on, and he thought I should do as well,
+perhaps better than anyone else. And I--I had no time to think about
+myself at all, or to fall in love--I was very glad to be free of the
+school, and to have a home of my own. So I married him, and did my best
+to be a good nurse to him,--but he did not live long, poor man--you see
+he always would eat things that did not agree with him, and if he could
+not get them at home he went out and bought them on the sly. There was
+no romance there, my dear! And of course he died. And he left me
+nothing at all,--even our little home was sold up to pay our debts.
+Then I had to work again for my living,--and it was by answering an
+advertisement in the Times, which applied for an English governess to
+go to a family in Budapest, that I first came to know you."
+
+"And that is all your history!" said Sylvie, "Poor dear Bozier! How
+uneventful!"
+
+"Yes, it is," and the worthy lady sighed also, but hers, was a sigh of
+placid arid philosophical comfort. "Still, my dear, I am not at all
+sorry to be uninteresting! I have rather a terror of lives that arrange
+themselves into grand dramas, with terrible love affairs as the central
+motives."
+
+"Have you? I have not!" said Sylvie thoughtfully,--"With all my heart I
+admire a 'grande passion.' Sometimes I think it is the only thing that
+makes history. One does not hear nearly so much of the feuds in which
+Dante was concerned, as of his love for Beatrice. It is always so, only
+few people are capable of the strength and patience and devotion needed
+for this great consummation of life. Now I--"
+
+Madame Bozier smiled, and with tender fingers arranged one of the stray
+knots of pearls with which Sylvie's white gown was adorned.
+
+"You dear child! You were made for sweetness and caresses,--not
+suffering . . ."
+
+"You mistake!" said Sylvie, with sudden decision, "You, in your
+fondness for me, and because you have seen me grow up from childhood,
+sometimes still view me as a child, and think that I am best amused
+with frivolities, and have not the soul in me that would endure
+disaster. But for love's sake I would do anything--yes!
+ . . . anything!"
+
+"My child!"
+
+"Yes," repeated Sylvie, her eyes darkening and lightening quickly in
+their own fascinating way, "I would consent to shock the stupid old
+world!--though one can scarcely ever shock it nowadays, because it has
+itself become so shocking! But then the man for whom I would sacrifice
+myself, must love ME as ardently as I would love HIM! That is the
+difficulty, Katrine. For men do not love--they only desire."
+
+She raised her face to the sky, and the moonbeams shed a golden halo
+round her.
+
+"That," she said slowly, "is the reason why I have come here to avoid
+the Marquis Fontenelle. He does not love me!"
+
+"He is a villain!" said Madame Bozier with asperity.
+
+"Helas! There are so many villains!" sighed Sylvie, still looking up at
+the brilliant heavens, "And sometimes if a villain really loves anybody
+he half redeems his villainy. But the Marquis loves himself best of
+anyone in the world . . . and I--I do not intend to be second in
+anyone's affections! So . . ." she paused, "Do you see that star,
+Katrine? It is as bright as if it were shining on a frosty night in
+America. And do you not notice the resemblance to the eyes of the
+stranger who has my rose? I daresay he will put it under his pillow
+to-night, and dream!" She laughed,--"Let us go in!"
+
+Madame Bozier followed her as she stepped back into the lighted salon,
+where she was suddenly met by her little Arab page, carrying a large
+cluster of exquisite red and white roses. A card was attached to the
+flowers, bearing the words, "These many unworthy blossoms in return for
+one beyond all worth."
+
+The Comtesse read and passed it in silence to Madame Bozier. A smile
+was on her face, and a light in her eyes.
+
+"I think Rome is not so dull after all!" she said, as she set the
+flowers carefully in a tall vase of Etruscan ware, "Do you know, I am
+beginning to find it interesting!"
+
+
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+Aubrey Leigh was a man who had chosen his own way of life, and, as a
+natural consequence of this, had made for himself an independent and
+original career. Born in the New World of America he had been very
+highly educated,--not only under the care of a strict father, and an
+idolising mother, but also with all the advantages one of the finest
+colleges in the States could give him. Always a brilliant scholar, and
+attaining his successes by leaps and bounds rather than by close and
+painstaking study, the day came,--as it comes to all finely-tempered
+spirits,--when an overpowering weariness or body and soul took
+possession of him,--when the very attainment of knowledge seemed
+absurd,--and all things, both in nature and art, took on a sombre
+colouring, and the majestic pageant of the world's progress appeared no
+more than a shadow too vain and futile to be worth while watching as it
+passed. Into a Slough of Despond, such as Solomon experienced when he
+wrote his famous "Ecclesiastes," Aubrey sank unconsciously, and,--to do
+him justice,--most unwillingly. His was naturally a bright, vivacious,
+healthy nature--but he was over-sensitively organised,--his nerves did
+not resemble iron so much as finely-tempered steel, which could not but
+suffer from the damp and rust in the world's conventionalities. And
+some "little rift within the lute" chanced to him, as it often chances
+to many, so that the subtle music of his soul jarred into discord with
+the things of life, making harsh sounds in place of melody. There was
+no adequate cause for this,--neither disappointed love nor balked
+ambition shadowed his days;--it was something altogether indefinable--a
+delicate, vague discontent which, had he known it, was merely the first
+stirring of an embryo genius destined one day to move the world. He did
+not know what ailed him,--but he grew tired--tired of books--tired of
+music--tired of sifting the perplexing yet enchanting riddles of
+science--tired of even his home and his mother's anxious eyes of love
+that watched his moods too closely for his peace,--and one day, out of
+the merest boyish impulse, he joined a company of travelling actors and
+left America. Why he did this he could never tell, save that he was a
+student and lover of Shakespeare. Much to his own surprise, and
+somewhat to his disgust, he distinguished himself with exceptional
+brilliancy on the stage,--his voice, his manner, his physique and his
+bearing were all exceptional, and told highly in his favour,--but
+unfortunately his scholarly acumen and knowledge of literature went
+against him with his manager. This personage, who was densely ignorant,
+and who yet had all the ineffable conceit of ignorance, took him
+severely to task for knowing Shakespeare's meanings better than he
+did,--and high words resulted in mutual severance. Aubrey was hardly
+sorry when his theatrical career came thus untimely to an end. At first
+he had imagined it possible to become supreme in histrionic art,--one
+who should sway the emotions of thousands by a word, a look or a
+gesture,--he had meant to be the greatest Shakespearean actor of his
+day; and with his knowledge of French, which was as perfect as his
+knowledge of English, he had even foreseen the possibility of taking
+the French stage as well as the English by storm. But when he gradually
+came to discover the mean tricks and miserable treacheries used by his
+fellow-actors to keep a rising comrade down,--when he felt to the core
+of his soul the sordidness and uncleanness of his surroundings,--when
+he shudderingly repulsed the would-be attentions of the painted drabs
+called "ladies of the stage",--and above all, when he thought of the
+peace and refinement of the home he had, for a mere freak,
+forsaken,--the high tone of thought and feeling maintained there, the
+exquisite gracefulness and charm of womanhood, of which his mother had
+been, and was still a perfect embodiment, some new and far stronger
+spirit rose up within him, crying--"What is this folly? Am I to sink to
+the level of those whom I know and see are beneath me? With what I have
+of brain and heart and feeling, are these unworthy souls to drag me
+down? Shall I not try to feel my wings, and make one bold dash for
+higher liberty? And if I do so, whither shall I fly?"
+
+He had come to England at this period,--and in the small provincial
+town where his final rupture with the illiterate theatrical manager had
+taken place, there was a curious, silent contest going on between the
+inhabitants and their vicar. The vicar was an extremely unpopular
+person,--and the people were striving against him, and fighting him at
+every possible point of discussion. For so small a community the
+struggle was grim,--and Aubrey for some time could not understand it,
+till one day an explanation was offered him by a man engaged in
+stitching leather, in a dirty evil-smelling little hole of a shop under
+a dark archway.
+
+"You see, sir, it's this way," he said, "Bessie Morton,--she wor as
+good a girl as ever stepped--bright and buxom and kind hearted--yes,
+that was Bessie, till some black scoundrel got her love at a soft
+moment, and took the better of her. Well!--I suppose some good
+Christian folk would say she wor a bad 'un--but I'll warrant she worn't
+bad at heart, but only just soft-like--and she an orphan, with no one
+to look after her, or say she done ill or well. And there was a little
+child born--the prettiest little creature ye ever saw--Bessie's own
+copy--all blue eyes and chestnut hair--and it just lived a matter of
+fower year, and then it took sick and died. Bessie went nigh raving
+mad; that she did. And now, what do you think, sir? The passon refused
+to bury that there little child in consecrated ground, cos'twas born
+out of wedlock! What d'ye think of that for a follower of Jesus with
+the loving heart? What d'ye think of that?"
+
+"Think!" said Aubrey indignantly, with an involuntary clenching of his
+hand, "Why, that it is abominable--disgraceful! I should like to thrash
+the brute!"
+
+"So would a many," said his informant with an approving chuckle, "So
+would a many! But that's not all--there's more behind--and worse too--"
+
+"Why, what can be worse?"
+
+"Well, sir, we thinks--we ain't got proofs to go on--for Bessie keeps
+her own counsel--but we thinks the passon hisself is the father of that
+there little thing he winnot lay in a holy grave!"
+
+"Good God!" cried Aubrey.
+
+"Ay, ay--you may say 'Good God!' with a meaning, sir," said the
+leather-seller--"And that's why, as we ain't got no facts and no power
+with bishops, and we ain't able to get at the passon anyhow, we're just
+making it as unpleasant for him in our way as we can. That's all the
+people can do, sir, but what they does, they means!"
+
+This incident deeply impressed Aubrey Leigh, and proved to be the
+turning point in his career. Like a flash of light illumining some
+divinely written scroll of duty, he suddenly perceived a way in which
+to shape his own life and make it of assistance to others. He began his
+plan of campaign by going about among the poorer classes, working as
+they worked, living as they lived, and enduring what they endured.
+Disguised as a tramp, he wandered with tramps. He became for a time one
+of the "hands" in a huge Birmingham factory. After that he worked for
+several months at the coal pits among the lowest of the men employed
+there. Then he got a "job" in a dock-yard and studied the ways of
+shipping and humanity together. During this time of self-imposed
+probation, he never failed to write letters home to Canada, saying he
+was "doing well" in England, but how this "doing well" was brought
+about he never explained. And the actual motive and end of all his
+experiences was as yet a secret locked within his own heart. Yet when
+it was put into words it sounded simple enough,--it was merely to find
+out how much or how little the clergy, or so-called "servants of
+Christ", obeyed their Master. Did they comfort the comfortless? Were
+they "wise as serpents, and harmless as doves"? Were they
+long-suffering, slow to wrath, and forbearing one to the other? Did
+they truly "feed the sheep"? Did they sacrifice themselves, their
+feelings, and their ambitions to rescue what was lost? All these and
+sundry other questions Aubrey Leigh set himself to answer,--and by and
+by he found himself on an endless path of discovery, where at every
+step some new truth confronted him;--some amazing hypocrisy burned
+itself in letters of flame against the splendour of church
+altars;--some deed of darkness and bigotry and cruelty smirched the
+white robes of the "ordained to preach the Gospel". Gradually he became
+so intently and vitally interested in his investigations, and his
+sympathy for the uncomforted people who had somehow lost Christ instead
+of finding Him, grew so keen that he resolved to give up his entire
+life to the work of beginning to try and remedy the evil. He had no
+independent means,--he lived from hand to mouth earning just what he
+could by hard labour,--till one day, when the forces in his own soul
+said "Ready!" he betook himself to one small room which he hired in a
+fisherman's cottage on the coast of Cornwall, and there sat down to
+write a book. Half the day he wrote, and half the day he earned his
+bread as a common fisherman, going out with the others in storm and
+shine, sailing through sleet and hail and snow, battling with the
+waves, and playing with Death at every turn of the rocks, which, like
+the teeth of great monsters, jagged the stormy shore. And he grew
+strong, and lithe, and muscular--his outward life of hard and changeful
+labour, accompanied by the inward life of intelligent and creative
+thought, gradually worked off all depression of soul and effeminacy of
+body,--his experience of the stage passed away, leaving no trace on his
+mind but the art, the colour and the method,--particularly the method
+of speech. With art, colour, and method he used the pen;--with the same
+art, colour, and method he used his voice, and practised the powers of
+oratory. He would walk for miles to any lonely place where he could be
+sure of no interruption,--and there he would speak aloud to the roaring
+waves and wide stretches of desolate land, and tell them the trenchant
+things he meant one day to thunder into human ears. Always of a fine
+figure, his bearing grew more dauntless and graceful,--the dangers of
+the sea taught him self-control,--the swift changes of the sky gave him
+the far-off rapt expression and keen flash of his eyes,--the pitiful
+sorrows of the poor, in which, as he had elected to be one of them, he
+was bound to share, had deepened the sympathetic lines round his
+delicate mouth, and had bestowed upon his whole countenance that look
+which is seldom seen save in the classic marbles--the look of being one
+with, and yet above mankind. All the different classes of people with
+whom he had managed to associate had called him "gentleman", a name he
+had gently but firmly repudiated. "Call me a Man, and let me deserve
+the title!" he would say smilingly, and his "mates" hearing this would
+eye each other askance, and whisper among themselves "that he WAS a
+gentleman for all that, though no doubt he had come down in the world
+and had to work for his living. And no shame to him as he gave himself
+no airs, and could turn a hand to anything." And so the time moved on,
+and he remained in the Cornish fishing village till his book was
+finished. Then he suddenly went up to London;--and after a few days'
+absence came back again, and went contentedly on with the fishing once
+more.
+
+A month or so later, one night when the blackness of the skies was so
+dense that it could almost be felt, it chanced that he and his
+companions were far out at sea in their little smack, which lay
+becalmed between two darknesses--the darkness of the rolling water, and
+the darkness of the still heaven. Little waves lapped heavily against
+the boat's side, and the only glimpse of light at all was the yellow
+flicker of the lamp that hung from the mast of the vessel, casting a
+tremulous flicker on the sombrous tide, when all at once a great noise
+like the crash of thunder, or the roll of cannon, echoed through the
+air, and a meteor more brilliant than an imperial crown of diamonds,
+flared through the sky from height to depth, and with a blazing
+coruscation of flying stars and flame, dropped hissingly down into the
+sea. The fishermen startled, all looked up--the heavy black nets
+dropped from their brown arms just as they were about to pull in.
+
+"A sign of strife!" said one.
+
+"Ay, ay! We shall hev a war maybe!"
+
+Aubrey leaned far over the boat's side, and looked out into the dense
+blackness, made blacker than ever by the sudden coming and going of the
+flaming sky-phenomenon,--and half unconsciously he murmured, "Think not
+that I am come to send peace on earth,--I come not to send peace, but a
+sword!" And he lost himself in dreams of the past, present, and
+future,--till he was roused to give a hand in the dragging up of the
+nets, now full of glistening fish with silvery bodies and ruby
+eyes,--and then his thoughts took a different turn and wandered off as
+far back as the Sea of Galilee when the disciples, fishing thus, were
+called by the Divine Voice, saying "Follow me, and I will make you
+fishers of men!" And in silence he helped to row the laden boat
+homewards, for there was no wind to fill the sail,--and the morning
+gradually broke like a great rose blooming out of the east, and the sun
+came peering through the rose like the calyx of the flower,--and still
+in a dream, Aubrey walked through all that splendour of the early day
+home to his lodging,--there to find himself,--like Byron,--famous. His
+book was in everyone's hand--his name on everyone's tongue. Letters
+from the publisher whom his visit to London had made his friend,
+accompanied by a bundle of the chief newspapers of the day, informed
+him that he had in one bound taken his place at the very head and front
+of opinion,--and, finest proof of power, the critics were out like the
+hounds in full cry, and were already baying the noble quarry. The
+Church papers were up in arms--indignant articles were being added to
+the "weeklies" by highly respectable clergymen with a large feminine
+"following", and in the midst of all these written things, which in
+their silent print seemed literally to make a loud clamour in the quiet
+of his room, Aubrey, in his sea-stained fisherman's garb, with the
+sparkle of the salt spray still glittering on his closely curling
+bright hair, looked out at the clear horizon from which the sun had
+risen up in all its majesty, and devoutly thanked God!
+
+"I have written part of my message," he said to himself, "And now
+by-and-by I shall speak!"
+
+But he lived on yet for a time in the remote fishing village,
+waiting,--without knowing quite what he waited for,--while the great
+Gargantuan mouth of London roared his name in every imaginable key,
+high and low, and gradually swept it across the seas to America and
+Australia, and all the vast New World that is so swiftly rising up,
+with the eternal balance of things, to overwhelm the Old. And presently
+the rumour of his fame reached those whom he had left behind in the
+quiet little town of his birth and boyhood,--and his mother, reading
+the frantic eulogies, and still more frantic attacks of the different
+sections of press opinion, wept with excitement and tenderness and
+yearning; and his father, startled at the strange power and authority
+with which this new Apostle of Truth appeared to be invested, trembled
+as he read, but nevertheless held himself more erect with a pride in
+his own old age that he had never felt before, as he said a hundred
+times a day in response to eager questioners--"Yes,--Aubrey Leigh is my
+son!" Then mother and father both wrote to Aubrey, and poured out their
+affectionate hearts to him and blessed him, which blessing he received
+with that strange heaving of the heart and contraction of the throat,
+which in a strong man means tears. And still he waited on, earning his
+bread in the humble village which knew nothing of him, save as one of
+themselves,--for the inhabitants of the place were deaf and blind to
+the ways of the world, and read little save old and belated newspapers,
+so that they were ignorant of his newly celebrated personality,--till
+one day the Fates gave him that chance for which, though he was
+unconscious of it, he had been holding himself back, and counting the
+slow strokes of time;--time which seems to beat with such a laggard
+pulse when one sees some great thing needing to be done, and while
+feeling all the force to do it, yet has to control and keep back that
+force till the appointed hour strikes for action.
+
+There had been a terrific storm at sea, and a herring smack had gone
+down within sight of land, sinking eight strong men with it, all
+husbands and fathers. One after the other, the eight bodies were thrown
+back from the surging deep in the sullen grey morning on the day after
+the catastrophe,--one after the other they were borne reverently up
+from the shore to the village, there to be claimed by shrieking women
+and sobbing children,--women, who from more or less contented,
+simple-hearted, hard-working souls, were transformed into the grandly
+infuriated forms of Greek tragedy--their arms tossing, their hair
+streaming, their faces haggard with pain, and their eyes blind with
+tears. Throughout the heart-rending scene, Aubrey Leigh worked silently
+with the rest--composing the stiff limbs of the dead, and reverently
+closing the glared and staring eyes; gently he had lifted fainting
+women from the corpses to which they clung,--tenderly he had carried
+crying children home to their beds,--and with sorrowful eyes fixed on
+the still heaving and angry billows, he had inwardly prayed for ways
+and means to comfort these afflicted ones, and raised their thoughts
+from the gloom of the grave to some higher consummation of life. For
+they were inconsolable,--they could neither see nor understand any
+adequate cause for such grief being inflicted on them,--and the entire
+little population of the village wore a resentful attitude towards God,
+and God's inexorable law of death. When the funeral day came, and the
+bodies of the eight unfortunate victims were committed to the earth, it
+happened, as fate would have it, that the rector of the parish, a
+kindly, sympathetic, very simple old man, who really did his best for
+his parishoners according to the faint perception of holy things that
+indistinctly illumined his brain, happened to be away, and his place
+was taken by the assistant curate, a man of irritable and hasty temper,
+who had a horror of "scenes," and who always put away all suggestions
+of death from him whenever it was possible. It was very disagreeable to
+him to have to look at eight coffins,--and still more disagreeable to
+see eight weeping widows surrounded by forlorn and fatherless
+children--and he gabbled over the funeral service as quickly as he
+could, keeping his eyes well on the book lest he should see some
+sobbing child looking at him, or some woman dropping in a dead faint
+before he had time to finish. He was afraid of unpleasant
+incidents--and yet with all his brusque and nervous hurry to avoid
+anything of the kind, an unpleasant incident insisted on manifesting
+itself. Just as the fourth coffin was being lowered into the ground, a
+wild-haired girl rushed forward and threw herself upon it.
+
+"Oh, my man, my man!" she wailed, "My own sweetheart!"
+
+There was a moment's silence. Then one of the widows stepped out, and
+approaching the girl, laid her hand on her arm.
+
+"Are ye making a mock of me, Mary Bell?" she said, "Or is it God's
+truth ye're speaking to my husband lying there?"
+
+The distraught creature called Mary Bell looked up with a sudden
+passion glowing in her tear-wet eyes.
+
+"It's God's truth!" she cried, "And ye needn't look scorn on me!--for
+both our hearts are broken, and no one can ever mend them. Yes! It's
+God's truth! He was your husband, but my sweetheart! And we'll neither
+of us see a finer man again!"
+
+The curate listened, amazed and aghast. Was nothing going to be done to
+stop this scandalous scene? He looked protestingly from right to left,
+but in all the group of fisher-folk not a man moved. Were these two
+women going to fight over the dead? He hummed and hawed--and began in a
+thin piercing voice--"My friends--" when he was again interrupted by
+the passionate speech of Mary Bell.
+
+"I'm sorry for ye," she said, lifting herself from the coffin to which
+she clung, and turning upon the widow of the drowned man, "and ye can
+be just as sorry for me! He loved us both, and why should we quarrel! A
+man is ever like that--just chancy and changeful--but he tried his
+honest hardest not to love me--yes, he tried hard!--it was my fault!
+for I never tried!--I loved him!--and I'll love him, till I go where he
+is gone! And we'll see who God'll give his soul to!"
+
+This was too much for the curate.
+
+"Woman!" he thundered, "Be silent! How dare you boast of your sin at
+such a time, and in such a place! Take her away from that coffin, some
+of you!"
+
+So he commanded, but still not a man moved. The curate began to lose
+temper in earnest.
+
+"Take her away, I tell you," and he advanced a step or two, "I cannot
+permit such a scandalous interruption of this service!"
+
+"Patience, patience, measter," said one of the men standing by, "When a
+woman's heart's broke in two ways it ain't no use worrying her. She'll
+come right of herself in a minute."
+
+But the curate, never famous for forbearance at any time, was not to be
+tampered with. Turning to his verger he said,
+
+"I refuse to go on! The woman is drunk!"
+
+But now the widow of the dead man suddenly took up the argument in a
+shrill voice which almost tore the air to shreds.
+
+"She's no more drunk than you are!" she cried passionately, "Leave her
+alone! You're a nice sort of God's serving man to comfort we, when
+we're all nigh on losing our wits over this mornin' o' misery, shame on
+ye! Mary Bell, come here! If so be as my husband was your sweetheart,
+God forgive him, ye shall come home wi' me!--and we'll never have a
+word agin the man who is lying dead there. Come wi' me, Mary!"
+
+With a wild cry of anguish, the girl rushed into her arms, and the two
+women clung together like sisters united in the same passionate grief.
+The curate turned a livid white.
+
+"I cannot countenance such immorality," he said, addressing the verger,
+though his words were heard by all present, "Enough of the service has
+been said! Lower the coffins into the earth!" and turning on his heel
+he prepared to walk away. But Aubrey Leigh stopped him.
+
+"You will not finish the service, sir?" he asked civilly, but with
+something of a warning in the flash of his eyes.
+
+"No! The principal part of it is over. I cannot go on. These women are
+drunk!"
+
+"They are not drunk, save with their own tears!" said Aubrey, his rich
+voice trembling with indignation. "They are not mad, except with grief!
+Is it not your place to be patient with them?"
+
+"My place! My place!" echoed the curate indignantly, "Man, do you know
+to whom you are talking?"
+
+"I think I do," answered Aubrey steadily, "I am talking to a professed
+servant of Christ,--Christ who had patience and pardon for all men! I
+am talking to one whose calling and vocation it is to love, to forgive,
+and to forbear--whose absolute protestation has been made at the altar
+of God that he will faithfully obey his Master. Even if these unhappy
+women were drunk, which they are not, their fault in conduct would not
+release you from the performance of your duty,--or the reverence you
+are bound to show towards the dead!"
+
+Trembling with rage, the curate eyed him up and down scornfully.
+
+"How dare you speak to me about my duty! You common lout! Mind your own
+business!"
+
+"I will," said Aubrey, fixing his eyes full upon him, "And it shall be
+my business to see that you mind yours! Both your rector and bishop
+shall hear of this!"
+
+He strode off, leaving the curate speechless with fury; and joining the
+little crowd of mourners who had been startled and interrupted by this
+unexpected scene, drew a prayer book from his pocket, and without
+asking anyone's permission read with exquisite gravity and pathos the
+concluding words of the funeral service,--and then with his own hands
+assisted the grave-diggers to lay the coffined dead tenderly to rest.
+Awestruck, and deeply impressed by his manner the fisher-folk
+mechanically obeyed his instructions, and followed his movements till
+all the sad business was over, and then they lingered about the
+churchyard wistfully watching him, while he in turn, standing erect and
+bare-headed near the open graves, looked at them with a strange pity,
+love and yearning.
+
+"It'll be all right when our owld passon comes back," said one of the
+men addressing him, "It's just this half eddicated wastrel of a chap as
+doesn't know, and doesn't care for the troubles of common folk like we."
+
+Aubrey was silent for a space. "Common folk like we!" The words were
+full of pathetic humility, and the man who spoke them was a hero of no
+mean type, who had often buffeted the winds and waves to save a human
+life at the risk of his own. "Common folk like we!" Aubrey laid his
+hand gently on his "mate's" shoulder.
+
+"Ben, old boy, there are no common folk in God's sight," he said, "Look
+there!" and he pointed to the graves that were just beginning to be
+filled in, "Every creature lying there had as much of God in him as
+many a king, and perhaps more. In this majestic universe there is
+nothing common!"
+
+Ben shuffled one foot before the other uneasily.
+
+"Ay, ay, but there's few as argify the way o' life in they lines!" he
+said, "There's a many that think--but there's a main few that speak."
+
+"That is true," said Aubrey, still keeping his hand on Ben's shoulder,
+"there's a main few that speak! Now, _I_ want to speak, Ben,--I want to
+have a talk to you and the rest of our mates about--well!--about the
+dangers of the sea and other things. Will you meet me on the shore this
+evening near the quay and listen to a word or two?"
+
+Ben looked surprised but interested, and a puzzled smile came into his
+eyes.
+
+"Be ye a goin' to preach to us like the passon?" he said, "Or like the
+fellers in the porter's caps as calls themselves Salvationists?"
+
+Aubrey smiled.
+
+"No! I only want to say a few parting words to you all."
+
+"Parting words!" echoed Ben with a stupefied air.
+
+"Yes--I am going away to-morrow--going for good. I have got some other
+work to do. But I shall not forget you all . . . and you will hear of
+me often,--yes, you will hear of me!--and some day I will come back.
+But to-night . . . I should just like to say good-bye."
+
+Ben was secretly much distressed. "Gentleman Leigh" as he was sometimes
+called, had greatly endeared himself to their little community, and
+that he should leave them was not at all a desirable thing, and would,
+as Ben well knew, cause universal regret. But there was no time just
+now for either argument or protestation, so Ben accepted the blow as he
+accepted all buffetings of fate, and merely said,
+
+"All right! We'll be there to-night for sure!" And then Aubrey, gravely
+content, walked slowly out of the little churchyard still bare-headed,
+his eyes dark with thought,--and the reluctant sun came out of the gray
+sky and shone on his pale face and bright hair--and one or two of the
+widowed women timidly touched his arm as he passed, and murmured, "God
+bless you!" And Mary Bell, the sorrowful and sinning, clinging to the
+waist of the woman she had wronged, looked up at him appealingly with
+the strained and hunted gaze of a lost and desperate creature, and as
+he met her eyes, turned shudderingly away and wept. And he, knowing
+that words were useless, and that even the kindliest looks must wound
+in such a case, passed on in silence, and when he reached his own
+lodging took some of the newspapers which spoke of himself and his
+book, and after marking certain passages, tied them up in a packet and
+sent them to the curate with whom he had crossed swords that morning,
+accompanied by a note which briefly ran thus:--
+
+"You asked me how I 'dared' to speak to you about your duty. I
+reply--By the force of truth and the power of the pen I dare!--and I
+shall be ready to answer to God for it, as you must answer to him for
+leaving any part of YOUR duty undone.
+
+"AUBREY LEIGH."
+
+And the day passed on, half in drifting clouds, half in glimpses of
+sunshine, till late afternoon, when the sky cleared altogether, and the
+waves sank to a dead calm;--and with the night a shield-like moon, all
+glistening pearl and silver, rose up out of the east with a royal air
+of white and wondering innocence, as though she proclaimed her entire
+blamelessness for any havoc wrought by storm. And in the full radiance
+of that silvery splendour Aubrey Leigh, leaning against the sea-weed
+covered capstan of the quay, round which coils of wet rope glistened
+like the body of a sleeping serpent, told to an audience of human
+hearers for the first time the story of his life, and adventures, and
+the varied experiences he had gone through in order to arrive at some
+straight and clear comprehension of "the Way, the Truth, and the Life"
+of the Gospel of Love and Mutual Labour. His practised voice, perfect
+in all modulation, inflexion, and expression, carried each simple,
+well-chosen word home to the hearts of his hearers,--not one so
+ignorant as not to understand him--not one so blind as not to see the
+beauty of work and creative effort as he depicted them,--not one so
+insensate as not to feel the calm, the grandeur, and repose of the
+strong soul of a man in complete sympathy with his fellow-men. They
+listened to him almost breathlessly--their bronzed weather-beaten faces
+all turned towards his; forgetting to smoke, they let their pipes die
+out and drop from their hands--and no interruption broke the even flow
+and cadence of his earnest language, save the slow ripple of the water
+beating against the quay, and the faint, occasional sigh of a stirring
+wind. Silhouetted black against the radiant sky were the masts of the
+fishing fleet, and the roofs of the fishermen's cottages--dwellings so
+often made desolate by death--and as Aubrey noted the fascinated
+attention with which these rough men heard him, his heart grew strong.
+"If a few listen, so will many," he said to himself, "The Master of our
+creed first taught His divine ethics to a few fishermen,--to them the
+message was first given . . . and by them again delivered,--and it is
+through our having departed from the original simplicity of utterance
+that all the evil has crept in. So let me be content with this night's
+work and await the future with patience." Then lifting up his voice
+once more he said,--
+
+"You think your lot a hard one--you, friends and brothers, who set the
+brown sails out to sea on a night of threatening storm, and bid
+farewell to your homes built safe upon the shore. You must meet all the
+horror of white foam and cloud-blackness, to drag from the sea its
+living spoil, and earn the bread to keep yourselves and those who are
+dependent upon you,--you MUST do this, or the Forces of Life will not
+have you,--they will cast you out and refuse to nourish you. For so is
+your fate in life, and work ordained. Then where is God?--you cry, as
+the merciless billows rise to engulf your frail craft,--why should the
+Maker of man so deliberately destroy him? Why should one human unit,
+doing nothing, and often thinking nothing, enjoy hundreds of pounds a
+day, while you face death to win as many pence? Is there a God of Love
+who permits this injustice? Ah, stop there, friends! There is no such
+thing as injustice! Strange as it sounds to this world of many
+contradictions and perplexities, I repeat there is no such thing as
+injustice. There is what SEEMS injustice--because we are all apt to
+consider the material side of things only. That is where we make our
+great mistake in life and conduct. We should all remember that this
+world, and the things of this world, are but the outward expression of
+an inward soul--the Matter evolved from Mind--and that unless we are
+ourselves in harmony with the Mind, we shall never understand the
+Matter. Your millionaire is surrounded with luxuries,--your fishermen
+has dry bread and herring,--your millionaire dies, with a famous doctor
+counting his pulse-beats, and a respectable clergyman promising him
+heaven on account of the money he has left to the church in his will;
+your fisherman goes down in a swirl of black water, without a
+prayer--for he has no time to pray--without leaving a penny behind him,
+inasmuch as he has no pence to leave; and for both these different
+creatures we judge the end is come? No,--the end is NOT come! It is the
+beginning only! If the millionaire has died with a thousand selfish
+sores in his mind,--if his life's privileges have been wasted in high
+feeding and self-indulgence,--if he has thought only of himself, his
+riches, his pride, his position, or his particular form of
+respectability, he will get the full result of that mental attitude! If
+the fisherman has been content with his earnings, and thanked God for
+them,--if he has been honest, brave, true, and unselfish, and has
+shared with others their joys and sorrows, and if at the last he goes
+down in the waves trying to save some other life while losing his
+own,--depend upon it he will rise to the full splendour of THAT mental
+attitude! For both millionaire and fisherman are but men, made on the
+same lines, of the same clay, and are each one, personally and
+separately responsible to God for the soul in them,--and when both of
+them pass from this phase of being to the next, they will behold all
+things with spiritual eyes, not material ones. And then it may be that
+the dark will be discovered to be the bright, and the fortunate prove
+to be the deplorable, for at present we 'see through a glass darkly,
+but then, face to face.' The friends whom we have buried to-day are not
+dead,--for death is not Death, but Life. And for those who are left
+behind it is merely a time of waiting, for as the Master said, 'There
+shall not a hair of your head perish. In your patience possess ye your
+souls.'"
+
+He paused a moment,--the moon rays illumined his delicate features, and
+a half sorrowful smile rested on his lips.
+
+"I am no clergyman, my friends! I have not been 'ordained'. I am not
+preaching to you. I will not ask you to be good men, for there is
+something effeminate in the sound of such a request made to brawny,
+strong fellows such as you are, with an oath ready to leap from your
+lips, and a blow prepared to fly from your fists on provocation. I will
+merely say to you that it is a great thing to be a Man!--a Man as God
+meant him to be, brave, truthful, and self-reliant, with a firm faith
+in the Divine Ordainment of Life as Life should be lived. There is no
+disgrace in work;--no commonness,--no meanness. Disgrace, commonness,
+and meanness are with those who pretend to work and never do anything
+useful for the world they live in. The king who amuses himself at the
+expense and ruin of his subjects is the contemptible person,--not the
+labourer who digs the soil for the planting of corn which shall help to
+feed his fellows. And the most despicable creature of our time and
+century, is not the man who doubts Christ, or questions God--for Christ
+was patient with the doubter, and God answers, through the medium of
+science, every honest question--it is the man who pretends to believe
+and lives on the pretence, while his conduct gives the lie to his
+profession! That is why you--and why thousands of others like you, are
+beginning to look upon many of the clergy with contempt, and to treat
+their admonitions with indifference. That is why thousands of the
+rising generation of men and women will not go to church. 'The parson
+does not do anything for me,' is a common every-day statement. And that
+the parson SHOULD do something is a necessary part of his business. His
+'doing' should not consist in talking platitudes from the pulpit, or in
+sending round a collection plate. And if he has no money, and will not
+'sell half that he has and give to the poor' as commanded, he can at
+any rate give sympathy. But this is precisely what he chiefly lacks.
+The parson's general attitude is one of either superiority or
+servility,--a 'looking down' upon his poor parishoners--a 'looking up'
+to his rich ones. A disinterested, loving observation of the troubles
+and difficulties of others never occurs to him as necessary. But this
+was precisely the example Christ gave us--an unselfish example of
+devotion to others--a supreme descent of the Divine into man to rescue
+and bless humanity. Now I know all your difficulties and sorrows,--I
+have worked among you, and lived among you--and I feel the pulse of
+your existence beating in my own heart. I know that when a great
+calamity overwhelms you all as it has done this week, you have no one
+to comfort you,--no one to assure you that no matter how strange and
+impossible it seems, you have been deprived of your associates for some
+GOOD cause which will be made manifest in due season,--that they have
+probably been taken to save them from a worse fate than the loss of
+earth-consciousness in the sea. For that, scientifically speaking, is
+all that death means--the loss of earth-consciousness,--but the gain of
+another consciousness, whether of another earth or a heaven none can
+say. But there is no real death--inasmuch as even a grain of dust in
+the air will generate life. We must hold fast to the Soul of
+things--the Soul which is immortal, not the body which is mortal. 'What
+shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own
+soul!' That is what each man of us must find, and hold, and keep,--his
+own soul! Apart from all creeds, and clergy, forms and rituals--that is
+the vital matter. Stand clear of all things,--all alone if need be,
+surrounded by the stupendous forces of this great universe,--let us
+find,--each man of us--his own soul; find and keep it brave, truthful,
+upright, and bound straight on for the highest,--the highest always!
+And the very stars in their courses will help us--storms will but
+strengthen us--difficulties but encourage us--and death itself shall
+but give us larger liberty."
+
+He ceased, and one by one the men drew closer to him, and thanked him,
+in voices that were tremulous with the emotion he had raised in them.
+The instinct which had led them to call him "Gentleman Leigh" had
+proved correct,--and there was not a man among them all who did not
+feel a thrill of almost fraternal pride in the knowledge that the
+dauntless, hard-working "mate" who had fronted tempests with them, and
+worked with them in all weathers, had without any boast or loquacious
+preparation, made his name famous and fit for discussion in the great
+world of London far away, a world to which none of them had ever
+journeyed. And they pressed round him and shook his hand, and gave him
+simple yet hearty words of cheer and goodwill, together with unaffected
+expressions of regret that he was leaving them,--"though for that
+matter," said one of them, "we allus felt you was a scholard-like, for
+all that you was so handy at the nets. For never did a bit of shell or
+weed come up from the sea but ye was a lookin' at it as if God had
+throwed it to yer for particular notice. And when a man takes to
+obsarvin' common things as if they were special birthday presents from
+the Almighty, ye may be pretty sure there's something out of the
+ordinary in him!"
+
+Aubrey smiled, and pressed the hand of this roughly eloquent
+speaker,--and then they all walked with him up from the shore to the
+little cottage where he had lived for so many months, and at the gate
+of which he bade them farewell.
+
+"But only for a time," he said, "I shall see you all again. And you
+will hear of me!"
+
+"Ay, ay, we'll hear of ye--for we'll take the papers in just for news
+of yer!" said Ben, with a rough laugh which covered his deeper
+feelings, "And mebbe ye'll come back afore we's all drownded!"
+
+And so with a few more kindly words they left him, and he stood at the
+gate watching their stalwart figures disappear down the different
+windings of the crooked and picturesque little street.
+
+"God bless them all!" he murmured, "They have taught me many a grand
+lesson!"
+
+The next day he took his quiet departure in the early morning before
+the village folks were up and stirring,--and a month later he addressed
+a large meeting in one of the poorest and most densely populated
+districts of London on "The Ethics of Christ versus the Clergy", which
+attracted universal attention and created an enormous sensation. His
+book began to sell in thousands where it had previously sold in
+hundreds, and he earned sufficient from the profits of the sale to keep
+him going in the simple fashion of clothes and food to which he had
+strictly disciplined himself, so that he felt free to plunge into the
+thick of the fight. And he straightway did so. His name became a terror
+to liars, and a clarion sound of alarm in the ears of social
+hypocrites. He wrote another book which obtained even a larger hearing
+than the first--and he spoke to the people on an average once a week,
+wherever he could assemble them together. All his addresses were made
+gratuitously, and he soon resembled a sort of blazing torch in the
+darkness, to which the crowds rushed for light and leading. In the
+midst of the sensation his writings and orations were creating, a noble
+lord, with several Church livings in his gift, asked him to stand for
+Parliament, and offered to pay the expenses of his election. At first
+Aubrey was sufficiently tempted by the offer to pause hesitatingly on
+the verge of acceptance, but twenty-four hours' hard thinking promptly
+pulled him together. "No," he said--"I see what you mean! You and your
+party wish to tie my hands--to gag my mouth, and make me as one of
+yourselves--no, I will not consent to it. I will serve the people with
+all my life and soul!--but not in YOUR way!"
+
+And to avoid further discussion he went straight out of England for a
+time, and travelled through Europe, making friends everywhere, and
+learning new phases of the "Christian Dispensation" at every turn in
+his road. Paris had held him fascinated for a long while, not only
+because he saw her doom written like that of Babylon in letters of
+fire, and Ruin, like a giant bird of prey hovering over her with beak
+and claw prepared to pick the very flesh from her bones,--but also
+because he had met Angela Sovrani, one of the most rarely-gifted types
+of womanhood he had ever seen. He recognised her genius at once, and
+marvelled at it. And still more did he marvel at her engagement of
+marriage with Florian Varillo. That such a fair, proud creature so
+splendidly endowed, could consent to unite herself to a man so vastly
+inferior, was an interesting puzzle to him. He had met Varillo by
+chance in Naples one winter before he ever saw Angela, and knew that
+half his claim to the notice of the social world there was the fact of
+his betrothal to the famous "Sovrani." And moved by a strange desire to
+follow out this romance, and also because he was completing his studies
+of the Roman Church viewed as a "moral support to the education and
+elevation of man," he, after leaving Paris, and paying a brief visit to
+Florence on a matter of business which could not be attended to
+otherwise than personally, went on as though drawn by some invisible
+magnet to Rome. He had only been twenty-four hours in the city, when
+chance had led him under the balcony where the sculptured angels
+fronted the moon, and from whence the sweet voice of Sylvie Hermenstein
+had floated towards him with the words,--
+
+"Ti voglio ben assai, E tu non pensi a me."
+
+And he who had faced crowds without a tremor, and had flung
+thunderbolts of splendid defiance at shams, with the manner of a young
+Ajax defying the lightning, now found himself strangely put out and
+disturbed in his usual composure by the innocent aspect, and harmless
+perfume of a rose,--a mere little pink petalled thing, with not even a
+thorn on its polished green stalk! He had placed it in a glass of water
+on his writing table, and his eyes rested upon it the morning after he
+had received it with almost a reproachful air. What was its
+golden-hearted secret? Why, when he studied it, did he see the soft hue
+of a fair cheek, the flash of a bright eye, the drooping wave of a
+golden web of hair, the dainty curve of a white arm on which the
+sparkle of diamonds gleamed? How was it that he managed to perceive all
+this in the leaves of a rose? He could not tell; and he was angry with
+himself for his inability to explain the puzzle. He reminded himself
+that he had business in Rome--"business," he repeated sternly to his
+own conscience,--the chief part of which was to ascertain from some one
+of the leading spirits at the Vatican the view taken by the Papacy of
+the Ritualistic movement in England.
+
+"If you can gauge correctly the real feeling, and render it in plain
+terms, apart from all conventional or social considerations," wrote his
+publisher in a letter which had just reached him--"that is, if you dare
+to do so much--and I think you will scarcely hesitate--you will
+undoubtedly give great and lasting help to Christian England." As he
+read this over for the second or third time he remembered that he had
+an appointment with a certain powerful personage, known as Monsignor
+Gherardi, that morning at eleven.
+
+"And you," he said, apostrophising the rose with a protesting shake of
+his head, "were nearly making me forget it!" He lifted the flower out
+of the water and touched it with his lips. "She was a fair
+creature,--the woman who wore you last night!"--he said with a smile as
+he put it carefully back again in its glass, "In fact, she was very
+much like you! But though I notice you have no thorns, I dare say she
+has!" He paused a moment, lost in thought, the smile still giving
+warmth and light to his features; then with a quick movement of
+impatience at his own delaying, threw on his coat and hat and left the
+room, saying, "Now for Gherardi!"
+
+
+
+
+XIX.
+
+Set square and dark against the pale blue of the Italian sky the
+Palazzo Sovrani, seen for the first time, suggests a prison rather than
+a dwelling house,--a forbidding structure, which though of unsentient
+marble, seems visibly to frown into the light, and exhale from itself a
+cloud on the clearest day. Its lowest windows, raised several feet from
+the ground, and barred across with huge iron clamps, altogether deprive
+the would-be inquisitive stranger from the possibility of peering
+within,--the monstrous iron gate, richly wrought with fantastic
+scroll-work and heraldic emblems raised in brass, presents so cold and
+forbidding a front that some of the youthful ladies who were Angela's
+friends, were wont to declare that it gave them a palpitation of the
+heart to summon up the necessary courage required to ring the great
+bell. Within the house there was much of a similar gloom, save in
+Angela's own studio, which she had herself made beautiful with a
+brightness and lightness found in no other corner of the vast and
+stately abode. Her father, Prince Pietro Sovrani, was of a reserved and
+taciturn nature,--poor but intensely proud--and he would suffer no
+interference by so much as a word or a suggestion respecting the manner
+in which he chose to arrange or to order his household. His wife Gita
+Bonpre, the only sister of the good Cardinal, had been the one love of
+his life,--and when she died all his happiness had died with her,--his
+heart was broken, but he showed nothing of his grief to the outside
+world, save that in manner he was more silent and reserved than
+ever,--more difficult to deal with,--more dangerous to approach. People
+knew well enough that he was poor, but they never dared to mention
+it,--though once an English acquaintance, moved by the best intentions
+in the world, had suggested that he could make a good deal of money by
+having a portion of the Palazzo Sovrani redecorated, and modernized, to
+suit the comfort and convenience of travelling millionaires who might
+probably be disposed to pay a high rent for it during the Roman
+"season." But the proposal was disastrous in its results. Sovrani had
+turned upon his adviser like an embodied thunder-cloud.
+
+"When a prince of the House of Sovrani lets out apartments," he said,
+"you may ask your English Queen to take in washing!"
+
+And a saturnine smile, accompanied by the frowning bend of his white
+fuzzy eyebrows over his flashing black eyes, had produced such a
+withering, blistering effect on the soul of the unfortunate Englishman,
+whose practical ideas of utility had exceeded his prudence, that he had
+scarcely ever dared to look the irate Italian noble in the face again.
+
+Just now, the Prince was in his library, seated in dignified
+uprightness like a king enthroned to give audience, in a huge
+high-backed chair, shadowed over by an ancient gilded baldacchino,
+listening with a certain amount of grim patience to his daughter's
+softly murmured narrative of her stay in Paris. He had received the
+Cardinal an hour ago on his arrival, with first, a humble genuflexion
+as became a son of the Church, and secondly with a kiss on both cheeks
+as became a brother-in-law. The Cardinal's youthful companion Manual,
+he had scarcely remarked, even while giving him welcome. These two had
+gone to the suite of rooms prepared for the reception of His
+Eminence,--but Angela, after hastily changing her travelling dress, had
+come down to her father, anxious not only to give, but to hear
+news--especially news of Florian Varillo. Prince Sovrani, however, was
+not a man given to much social observation,--nor did he ever break
+through his half cynical, half gloomy humour, to detail the gossip of
+Rome, and he therefore sat more or less unmoved, while Angela told him
+all she could think of that would interest him. At last with a little
+delicate hesitation, she related the strange story of Abbe Vergniaud,
+and added,
+
+"And by this time, I suppose, the Holy Father has been told all!"
+
+"Naturally," said the Prince, with a stern smile moving the hard
+muscles of his mouth, "Moretti's love of scandal is as deep as that of
+any old woman!--and the joy of excommunicating a soul from the
+salvation of the Church must be too exquisite to admit of any delay! I
+am sorry for Vergniaud, but I do not think he will suffer much. These
+things are scarcely ever noticed in the press nowadays, and it will
+only be a very limited circle that even learns of his excommunication.
+Nevertheless, I am sorry--one is always sorry for brave men, even if
+they are reckless. And the son is Gys Grandit! Corpo di Bacco! What a
+denouement!"
+
+He considered it a moment, looking straight before him at the rows of
+ancient and musty books that adorned his walls,--then he gave a sudden
+exclamation.
+
+"Pesta! I had nearly forgotten! I knew there was a curious thing I had
+to tell you, Angela,--but in the hurry of your arrival it had for the
+moment escaped my mind . . ."
+
+"About Florian?" asked Angela anxiously.
+
+The Prince bent his brows upon her quizzically.
+
+"Florian! What should I know about Florian? He has not been near me
+since you left Rome. I fancy he will not be too attentive a son-in-law!
+No, it is not about Florian. It is about your uncle Felix. Have you
+heard of this miracle he has performed?"
+
+Angela's eyes opened wide.
+
+"A miracle! What do you mean by a miracle?"
+
+"Santissima Madonna! A miracle is always a miracle," retorted her
+father testily, "A something out of the common, and an upsetting of the
+ordinary laws of nature. Did your uncle tell you nothing of his visit
+to Rouen?"
+
+"Nothing," replied Angela, "Nothing but the story of Manuel."
+
+"Manuel? Who is he?"
+
+"The boy he has with him now. Uncle Felix found him lost at night near
+the Cathedral of Rouen, and has taken him under his protection ever
+since."
+
+"Altro! That is nothing!" said her father, "That is only one of Felix's
+quixotic ideas. There is no miracle in that. But when a child is a
+cripple from babyhood, and our Felix cures him by one simple prayer,
+and makes him strong and well again--Gran Dio!--it is not remarkable
+that such news creates a stir at the Vatican."
+
+"But it cannot be true!" said Angela surprised, "Uncle Felix never said
+a word about it. I am sure he knows nothing whatever of such a report!"
+
+"Ebben! We will ask him presently,"--and the Prince raised himself
+stiffly and slowly out of his throne-like chair, "Personally I have
+considered Felix above any sort of priestly trickery; but after all, if
+he has an ambition for the Papacy, I do not see why he should not play
+for it. Others do!"
+
+"Oh, father!" cried Angela, "How can you think such a thing of Uncle
+Felix! He is as nearly a saint as any mortal man can be!"
+
+"So I always thought, child--so I always thought!" replied the Prince,
+with a vexed air, "But to perform such a miracle of healing as to cure
+a child with a twisted spine and bent legs, by the mere utterance of a
+prayer!--that is impossible!--impossible! It sounds like
+charlatanism--not like Felix!"
+
+As he spoke he straightened himself and stood upright, a tall, spare,
+elegant figure of a man,--his dark complexioned face very much
+resembling a fine bronze cast of the Emperor Aurelius. Angela rose too
+and stood beside him, and his always more or less defiant eyes slowly
+softened as he looked at her.
+
+"You grow very like your mother," he said, with just the faintest
+tremor in his voice--"Ah, la mia Gita!"
+
+A sigh that was like a groan broke from his lips, and Angela laid her
+head caressingly against his breast in silence. He touched her soft
+hair tenderly.
+
+"Very like your mother," he repeated, "Very like! But you will leave me
+soon, as she has left me,--not for Heaven, no!--but for that doubtful
+new life called marriage. It is not doubtful when there is love--love
+in both hearts;--and if there is any difference at all, the love should
+be greater on the man's side than on the woman's! Remember that, Angela
+mia, remember that! The true lover is always spiritually on his knees
+before the woman he loves; not only in passion, but in worship--in
+reverence!"
+
+"And is not Florian so?" murmured Angela timidly.
+
+"I do not know, child; he may be! Sometimes I think that he loves
+himself too much to love YOU as well as you deserve. But we shall see."
+
+As he spoke a servant entered, carrying an exquisite basket of flowers,
+and brought it to Angela who blushed and smiled divinely as she took it
+and opened the envelope fastened to its handle and addressed to her,
+which contained merely these words,--
+
+ "A la mia dolcezza! Con voto d'eterno amore!
+ "FLORIAN."
+
+"Are they not lovely?" she said, bending over the blossoms tenderly as
+though she would have taken them all into her embrace, "Such a sweet
+welcome home!"
+
+Her father nodded, but gave no verbal response to her enthusiasm.
+Presently he said,
+
+"How about your picture? When will it be finished?"
+
+"A month's work will be enough now," she replied, looking up
+quickly--"And then--"
+
+"Then it will remain in one of the galleries unsold!" said Sovrani,
+with a touch of bitterness in his tone which he could not quell, "You
+have chosen too large a canvas. From mere size it is unsaleable,--for
+unless it were a marvel of the world no nation would ever purchase a
+woman's picture."
+
+Angela's delicate head drooped,--she turned away to hide the tears that
+rushed to her eyes. Her father's words were harsh, yet eminently
+practical; she knew he did not mean them unkindly, but that the
+continual pinch of poverty was sometimes greater than he could endure
+with patience. Angela had earned considerable sums of money by the
+smaller pictures which had established her name; and the Prince had
+bitterly grudged the time she had given to the enormous canvas which
+had now remained so long in her studio covered up, even from his
+eyes--for he had made up his mind that it was one of those fantastic
+dreams of genius, which when they become realised into the substance of
+a book or a picture, terrify the timid conventions of the world so
+completely as to cause general avoidance.
+
+"If Raffaelle were alive he would not paint a 'Transfiguration' now,"
+he was wont to say, "The Church no longer employs great artists. It
+keeps its money for speculation purposes. If a Michael Angelo were in
+Rome he would find nothing to do."
+
+Which statement was true enough. For the modern Italian loves money
+next to his own precious skin, and everything beautiful or sacred is
+sacrificed to this insatiable craze. There is no love, no honour, no
+patriotism in Italy without careful calculation as to the cost of
+indulging in these sentiments,--and what wreck of religion is left
+merely panders to the low melodramatic temper of an ignorant populace.
+Art is at its lowest ebb, it cannot live without encouragement and
+support--and it is difficult for even the most enthusiastic creator in
+marble or colour to carry out glorious conceptions for an inglorious
+country. But Angela Sovrani--ambitious Angela,--was not painting for
+Italy. She was painting for the whole world. She had dreams of seeing
+her great picture borne away out of Rome to Paris, and London, to be
+gazed upon by thousands who would take its lesson home to their hearts
+and lives. Italy was merely a village in the area of her aspiring mind;
+but she built her "castles in the air" alone; and never by so much as
+the smallest hint allowed anyone to guess the far reaching scope of her
+intentions. Truth to tell, she had obtained very little encouragement
+during her long days and months of work, though in the sweetness of her
+nature she pleased herself by imagining that Florian Varillo gave her a
+complete and perfect sympathy. Yet even with Florian, one or two casual
+remarks he had let fall lightly and unthinkingly, had vaguely startled
+her, and set her wondering, "Perhaps he does not think much of my
+abilities after all"--and had caused her for once to be closely
+reserved upon the subject and treatment of her work, and to refuse a
+glimpse of it even to him who was her elect Beloved. She had thought he
+would perhaps have been pained at this inviolate secrecy on her
+part,--she had feared he might take offence at finding the doors of her
+studio always locked,--but on the contrary he appeared quite amused at
+her uncommunicative humour, and jested about it as if she were a little
+child playing in a dark corner at some forbidden game. She was somewhat
+surprised at this,--the more so as he frequently spoke of the
+importance of his own pictures for the Roman "Art Season,"--pictures to
+which he really gave the attentive discussion and consideration a man
+always bestows on matters of his personal business--but often when
+Angela's work was spoken of, he smiled with a kindly tolerance, as one
+who should say, "Dear girl! How sweetly she embroiders her simple
+sampler!" And yet again, he never failed, when asked about it in
+Angela's presence, to say that he was "sure Donna Sovrani would
+astonish the world by what she was doing!" So that one never quite knew
+where to have him, his nature being that curious compound of obsequious
+servility and intense self-love which so often distinguishes the
+Italian temperament. Angela however put every shadow of either wonder
+or doubt as to his views, entirely aside,--and worked on with an
+earnest hand and trusting heart, faithfully and with a grand patience
+and self-control seldom found either in masculine or feminine heroes.
+Sometimes her spirit sank a little, as now, when her father told her
+that her picture would remain unsold in one of the galleries--but all
+the same, some force within her urged her to go on with her intention
+steadily, and leave all results to God. And the tears that had sprung
+to her eyes at the smart of old Sovrani's rough speech, soon returned
+to their source; and she was quite her composed sweet self again when
+her uncle the Cardinal, accompanied by Manuel, entered the room,
+holding an open letter in his hand, and looking strangely agitated.
+
+"Brother, here is a matter which I cannot possibly understand," he
+said, "Monsignor Gherardi writes here to congratulate me upon a miracle
+I have worked in Rouen!--and summons me at once to the presence of His
+Holiness! What can it mean? I have performed no miracle! Surely some
+jest is being played with me,--and one most unbecoming to a man of
+Gherardi's position and influence!"
+
+Prince Sovrani took the letter from Bonpre's hand and read it in
+silence.
+
+"Yes--I have heard about it already," he said, "And if you indeed know
+nothing, it is strange! But can you not remember--is there no clue to
+such a report? Were there no sick children brought to you . . . ?"
+
+"Oh, for that," answered the Cardinal quickly, "a little boy named
+Fabien Doucet, was brought to me by the children of an inn-keeper of
+the Hotel Poitiers where I stayed two nights, and to grant their
+wishes, (and also because it is my duty to do what I can for the
+suffering and the afflicted), I laid my hands upon him and prayed to
+our Lord that he might be healed."
+
+"Ebbene! Our Lord has then healed him," said Sovrani drily, "It is
+remarkable!--but if the cure is truly accomplished, we shall have to
+admit that the Deity does sometimes pay attention to our many prayers,
+though for the most part they appear to fall upon a deaf, dumb, and
+irresponsive Silence."
+
+The Cardinal sat down, wearily resting his head on his hand.
+
+"I do not like it!" he said, "It is altogether amazing to me; it seems
+like a snare set to catch my soul! For I have no power to perform
+miracles . . . I can only pray."
+
+"And why should not your prayer be answered?" asked Manuel suddenly.
+
+They had all forgotten the boy's presence in the room, and his voice
+startled them. His young face was pale, yet tranquil--and the deep
+tenderness that always dwelt in his eyes seemed deeper and softer at
+this moment than ever.
+
+"Truly I do not see why," said Prince Sovrani, bending his fierce
+regard full on the lad as he spoke, and beginning to wonder like the
+rest at his fairness and beauty, "Only as a rule, fanciuollo
+mio--prayer is mere waste of breath--a demand without supply."
+
+"Is that not perhaps the fault of the person who prays?" said Manuel,
+"May that person not lack faith and pure intention? May he not even be
+too self-absorbed to lift his soul high enough for an approach to God?
+When the disciples were vexed that they could not cure a child that was
+afflicted, and saw that their Master healed that child at once, they
+asked why they were unable to do what He did. And He told them plainly,
+'Because of your unbelief. For verily I say unto you, if ye have faith
+as a grain of mustard seed ye shall say unto this mountain, remove from
+yonder place, and it shall remove, and nothing shall be impossible to
+you.' And I am sure that my lord the Cardinal's faith is greater than a
+grain of mustard seed!"
+
+They were all silent. Cardinal Bonpre turned his eyes thoughtfully on
+the young speaker
+
+"You were with me, child, when the little cripple sat on my knee and
+held my crucifix," he said in a low tone, "You saw--you heard all. What
+did I do?--what did I say?"
+
+"You held him in your arms, even as Christ took little children in His
+arms and blessed them," replied Manuel, "And you prayed--and in your
+prayer you said--'King and Master of all such children, even as Thou
+wert a child Thyself, be pleased to heal him of his sad infirmity. For
+if Thou wilt, Thou canst make this bent body straight, and these
+withered muscles strong,--from death itself Thou canst ordain life, and
+nothing is impossible unto Thee!'"
+
+There was a pause. Then Manuel added,--
+
+"That is what you said, my lord Cardinal;--and when the child went
+away, you told him that if the giving of your own life could make him
+strong, he should have that life willingly. Some people might say that
+without meaning it,--but you meant what you said,--every word came
+straight from your heart. And should it then surprise you that God has
+granted your prayer?"
+
+Prince Sovrani listened to the dulcet young voice with a strange
+emotion. Something holy and convincing seemed to emanate from the boy's
+very presence, and though he, as became a modern Italian, was
+thoroughly sceptical and atheistical, and would have willingly argued
+against the very words of Christ as written in the Gospel, some curious
+hesitation that was almost shamefacedness held him silent. But the
+Cardinal was even more strongly moved. The earnest spirit of truth with
+which Manuel appeared always to be environed,--his simple and straight
+enunciation of the old, oft-quoted phrases used by the Divine Saviour
+of the world,--and then his unfaltering memory of the simple prayer
+that had been said for the comfort of the unfortunate little Fabien
+Doucet, together with this strange and unexpected announcement of the
+child's miraculous cure,--these things rushed over the mind of the good
+Bonpre like an overwhelming flood, and confused his brain--strange
+half-formed thoughts occurred to him that he dared not express, chief
+among which was a vague, a terrifying idea that the young boy beside
+him who spoke so sweetly, and almost so commandingly, must surely be an
+Angel! Strange legends of the Church began to recur to him;--legends of
+old-time when angels had descended to walk with priests in their
+monastic seclusion, and instruct them as to the value of time, as in
+the "Legend Beautiful," when the monk Felix, being perplexed by the
+phrase "a day with God is as a thousand years," went to sleep in a
+garden, soothed by the singing of the birds at sunset, and woke up to
+find that in his slumber a century had rolled away! All manner of
+fantastic notions swept in upon him, and he grew suddenly blind and
+dizzy--rising from his chair totteringly he extended his hands--then
+suddenly sank back again in a dead faint. Sovrani caught him as he
+fell--and Angela ran for water, and tenderly bathed his forehead while
+Manuel took his hand and held it fast.
+
+"Too long a journey, and too much excitement!" said the Prince,--"Our
+Felix is growing old,--he cannot stand fatigue. He is failing fast!"
+
+"Oh, no," said Manuel brightly, "He is not failing! He is younger by
+far than he seems! He is too strong to fail!"
+
+And as he spoke the Cardinal opened his eyes and smiled with an
+expression of perfect rapture.
+
+"Why, what has ailed me?" he enquired, looking at Angela's anxious
+face, "I had but gone for a moment into the presence of my Lord!" Here
+he paused, and then gradually recovering himself entirely, sat upright.
+
+"All is well with me!" he said, pressing the hand of Manuel in his own,
+and releasing it again, "Do not fret, Angela,--it was the merest
+passing faintness. Forgive me, brother, for alarming you thus
+foolishly! As for the letter from the Vatican concerning this miracle,
+I must needs present myself before His Holiness and assure him that I
+know nothing of it,--that I did no more than pray--that I left the
+crippled child still crippled--and that if indeed it be true he is
+healed, it is by the merciful act of God and--the intervention of our
+Lord and Saviour Christ, to Whom be all the praise and glory!"
+
+He rose up again from his chair and stood full height,--a grand and
+beautiful figure of noble old age, transfigured by the light of some
+never-aging thought, some glorious inspiration. And Angela, who had
+been startled and alarmed by his sudden fainting fit, was even more
+overcome by the sight of him thus radiant and selfpossessed, and
+dropping on her knees she caught his hand and kissed it, her tears
+falling fast. He stooped and raised her.
+
+"Child, why are you weeping?" he said tenderly, "Nay, I am not so ill
+as you think me! I am well--strong!--ready for the doing of many things
+in my Master's service! Pietro, take this dear girl and comfort her!"
+and he put her gently into her father's arms,--"For myself, I have work
+to do--work to do!--" he repeated musingly,--"I see trouble ahead!--but
+I shall face it--and if God please--overcome it!" His, eyes flashed,
+and after a moment he resumed, "I will write to Gherardi now--and
+to-morrow--to-morrow I will speak!"
+
+"Can I help you, brother?" asked the Prince, taken out of himself by
+the air of splendour and sovereignty which seemed to surround the
+Cardinal as with a divine halo, "You are fatigued with your
+journey,--let me write for you!"
+
+"No, Pietro! I must do this myself, and think well of all I should
+say." He paused, then added, "They tell me Claude Cazeau, secretary to
+the Archbishop of Rouen brought the news of this so-called miracle to
+Rome. I should have liked to have seen that man to-night."
+
+"You will see him at the Vatican," said Sovrani. with a touch of irony,
+"That will be time enough! Oh, innocent Felix! Do you not see you will
+be confronted with Cazeau? And that Gherardi and his set will be there
+to note your every look and gesture, and privately judge as to whether
+you and the Archbishop of Rouen concocted the miracle between you! And
+that if you were to see this Cazeau to-night, that very meeting would
+be taken as a sign of conspiracy!"
+
+Over the pale features of the Cardinal rushed a warm glow of
+indignation, but it died away as rapidly as it had come.
+
+"True!" he said simply, "I forgot! If a good deed is done in the world
+by the force of the undefined Spirit of Christ, it is judged as
+trickery,--and we must never forget that even the Resurrection of our
+Blessed Lord from the dead is believed by some to be a mere matter of
+conspiracy among His disciples. True--I forgot the blindness,--the
+melancholy blindness of the world! But we must always say, 'Father
+forgive them, for they know not what they do!' I will write to
+Gherardi,--and,--if you will permit me, I will remain in my own rooms
+tonight for I must think and pray,--I must be alone . . ."
+
+"Without me, my lord Cardinal?" asked Manuel softly.
+
+"No, not without you!" and Bonpre looked at him with a smile, "Not
+without you! I have no wish to be so much alone as your absence would
+make me. Come!"
+
+And lifting the heavy velvet portiere at the door, he held it back for
+his "foundling" to pass,--and then slowly followed.
+
+
+
+
+XX.
+
+On the first floor of an ancient mansion, in a street which slopes down
+towards the Tiber, there is a suite of dreary old rooms which must
+evidently have once belonged to some great "Prince of the Church", (to
+use the term which Cardinal Bonpre held so much in aversion,) if one
+may form any opinion from the ecclesiastical designs on the faded green
+hangings, which cling like moss to the damp walls, and give an
+additional melancholy to the general gloom The "salon" or
+audience-chamber is perhaps the best in repair, and possesses a
+gorgeous, painted ceiling, bordered by a frieze of red and gold,
+together with one or two large pictures, which perhaps if cleaned might
+show the touch of some great Master, but which in their sad condition
+of long neglect, present nothing to the view but a dark blur of
+indistinct outlines. The rooms in their entirety composed the business,
+or town dwelling of Monsignor Gherardi, one of the cleverest, most
+astute, and most unscrupulous of men, to whom Religion was nothing more
+than a means of making money and gaining power. There was scarcely a
+Roman Catholic "community" in the world, in which Gherardi had not a
+share,--and he was particularly concerned in "miraculous shrines",
+which were to him exactly in the same category as "companies" are to
+the speculator on the Stock Exchange. He had been cautious, prudent,
+and calculating from his earliest years,--from the time when, as the
+last male scion of the house of Gherardi he had been educated for the
+Ecclesiastical career at the "College of Nobles". He had read widely,
+and no religious or social movement took place anywhere without his
+knowing of it and admitting it into his calculations as a sort of new
+figure in his barking sum. He was an extensive shareholder in the
+"Lourdes" business; and a careful speculator in all the religious
+frenzies of the uneducated and superstitious. His career had been very
+successful so far. He had amassed a considerable fortune; and away out
+towards Frascati he had a superb Villa, furnished with every modern
+luxury and convenience, (not rented in his own name, but in that of a
+man whom he paid heavily to serve him as his tool and menial,)--where a
+beautiful Neapolitan danseuse condescended to live as his mistress;--he
+was a diplomat for himself if not for his country, and kept his finger
+on the pulse of European politics as well as on the fluctuating fevers
+of new creeds. But he never troubled himself seriously as to the
+possible growth of any "movement", or "society", or "crusade"; as
+experience had taught him that no matter how ardently thinkers may
+propound theories, and enthusiasts support them, there is always a
+dense and steady wave of opposition surging against everything
+new,--and that few can be found whose patience will hold out
+sufficiently long to enable them to meet and ride over that wet wall of
+dull resistance.
+
+Monsignor Gherardi was a most useful man at the Vatican, as he never
+failed to comfort the Pope whenever that Holy Personage was cast down
+or afraid of brooding disasters. When the Representative of the
+ever-merciful Christ ventured to give it out as his Christian opinion
+that the unhappy and maltreated Dreyfus would be found guilty Monsignor
+Gherardi smilingly agreed with him. When His Holiness denounced
+Freemasonry as a wicked association, formed for atheistical and
+revolutionary purposes, Gherardi, though he knew well enough that it
+was a fraternity formed for the mutual help and sustainment of its
+members, denounced it too;--in the gardens of the Vatican, but not
+elsewhere. There was nothing really either in the way of Freemasonry or
+other sort of "society", that he was afraid of;--no anxiety whatever
+troubled his mind, except the possibility of losing money by some
+incautious speculation. In appearance he was an exceedingly handsome
+man,--tall, with a fine figure and commanding features,--physical
+advantages which greatly helped him to enforce his spiritual authority.
+As he sat in his high-backed, gilded chair, turning over papers on his
+desk, docketing this and marking that for reference, his dark eyes
+sparkling with avidity as he counted up certain dividends obtained from
+mysterious shares in "miracle" health resorts, and a smile of
+satisfaction playing on the firm, well-shaped curve of his intellectual
+but hard mouth, he looked an imposing personage enough, of the very
+type to awe the weak and timorous. He was much entertained on this
+particular morning,--one might almost say he was greatly amused. Quite
+a humorous little comedy was being played at the Vatican,--a
+mock-solemn farce, which had the possibility of ending in serious
+disaster to the innocent,--and he, as a student of the wily and
+treacherous side of human nature, was rather interested in its
+development. Cardinal Felix Bonpre, a man living far away in an obscure
+cathedral-town of France, where he had become renowned for good works
+and saintly living, had now, after many years, come out of his long
+voluntary retirement, and had performed a miracle!
+
+"And very well done too!" murmured Monsignor Gherardi, smiling to
+himself, "Well prepared, well thought out, and successfully
+accomplished! Our good Felix is much cleverer than I gave him credit
+for. First, he wins a renown for good works,--then he starts travelling
+toward Rome, the Mother of our Faith,--and on his way to the sacred
+city performs a miraculous cure! An excellent move! I see a possibility
+of making the Cathedral of Rouen a popular shrine for healing. Yes,
+much can be done there! Only I am sorry that Felix has made a little
+mistake in Paris--just a little mistake!--in that matter of Vergniaud.
+And it is exceedingly unfortunate that the son should turn out to be
+Gys Grandit. No wonder the Holy Father is troubled;--no wonder! It is a
+little drama of the age, and will no doubt prove complex in its
+movement, and worth watching." Here his smile broadened,--and his eyes
+glittered more keenly than ever "Yes!--it will be an excitement; and
+one wants a little excitement now and then in the general monotony.
+Since Agostino preached,--" here he paused, and a dark contraction
+knitted his brows,--"Let me see!--this morning, yes!--this morning I
+receive the English socialist Aubrey Leigh."
+
+He turned in his chair, and glanced at the dial of a huge ticking clock
+behind him, and saw that the hands were close on the appointed hour of
+eleven. His smile slowly disappeared, and vanished altogether in a
+heavy frown. "A dangerous man! I do not like his book--it is written in
+melodramatic style, with heat and with enthusiasm, and will attract the
+vulgar. He must be suppressed--but how?"
+
+He rose and paced the room slowly, his long white hands clasped behind
+his back, and the frown on his brows deepened;--how suppress a man who
+had announced himself as free of every Church and Creed, and who was
+resolved to stand by the moral ethics of Christ only? A man who desired
+nothing for himself, not even money;--"But stop!" thought
+Gherardi,--"that is absurd! Every man wants money! Every man must have
+it, and the more he has, the more he seeks. There is no one in the
+world who cannot be bought or bribed!"
+
+At that moment the green hangings of the door were lifted, and the
+Italian man-servant announced,--
+
+"Il Signor Aubri Lee!"
+
+Gherardi, who in his pacing to and fro had reached the window, wheeled
+round abruptly and faced his entering visitor. The light fell aslant
+upon his stately figure as he drew himself up to his full height, and
+greeted Leigh with a suavely condescending bow and smile, while Aubrey
+in turn glanced him up and down with a pleasurable consciousness of his
+intellectual appearance, and evident combative temperament.
+
+"You are welcome, Mr. Leigh," said Gherardi, speaking English with a
+fluency of which he was pardonably proud, "Your letter from Florence
+received my instant attention, and as you see, I have made it a point
+to receive you at once--in spite of pressing business. Yes,--in spite
+of pressing business! I confess I have been curious to see the writer
+who has made himself so obnoxious to our dear friends and brothers, the
+English clergy!"
+
+A smile that was brilliant, but which conveyed no meaning whatever,
+illumined his features; but for all reply to these words Aubrey simply
+bowed and remained silent. Gherardi glanced at him sharply. Was he
+intimidated already?--overawed at being in the presence of one who was
+known to be a friend and confidant of the Pope? No--there was nothing
+of fear or embarrassment in the composed attitude, proud manner, and
+reserved expression of this slim, muscular man, with the bright hair
+and keen eyes,--and Gherardi dropped his tone of patronage for one of
+courtesy.
+
+"Pray sit down!" he said, "I understand that you wish to obtain a
+private audience of the Holy Father. That of course is impossible!"
+
+Aubrey drew a chair slowly towards the desk where Gherardi had resumed
+his own usual seat, and raised his eyes with a curious look of half
+satirical questioning.
+
+"Impossible!" he said, "And why?"
+
+Gherardi almost laughed.
+
+"Why? My dear sir, is it necessary to ask? Your name is sufficiently
+well-known! and--I am sorry to tell you so,--but it is quite as
+unpleasant at the Vatican as that of Gys Grandit!"
+
+"Gys Grandit is a friend of mine," responded Aubrey composedly, "In
+fact, I may almost say he is my disciple. I found him working in the
+fields as a little peasant lad,--the love child, or 'bastard,' to put
+it roughly, of some priest whose name he never told me. He was helping
+to earn daily bread for his deserted mother whose maiden name he then
+bore; and I helped to train his evident genius in the way it has since
+developed."
+
+"I cannot congratulate you on your pupil!" said Gherardi, smiling
+coldly, "The offspring of a priest's sin is not likely to do the world
+any credit. The son of the renegade Abbe Vergniaud may become
+notorious, but never famous!"
+
+Aubrey Leigh started up from his chair doubting whether he had heard
+aright.
+
+"The son of Abbe Vergniaud!" he exclaimed, "Is it possible! No, you
+must surely be mistaken!--I know the Abbe,--I saw him in Paris but a
+fortnight ago!"
+
+"Indeed! Well, since that time strange things have happened," said
+Gherardi, still preserving his calm inscrutability of demeanour, "We
+have had our news from Monsignor Moretti, an envoy of ours in Paris, on
+secret service. To put it briefly,--Vergniaud, for no particular cause
+whatever, save perhaps the idea--(which may be only an idea)--that he
+is going to die soon, has made a public confession of his
+twenty-five-year-old crime and hypocrisy, in a blasphemous address
+preached from the pulpit of Notre Dame de Lorette. The son, known to
+the world as Gys Grandit, was present in the church, and fired a pistol
+shot at his father, hoping to murder him,--then came the theatrical
+denouement of the whole scene;--the Abbe ordered the gendarmes to
+release the assassin, pronouncing him to be his son. And finally--the
+saddest incident of all--there took place the mutual pardon and
+reconciliation of both parties in the presence of one of our most
+respected and beloved Princes of the Church, Cardinal Felix Bonpre,
+whose grave error in this matter is causing poignant and loving sorrow
+to the Holy Father!"
+
+A curious expression began to appear in the delicate lines of Aubrey's
+face--an expression which some of his London audiences knew so well,
+and which generally meant war.
+
+"You surprise me, Monsignor," he said in quiet accents,--"Events move
+quickly, I know, in a quickly moving age,--still your news is entirely
+unexpected. I never knew till now who the father of my friend Gys
+Grandit was;--but now that I do know I think the public confession you
+tell me of, was the only fitting reparation such a man as the Abbe
+could make to the dead woman who was his wife in the sight of God, as
+well as to his living son, and the public generally. I never quite
+liked or trusted the Abbe; but if all this be true, he has risen a
+hundred per cent, in my opinion! As for Cardinal Bonpre, one of the
+noblest and purest of men, you surely cannot be in earnest when you
+speak of his having committed a grave error!"
+
+"You know the Cardinal?" asked Gherardi evading the question.
+
+"I was presented to him in Paris the day before I left for Florence,"
+replied Aubrey, "at the studio of his niece, Donna Angela Sovrani."
+
+"Ah!" and Gherardi balanced a paper-knife lightly on the point of his
+long forefinger, "An unpleasant woman that! One of the female
+'geniuses' who presume nowadays to compete with men in art and
+literature."
+
+"In Donna Sovrani's case there can be no question of competition,"
+answered Leigh quietly, "She is by far and away the best artist of her
+time."
+
+"You think so? Very good, very good!" and Gherardi laughed a little,
+"You are very chivalrous! You have a touch of the American in you, have
+you not?--there is a tendency in the men of the New World to be always
+on their knees before women. Strange, very strange!"
+
+"We begin our lives in that way," replied Leigh, "We kneel to our
+mothers!"
+
+A slight flush reddened Gherardi's yellow paleness, but he kept his
+smile well in evidence.
+
+"Charmingly expressed--very charmingly!" he said suavely, "And so you
+have met our dear St. Felix! Well, well! And did he tell you all about
+the wonderful miracle he performed at Rouen?"
+
+A cloud of surprise intermingled with contempt darkened Leigh's
+intellectual brows.
+
+"Never!" he said emphatically, "I should not have thought so much of
+him if he had laid any claim to such a pretence!"
+
+Gherardi laughed again softly.
+
+"What a pity," he observed, "What a pity you clever heretics are so
+violent! You think the power of the Church is a decaying one, and that
+our Lord has ceased to supply its ministers with the Spirit of Grace
+and the powers of healing? But this is where you are mistaken! The
+Church--the Roman Church--remains as it always was and always will be;
+impregnable!--the source of inspiration, the seat of miracle, the only
+clue and road to everlasting life! And as for its power--" here he
+closed his hand and dropped it on the table with a silent force which
+was strangely expressive, "its power is immeasurable! It reaches out in
+every direction--it grasps--it holds,--it keeps! Why will you and your
+co-workers 'kick' like St. Paul 'against the pricks'? It is quite
+useless! The Church is too strong for any one of you--aye, and for any
+army of you! Do you not hear the divine Voice from heaven calling daily
+in your ears, 'Why persecutest thou Me?'"
+
+"Yes," answered Aubrey deliberately, "I hear that every time I enter a
+church! I hear it every time I see an ordained priest or minister of
+the Gospel misusing his time in construing to his own purposes the
+classic simplicity of Christ's doctrine. In some places of worship,
+such as the tawdry church of the 'Annunziata' in Florence that protest
+seems to reach its climax. When one sees the unwashen priests
+expectorating every five minutes or so [Footnote: A fact] on the very
+altars where they perform Mass;--when one notes the dirt, the neglect,
+the gim-crackery;--the sickening and barbarous superstition everywhere
+offered as being representative of sublime Deity,--the Force which has
+raised the heaven above us with its endless star-patterns of living
+universe,--then the cry of 'Why persecutest thou Me?' seems to roll
+through the arches like the thunder which sometimes precedes a general
+earthquake!"
+
+Leigh's clear penetrating voice, artistically modulated to the
+perfectly musical expression of thought, was not without its usual
+effect, even on a mind so callous as that of Gherardi. He moved
+uneasily in his chair,--he was inwardly fuming with indignation, and
+for one moment was inclined to assume the melodramatic pose of the
+irate Churchman, and to make himself into the figure of an approved
+"stage" dignitary of religion, with out stretched arm, menacing eyes,
+and words that were as darts to wound and sting. But looking under his
+eye lids at the cold, half satirical tranquillity of Aubrey's pale
+clear-cut features, he felt that any attempt at "acting" his part would
+be seen through in a second by a man who was so terribly in earnest. So
+with a benevolent and regretful air, he said,
+
+"Yes!--no doubt things appear to you as they do not appear to us. The
+spirit of faith enables us to see through all unsatisfactory outward
+forms and ceremonies, to the actual divine mysteries which they
+symbolise;--and heretics perceive incongruities, where we, by the grace
+of God, see nothing but harmony! And though you, Mr. Leigh, receive the
+information with incredulity and a somewhat blameable indifference, it
+is a matter of rejoicing to us that Cardinal Bonpre has performed this
+miracle of healing at Rouen. It would have raised him to a very high
+place indeed in the Holy Father's estimation, had it not been for the
+strange mistake he has unfortunately made with respect to the Abbe
+Vergniaud."
+
+"One may cure a sick person then, but one must not pardon a sinner?"
+suggested Aubrey, "'For whether is it easier to say, Thy sins be
+forgiven thee;' or 'Arise and walk?' The one is considered a
+miracle;--the other a mistake!"
+
+Gherardi's cold eyes glittered.
+
+"We will not go into the technicalities of the question," he said
+frigidly, "We will return to the point from whence we diverged. Your
+wish expressed in this letter," and he drew one from a packet on the
+table and glanced it over in a business-like way, "was to obtain a
+private audience from the Pope. I repeat that to a mere civilian and
+socialistic writer like yourself, that is impossible!"
+
+Aubrey sat unmoved.
+
+"I suppose if I were a prince of the blood-royal I should not be
+refused an audience?" he said.
+
+Gherardi's thick dark eyebrows went up with a movement of surprise at
+such an irrational remark.
+
+"That would make a difference certainly," he answered smiling, "The
+claims of diplomacy have to be considered!"
+
+"If a prince of the blood-royal whose private life was a scandal to the
+world"--went on Aubrey, "who was guilty of every vice known in the
+calendar,--who was neither intelligent nor sympathetic,--whose whole
+career was one of self and self-indulgence,--I say if he were to seek a
+private audience of the man who is declared to be the representative of
+Christ in Christendom, he would obtain it! On the other hand, if a man
+who had denied himself every personal gratification, and had sacrificed
+his whole life in working for his fellow men, and to the following of
+the teachings of the Gospel as far as it was possible,--but who yet had
+got no further in world's wealth than to be earning from his writings a
+few hundreds a year, he could NOT be received! Monsignor, this may be
+diplomacy, but it is not Christianity!"
+
+"I cannot enter into these matters with you--" began Gherardi
+impatiently.
+
+"No, you cannot, because you dare not!" said Aubrey boldly. "Man, you
+are not a Christian! Why pretend to be one? Is it not time you left off
+feigning what you do not feel? Is it not preposterous that you, at your
+years, should consent to make your life a lie in the face of
+Omnipresent Deity?"
+
+Gherardi rose up pale and trembling.
+
+"Mr. Leigh, if you have come here to insult me--"
+
+"Insult you!" echoed Aubrey, "Not I! I would make a man of you if I
+could,--but that is too late! You are a witness of imposture and a
+supporter of it,--and we are none of us worthy to be called men if we
+do either of these two things. You know as well as I do, that there is
+no representative of the blameless Christ at the Vatican,--you know
+there is only a poor weak old man, whose mind is swayed by the crafty
+counsels of the self-seeking flatterers around him, and who passes his
+leisure hours in counting up money, and inventing new means of gaining
+it through forms of things that should be spiritual and divine. If you
+BELIEVE Christ was God Incarnate, how dare you tamper with such a
+Supernal Mystery?"
+
+Gherardi turned his head slowly and looked round at Aubrey,--then
+recovering his composure, sat down and pretended to turn over some
+documents on the table, but Aubrey went on undeterred by his aspect of
+frigidity, "How dare you, I say? The God in Man! Do you realize the
+stupendous meaning of such a phrase? Do you not see that it means A
+DIVINE LIFE PALPITATING THROUGH EVERY ATOM OF CREATION? A Force so
+great, so pure and majestic, so absolute in Its working for good, and
+yet so deliberate in Its movements that It will give Its creature Man
+whole centuries of chance to find and save his own soul before utterly
+destroying him? What has this sublime Power in common with the Pope,
+who shuts himself up in his palace, a voluntary prisoner, all forsooth
+because he is denied temporal power! Temporal power! What is temporal
+power compared to spiritual power! If he were the true representative
+of Christ he would move the world by deeds of benevolence, goodness,
+and sanctity! In such a case as that of the unhappy Dreyfus for
+instance, he would have issued a solemn warning and earnest reproach to
+the French nation for their misguided cruelty;--he would have travelled
+himself to Rennes to use his personal influence in obtaining an
+innocent man's release with honour! That would have been Christian!
+That would have been a magnificent example to the world! But what did
+he do? Shut comfortably up in his luxurious palace where no harm could
+touch him, where no crucifixion of the heart or soul could torture him,
+he announced to his myrmidons his opinion that the wretched martyr
+would be found guilty! And who can tell but that his utterance thus
+unchristianly proclaimed did not help to sway the minds of the Rennes
+Court-martial? Again, why are there so many poor in Italy? If the Pope
+were the father indeed of those who are immediately around him, the
+land should be like the fabled Paradise, flowing with milk and honey.
+The Vatican is full of money and jewels. 'Sell half that thou hast and
+give to the poor,' was the command of Christ.--Does the Pope do that?
+Why does he not go out among the people and work in active sympathy
+with them? Christ did so! Christ was never borne with solemn flourish
+of trumpets like a mummy in a chair, under canopies of cloth of gold,
+to give a blessing to a crowd who had got admission to see him by paid
+ticket! Man, man! The theatrical jugglery of Rome is a blasphemy in the
+sight of heaven;--and most truly did St. John declare this city,
+throned on its seven hills, to be, 'MYSTERY, THE MOTHER OF HARLOTS AND
+ABOMINATIONS OF THE EARTH.' And most clearly does God say at this
+period of our time, 'Come out of her My people, that ye be not
+partakers of her sins, and that ye receive not of her plagues. For her
+sins have reached unto heaven, and God hath remembered her iniquities!'
+The days of evil are drawing to an end; Rome must fall!"
+
+Gherardi's breath came and went quickly,--but he kept up the outward
+appearance of cold composure.
+
+"You rant very well, Mr. Leigh!" he said, "You would make an excellent
+Hyde Park orator! You have all the qualities which attract the vulgar;
+but we--we of the Church know quite well how to deal with men of your
+class,--their denunciations do not affect us at all. They amuse us
+occasionally; and sometimes they pain us, for naturally we grieve for
+the backslidings of refractory brethren. We regret the clamourings of
+ignorance which arise from a strong personal desire for notoriety. That
+passage in the Revelation of St. John, has been quoted scores of times
+as being applicable to Rome, though as a matter of fact it distinctly
+mentions Babylon." Here he smiled suavely. "And thanks to the workings
+of an All-wise Influence, Rome was never more powerful than she is at
+the present moment. Her ramifications are everywhere; and in England
+she has obtained a firm footing. Your good English Queen has never
+uttered one word of reproach against the spread of our Holy Religion
+among her subjects! Our prayers for the conversion of England will yet
+be granted!"
+
+"Not while I live!" said Aubrey firmly, "Not while I can hold back but
+a handful from such a disaster, and that handful shall hold back yet
+another handful! The hand of Roman priestcraft shall never weigh on
+England while there are any honest men left in it! The conversion of
+England! The retrogression of England! Do you think such a thing is
+likely to happen because a few misguided clerics choose to appeal to
+the silly sentimentality of hysterical women with such church tricks
+and rags of paganism as incense and candles! Bah! Do not judge the
+English inward heart by its small outward follies, Monsignor! There are
+more honest, brave, and sensible folk in the British Islands than you
+think. And though our foreign foes desire our fall, the seed of THEIR
+decay is not yet in us!"
+
+
+
+
+XXI.
+
+Gherardi sat for two or three minutes in absolute silence. Only the
+twitching of his eyelids and a slight throbbing in the muscles of his
+throat showed with what difficulty he suppressed his rising fury. But
+his astute and crafty powers of reasoning taught him that it would be
+worse than ridiculous to give way to anger in the presence of this
+cool, determined man, who, though he spoke with a passion which from
+its very force seemed almost to sound like "the mighty wind" which
+accompanied the cloven tongues of fire at the first Pentecost, still
+maintained his personal calm,--that immovable calmness which is always
+the result of strong inward conviction. A dangerous man!--yes, there
+was no doubt of that! He was one of those concerning whom Emerson
+wrote, "let the world beware when a Thinker comes into it." Aubrey
+Leigh was a thinker,--and more than that, he was a doer. He was of the
+strong heroic type of genius that turns its dreams into facts, its
+thoughts into deeds. He did not talk, in common with so many men, of
+what they considered OUGHT to be done, without exerting themselves to
+DO it;--he was sincerely in earnest, and cared nothing for any personal
+loss or inconvenience he might suffer from carrying out his intentions.
+And Gherardi saw that there was little or no possibility of moving such
+a man from the firm ground of truth which he had elected to stand on.
+There is nothing so inconvenient in this world as an absolutely
+truthful person, who can both speak and write, and has the courage of
+his convictions. One can always arrange matters with liars, because
+they, being hampered by their own deceits, are compelled to study ways,
+means, and chances for appearing honest. But with the man or woman who
+holds truth dearer than life, and honour more valuable than
+advancement, there is nothing to be done, now that governments cannot
+insist on the hemlock-cure, as in the case of Socrates. Gherardi,
+looking furtively under his eyelids at Leigh's strong lithe figure, and
+classic head, felt he could have willingly poisoned or stabbed him. For
+there were, and ARE great interests at stake in the so-called
+"conversion of England,"--it is truly one of the largest financial
+schemes ever set afloat in the world, if those whose duty it is to
+influence and control events could only be brought to see the practical
+side of the matter, and set a check on its advancement before it is too
+late. Gherardi knew what great opportunities there were in embryo of
+making large fortunes;--and not only of making large fortunes but of
+obtaining incredible power. There was a great plan afoot of drawing
+American and English wealth into the big Church-net through the medium
+of superstitious fear and sentimental bigotry,--and an opposer and
+enemy like Aubrey Leigh, physically handsome, with such powers of
+oratory as are only granted to the very few, was capable of influencing
+women as well as men--and women, as Gherardi well recognised, are the
+chief supporters of the Papal system. Uneasily he thought of a certain
+wealthy American heiress whom he had persuaded into thinking herself
+specially favoured and watched over by the Virgin Mary, and who,
+overcome by the strong imaginary consciousness of this heavenly
+protection, had signed away in her will a million of pounds sterling to
+a particular "shrine" in which he had the largest share of financial
+profit. Now, suppose she should chance to come within the radius of
+Leigh's attractive personality and teaching, and revoke this bequest?
+Deeply incensed he sat considering, yet he was conscious enough of his
+own impotency to persuade or move this man a jot.
+
+"I am very sorry," he said at last without raising his eyes, and
+carefully preserving an equable and mild tone of voice, "I am sorry you
+are so harsh in your judgments, Mr. Leigh;--and still more sorry that
+you appear to be bent on opposing the Roman Catholic movement in
+England. I will do you the justice to believe that you are moved by a
+sincere though erroneous conviction,--and it is out of pure kindness
+and interest in you that I warn you how useless you will find the task
+in which you have engaged. The force of Rome is impregnable!--the
+interpretation of the Gospel by the Pope infallible. Any man, no matter
+how gifted with eloquence, or moved by what he imagines to be
+truth-(and alas! how often error is mistaken for truth and truth for
+error!)--must be crushed in the endeavour to cope with such a divinely
+ordained power."
+
+"The Car of Juggernaut was considered to be divinely ordained," said
+Aubrey, "And the wretched and ignorant populace flung themselves under
+it in the fit of hysterical mania to which they were excited by the
+priests of the god, and so perished in their thousands. Not THEY were
+to blame; but the men who invented the imposture and encouraged the
+slaughter. THEY had an ideal;--the priests had none! But Juggernaut had
+its end--and so will Rome!"
+
+"You call yourself a Christian?" asked Gherardi, with a touch of
+derision.
+
+"Most assuredly I do," replied Aubrey, "Most assuredly I am! I love and
+honour Christ with every fibre of my being. I long to see that Divine
+Splendour of the ages stand out white and shining and free from the mud
+and slime with which His priests have bespattered Him. I believe in Him
+absolutely! But I can find nowhere in His Gospel that He wished us to
+turn Religion into a sort of stock-jobbing company managed by
+sacerdotal directors in Rome!"
+
+"What do you know about the 'sacerdotal directors' as you call them, of
+Rome?" asked Gherardi slowly, his eyes narrowing at the corners, and
+his whole countenance expressing ineffable disdain, "Do you think we
+give out the complex and necessary workings of our sacred business to
+the uneducated public?"
+
+"No, I do not," replied Aubrey, "For you keep the public in the dark as
+much as you can. Your methods of action are precisely those of the
+priests of ancient Egypt, who juggled with what they were pleased to
+call their sacred 'mysteries' in precisely the same way as you do. Race
+copies race. Roman Christianity is grafted upon Roman Paganism. When
+the Apostles were all dead, and their successors (who had never been in
+personal touch with Christ) came on to the scene of action, they
+discovered that the people of Rome would not do without the worship of
+woman in their creed, so they cleverly substituted the Virgin Mary for
+Venus and Diana. They turned the statues of gods and heroes into
+figures of Apostles and Saints. They knew it would be unwise to deprive
+the populace of what they had been so long accustomed to, and therefore
+they left them their swinging censers, their gold chalices, and their
+symbolic candles. Thus it is that Roman Catholicism became, and is
+still, merely a Christian form of Paganism which is made to pay
+successfully, just as the feasts and Saturnalia of ancient days were
+made to pay as spectacular and theatrical pastimes. I should not blame
+your Church if it declared itself to be an offshoot of Paganism at
+once,--Paganism, or any other form of faith, deserves respect as long
+as its priests and followers are sincere; but when their belief is a
+mere pretence, and their system degenerates into a scheme of making
+money out of the fond faiths of the ignorant, then I consider it is
+time to protest against such blasphemy in the presence of God and all
+things divine and spiritual!"
+
+Gherardi had listened to these words very quietly, his countenance
+gradually relaxing and smoothing into an amiable expression of
+forbearance. He looked up now at Aubrey with a smile that was almost
+benignant.
+
+"You are quite right, Mr. Leigh!" he said gently, "I begin to
+understand you now! I see that you have studied deeply, and you have
+thought still more. If you will continue your studies and your thinking
+also, you will see how difficult it is for us to move as rapidly with
+the times as you would have us do. You must remember that it would be
+quite possible for Holy Mother Church to rise at once to the high
+scientific and psychical position you wish her to adopt, if it were not
+for the mass of the ignorant, with whom one must have patience! You are
+a man in the prime of life--you are zealous--eager for
+improvement,--yes!--all that is very admirable and praiseworthy. But
+you forget the numerous and widely differing interests with which we of
+the Church have to deal. For the great majority of persons it would be
+useless, for example, to give them lessons on the majesty of God's work
+in the science of Astronomy. They would be confused, bewildered, and
+more or less frightened out of faith altogether. They must have
+something tangible to cling to--for instance,"--and he pressed the tips
+of his fingers delicately together, "there are grades of intelligence
+just as there are grades of creation; you cannot instruct a caterpillar
+as you instruct a man. Now there are many human beings who are of the
+caterpillar quality of brain--what are you to do with them? They would
+not understand God as manifested in the solar system, but they would
+try to please some favourite Saint by good conduct. Is it not better
+that they should believe in the Saint than in nothing?"
+
+"I cannot think it well for anyone to believe in a lie," said Aubrey
+slowly, taken aback despite himself by Gherardi's sudden gentleness,
+"There is a magnificent simplicity in truth;--truth which, the more it
+is tested, the truer it proves. Where is there any necessity of
+falsehood? Surely the marvels of nature could be explained with as much
+ease as the supposed miracles of a Saint?"
+
+"I doubt it!" answered Gherardi smiling, "You must admit, my dear sir,
+that our scientific men are a great deal too abstruse for the
+majority;--in some cases they are almost too abstruse for themselves!
+You spoke just now of the priests of Egypt;--the oracles of Memphis
+were clear reading compared to the involved sentences of some of our
+modern scientists! Scientific books are hard nuts to crack even for the
+highly educated; but for the uneducated, believe me, the personality of
+a Saint is much more consoling than the movements of a star. Besides,
+Humanity must have something human to love and to revere. The infinite
+gradations of the Mind of God through Matter, appeal to none but those
+of the very highest intellectual capability."
+
+Aubrey was silent a moment, then he said,
+
+"But even the most ignorant can understand Christ,--Christ as He
+revealed Himself to the world in perfect beauty and simplicity as 'a
+Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.' There needs no Vatican, no
+idolatry of the Pope, no superstitious images, no shrines of healing
+and reliquaries to explain His sublime intention!"
+
+"I am afraid, Mr. Leigh, you entertain a very optimistic view of
+mankind," said Gherardi, "Unfortunately Christ is not enough for many
+people. Christ was an Incarnation of God, and though He became Man he
+'knew not sin.' He therefore stands apart; an Example, but not a
+Companion. There are a certain class of sinners who like to think of
+Saints;--human beings constituted like themselves, who have committed
+errors, even crimes, and repented of them. This is a similar spirit to
+that of the child who catches hold of any convenient support he can
+find to guide his first tottering steps across the floor to his
+mother,-the Saint helps the feeble-footed folk to totter their way
+towards Christ. I assure you, our Church considers everything that is
+necessary for the welfare of its weakest brethren."
+
+"Yes,--I grant you that it is full of subtle means for approaching and
+commanding the ignorant," said Aubrey. "But to the intellectual forces
+it offers no progress."
+
+"The intellectual forces can clear their own way!" declared Gherardi,
+rising to his full imposing height, and beaming sovereign benevolence
+on his visitor, "and can, if they choose, make their own Church. This
+is the age of freedom, and no restraint is placed on the action of the
+intellectually free. But the ignorant must always form the majority;
+and in their ignorance and helplessness, will do wisely to remain like
+obedient children under the sway of Rome!"
+
+Aubrey rose also, and could not forbear an involuntary glance of
+reluctant admiration at the stately figure and commanding attitude of
+the man who confronted him with such a pride in the persistent
+Jesuitical conviction that even a Lie may be used in religion for the
+furtherance of conversion to the Truth.
+
+"I do not see," Gherardi went on, smiling blandly, "why after all, you
+should not be received by the Holy Father. I will try to arrange it for
+you. But it would avail you very little, I imagine, as he is not
+strong, and would not be capable of conversing with you for more than a
+few minutes. I think it would serve your purpose much more to carefully
+study the movements, and the work of what you call 'the stock-jobbing
+company of sacerdotal directors,'" and here his smile became still more
+broadly benevolent, "and take note of their divisions and subdivisions
+of influence which extend from the very poorest and most abandoned to
+the very highest and most cultured. You will then understand why I
+maintain that Rome as a power is impregnable;--and why some of the more
+far-sighted and prophetic among us look upon the Conversion of England
+as an almost accomplished fact!"
+
+Aubrey smiled; but he was not without the consciousness that from his
+own particular point of view Gherardi had some excuse for his belief.
+
+"According to your own written opinions," went on Gherardi, "for I have
+read your books,--the Church of England is in a bad way. Its
+Ritualistic form is very nearly Roman. Some of your Archbishops confess
+to a liking for incense! You admit that the stricter forms of
+Protestantism do not comfort the sick soul in times of need; well, what
+would you Socialists and Freethinkers have? Would you do without a
+Church altogether?"
+
+"No," said Aubrey quickly, "But we would have a purified Church,--a
+House of Praise to God--without any superstition or dogma."
+
+"You must have dogma," said Gherardi complacently, "You must formulate
+something out of a chaos of opinion. As for superstition, you will
+never get rid of that weakness out of the human composition. If the
+Church gives nothing for this particular mood of man to feed on, man
+will invent something else OUTSIDE the Church. My dear sir, we have
+thought of all these difficulties for ages! In religion one cannot
+appeal solely to the intellect. One must touch the heart--the emotions.
+Music, painting, colour, spectacle, all these are permitted us to use
+for the good purpose of lifting the soul of a sinner to contemplate
+something better than himself. Women and little children enter the
+Church as well as men,--would you have THEM find no comfort? Must a
+woman with a broken heart take her sorrows to the vast Silence of an
+unreasonable God among universes of star systems? Or shall she find
+hope, and a gleam of comfort in a prayer to a woman of the same clay as
+herself in the person of the Virgin Mary? And remember, there is
+something very beautiful in the symbol of the Virgin as applied to
+womanhood! The Mother of God! Does it not suggest to your poetical mind
+that woman is destined always to be the Mother of the God?--that is,
+mother of the perfect man when that desirable consummation shall be
+accomplished?"
+
+"I have never doubted it.'" said Aubrey, "The Mother of Christ is to me
+a symbol of womanhood for all time!" Gherardi smiled.
+
+"Good! Then in spite of your denunciations you come very near to our
+faith'"
+
+"I never denied the beauty, romance, or mysticism of the Roman Catholic
+Faith," said Aubrey, "If it were purified from the accumulated
+superstition of ages, and freed from intolerance and bigotry, it would
+perhaps be the grandest form of Christianity in the world. But the rats
+are in the house, and the rooms want cleaning!"
+
+"In every house there are those rats--in every room there is dirt!"
+said Gherardi, "Presuming that you speak in a moral sense. What of your
+Houses of Parliament? What of the French Senate? What of the Reichstag?
+What of the Russian Autocracy?--the American Republic? In every quarter
+the rats squeal, and the dirt gathers! The Church of Rome is purity
+itself compared to your temporal governments! My dear sir," and
+approaching, he laid a kindly hand on Aubrey's arm, "I would not be
+harsh with you for the world! I understand your nature perfectly. It is
+full of enthusiasm and zeal for righteousness,--your heart warms to the
+sorrows of the human race,--you would lift up the whole world to God's
+footstool; you would console--you would be a benefactor--you would
+elevate, purify, rejuvenate, inspire! Yes! This is a grand mood--one
+which has fired many a would-be reformer before you,--but you forget!
+It is not the Church against which you should arm yourself--it is the
+human race! It is not one or many religious systems with which you
+should set yourself to contend--it is the blind brutishness of
+humanity!" As he spoke, his tall form appeared to tower to an even
+greater height,--his eyes flashed, and the intellectual pride and force
+of his character became apparent in every feature of his face. "If
+humanity in the mass asked us for Christ only; if men and women would
+deny themselves the petty personal aim, the low vice, the crawling
+desire to ingratiate themselves with Heaven, the Pharisaical
+affectation of virtue--if they would themselves stand clear of 'vain
+repetition' and obstinate egoism, and would of themselves live purely,
+the Church would be pure! May I venture to suggest to you that men make
+the Church, not the Church the men? We try to supply the spiritual
+needs of the human being, such as his spiritual needs at present
+are,--when he demands more we will give him more. At present his needs
+are purely personal, and therefore low and tainted with
+sensuality,--yet we drag him along through these emotions as near to
+the blameless Christ as we can. When he is impersonal enough, unselfish
+enough, loyal-hearted enough, to stand face to face with the glorious
+manifestation of the Deity unaided, we can cast away his props, such as
+superstitious observances, Saints and the like, and leave him,--but
+then the Millennium will have come, and there will be new heavens and a
+new earth!"
+
+He spoke well, with force and fervour, and Aubrey Leigh was for a
+moment impressed. After a slight pause however, he said,
+
+"You admit the ignorance of human beings, and yet--you would keep them
+ignorant?"
+
+"Keep them ignorant!" Gherardi laughed lightly. "That is more than any
+of us can do nowadays! Every liberty is afforded them to learn,--and if
+they still remain barbarous it is because they elect to be so. But OUR
+duty is to look after the ignorant more than the cultured! Quite true
+it is that the Pope lost a magnificent opportunity in the Dreyfus
+affair,--if he had spoken in favour of mercy and justice he would have
+won thousands of followers; being silent he has lost thousands. But
+this should be a great satisfaction to you, Mr. Leigh! For if the Holy
+Father had given an example to the Catholic clergy to act in the true
+Christian spirit towards Dreyfus, the Conversion of England might have
+been so grafted on enthusiastic impulse as to be a much nearer
+possibility than it is now!"
+
+Aubrey was silent.
+
+"Now, Mr. Leigh, I think you have gained sufficient insight into my
+views to judge me with perhaps greater favour than you were inclined to
+do at the beginning of our interview," continued Gherardi, "I assure
+you that I shall watch your career with the greatest interest! You have
+embarked in a most hopeless cause,--you will try to help the helpless,
+and as soon as they are rescued out of trouble, they will turn and rend
+you,--you will try to teach them the inner mysteries of God's working,
+and they will say you are possessed of a devil! You will endeavour to
+upset shams and hypocrisies, and the men of your press will write you
+down and say you are seeking advertisement and notoriety for yourself.
+Was there ever a great thinker left unmartyred? Or a great writer that
+has not been misunderstood and condemned? You wish to help and serve
+humanity! Enthusiast! You would do far better to help and serve the
+Church! For the Church rewards; humanity has cursed and killed every
+great benefactor it ever had INCLUDING CHRIST!"
+
+The terrible words beat on Aubrey's ears like the brazen clang of a
+tocsin, for he knew they were true. But he held his ground.
+
+"There are worse things than death," he said simply.
+
+Gherardi smiled kindly.
+
+"And there are worse things than life!" he said,
+
+"Life holds a good many harmless enjoyments, which I am afraid you are
+putting away from you in your prime, for the sake of a mere chimera.
+But--after all, what does it matter! One must have a hobby! Some men
+like horse-racing, others book-collecting,--others pictures,--and so
+forth--you like the religious question! Well, no doubt it affords you a
+great many opportunities of studying character. I shall be very
+happy--" here he extended his hand cordially, "to show you anything
+that may be of interest to you in Rome, and to present you to any of
+our brethren that may assist you in your researches. I can give you a
+letter to Rampolla--"
+
+Aubrey declined the offered introduction with a decided negative shake
+of his head.
+
+"No," he said, "I know Cardinal Bonpre; that is enough!"
+
+"But there is a great difference between Rampolla and Bonpre," said
+Gherardi, with twinkling eyes, "Bonpre is scarcely ever in Rome. He
+lives a life apart--and has for a long while been considered as a kind
+of saint from the privacy and austerity of his life. But he has
+heralded his arrival in the Eternal City triumphantly--by the
+performance of a miracle! What do you say to this?--you who would do
+away with things miraculous?"
+
+"I say nothing till I hear," answered Aubrey, "I must know what the
+nature of the so-called miracle is. I am a believer in soul-forces, and
+in the exhalation of spiritual qualities affecting or influencing
+others: but in this there is no miracle, it is simply natural law."
+
+"Well, you must interview the Cardinal yourself," said Gherardi
+indulgently, "and tell me afterwards what you think about it, if indeed
+you think anything. But you will not find him at home this morning. He
+is summoned to the Vatican."
+
+"On account of the miracle?--or the scandal affecting the Abbe
+Vergniaud?" asked Aubrey.
+
+"Both matters are under discussion, I believe," replied Gherardi
+evasively, "But they are not in my province. Now, can I be of any
+further service to you, Mr. Leigh?"
+
+"No. I am sorry to have taken up so much of your time," said Aubrey,
+"But I think I understand your views--"
+
+"I hope you do," interrupted Gherardi, "And that you will by and by
+grasp the fact that my views are shared by almost everyone holding any
+Church authority. But you must go about in Rome, and make enquiries for
+yourself . . . now, let me see! Do you know the Princesse D'Agramont?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Oh, you must know her,--she is a great friend of Donna Sovrani's, and
+a witty and brilliant personage in herself. She is rather of your way
+of thinking, and so is out of favour with the Church. But that will not
+matter to you; and you will meet all the dissatisfied and enthusiastic
+of the earth in her salons! I will tell her to send you a card."
+
+Aubrey said something by way of formal acknowledgment, and then took
+his leave. He was singularly depressed, and his face, always quick to
+show traces of thought, had somewhat lost its former expression of
+eager animation. The wily Gherardi had for the time so influenced his
+sensitive mind as to set it almost to the tune of the most despairing
+of Tennyson's "Two Voices",
+
+ "A life of nothings, nothing worth,
+ From that first nothing ere his birth,
+ To that last nothing under earth."
+
+What was the use of trying to expound a truth, if the majority
+preferred a lie?
+
+ "Will one bright beam be less intense,
+ When thy peculiar difference
+ Is cancelled in the world of sense?"
+
+And Gherardi noted the indefinable touch of fatigue that gave the
+slight droop of the shoulders and air of languor to the otherwise
+straight slim figure as it passed from his presence,--and smiled. He
+had succeeded in putting a check on unselfish ardour, and had thrown a
+doubt into the pure intention of enthusiastic toil. That was enough for
+the present. And scarcely had Aubrey crossed the threshold--scarcely
+had the echo of his departing footsteps died away--when a heavy velvet
+curtain in the apartment was cautiously thrust aside, and Monsignor
+Moretti stepped out of a recess behind it, with a dignity and composure
+which would have been impossible to any but an Italian priest convicted
+of playing the spy. Gherardi faced him confidently.
+
+"Well?" he said, with a more exhaustive enquiry expressed in his look
+than in the simple ejaculation.
+
+"Well!" echoed Moretti, as he slowly advanced into the centre of the
+room, "You have not done as much as I expected you would. Your
+arguments were clever, but not--to a man of his obstinacy, convincing."
+
+And sitting down, he turned his dark face and gleaming eyes full on his
+confrere, who with a shrug of his massive shoulders expressed in his
+attitude a disdainful relinquishment of the whole business.
+
+"You have not," pursued Moretti deliberately, "grasped anything like
+the extent of this man Leigh's determination and indifference to
+results. Please mark that last clause,--indifference to results. He is
+apparently alone in the world,--he seems to have nothing to lose, and
+no one to care whether he succeeds or fails;--a most dangerous form of
+independence! And in his persistence and eloquence he is actually
+stopping--yes, I repeat it,--stopping and putting a serious check on
+the advancement of the Roman Catholic party. And of course any check
+just now means to us a serious financial loss both in England and
+America,--a deficit in Vatican revenues which will very gravely
+incommode certain necessary measures now under the consideration of His
+Holiness. I expected you to grasp the man and hold him,--not by
+intimidation but by flattery."
+
+"You think he is to be caught by so common a bait?" said Gherardi,
+"Bah! He would see through it at once!"
+
+"Maybe!" replied Moretti, "But perhaps not if it were administered in
+the way I mean. You seem to have forgotten the chief influence of any
+that can be brought to bear upon the heart and mind of a man,--and that
+is, Woman."
+
+Gherardi laughed outright.
+
+"Upon my word I think it would be difficult to find the woman suited to
+this case!" he said. "But you who have a diplomacy deeper than that of
+any Jew usurer may possibly have one already in view?"
+
+"There is now in Rome," pursued Moretti, speaking with the same even
+deliberation of accent, "a faithful daughter of the Church, whose
+wealth we can to a certain extent command, and whose charm is
+unquestionable,--the Comtesse Sylvie Hermenstein--"
+
+Gherardi started. Moretti eyed him coldly.
+
+"You are not stricken surely by the childlike fascination with which
+this princess of coquettes rules her court?" he enquired sarcastically.
+
+"I?" echoed Gherardi, shifting his position so that Moretti's gaze
+could not fall so directly upon him. "I? You jest!"
+
+"I think not!" said Moretti, "I think I know something about
+women--their capabilities, their passions, their different grades of
+power. Sylvie Hermenstein possesses a potent charm which few men can
+resist, and I should not wonder if you yourself had been occasionally
+conscious of it. She is one of those concerning whom other women say
+'they can see nothing in her'. Ah!" and Moretti smiled darkly, "What a
+compliment that is from the majority of women to one! This woman Sylvie
+is unique. Where is her beauty? You cannot say--yet beauty is her very
+essence. She cannot boast perfection of features,--she is frequently
+hidden away altogether in a room and scarcely noticed. And so she
+reminds me of a certain flower known to the Eastern nations, which is
+difficult to find, because so fragile and small that it can scarcely be
+seen, but when it is found, and the scent of it unwittingly inhaled, it
+drives men mad!"
+
+Gherardi looked at him with a broadly wondering smile.
+
+"You speak so eloquently," he said, "that one would almost fancy--"
+
+"Fancy nothing!" retorted Moretti quickly, "Fancy and I are as far
+apart as the poles, except in the putting together of words, in which
+easy art I daresay I am as great an adept as Florian Varillo, who can
+write verses on love or patriotism to order, without experiencing a
+touch of either emotion. What a humbug by the way, that fellow is!--"
+and Moretti broke off to consider this new point--"He rants of the
+honour of Italy, and would not let his finger ache for her cause! And
+he professes to love the 'Sovrani' while all Rome knows that Pon-Pon is
+his mistress!"
+
+Gherardi wisely held his peace.
+
+"The Comtesse Sylvie Hermenstein is the little magic flower you must
+use;" resumed Moretti, emphasising his words with an authoritative
+movement of his hand, "Use her to madden Aubrey Leigh. Bring them
+together;--he will lose his head as surely as all men do when they come
+under the influence of that soft deep-eyed creature, with the full
+white breast of a dove, and the smile of an angel,--and remember, it
+would be an excellent thing for the Church if he could be persuaded to
+marry her,--there would be no more preaching then!--for the thoughts of
+love would outweigh the theories of religion."
+
+"You think it?" queried Gherardi dubiously.
+
+"I know it!" replied Moretti rising, and preparing to take his
+departure, "But,--play the game cautiously! Make no false move.
+For--understand me well, this man Leigh must be silenced, or we shall
+lose England!"
+
+And with these last words he turned abruptly on his heel and left the
+apartment.
+
+
+
+
+XXII.
+
+Cardinal Felix Bonpre sat alone in the largest and loneliest room of
+the large and lonely suite of rooms allotted to him in the Palazzo
+Sovrani,--alone at a massive writing table near the window, his head
+resting on one hand, and his whole figure expressive of the most
+profound dejection. In front of him an ancient silver crucifix gleamed
+in the flicker of the small wood fire which had been kindled in the
+wide cavernous chimney--and a black-bound copy of the Gospels lay open
+as if but lately consulted. The faded splendour of certain gold
+embroidered hangings on the walls added to the solemn and melancholy
+aspect of the apartment, and the figure of the venerable prelate seen
+in such darkening gloom and solitude, was the crowning completion of an
+expressive and pathetic picture of patient desolation. So might a
+martyr of the Inquisition have looked while the flames were getting
+ready to burn him for the love of the gentle Saviour; and something of
+the temper of such a possible predecessor was in the physically frail
+old man, who just now was concentrating all the energies of his mind on
+the consideration of a difficult question which is often asked by many
+hearts in secret, but is seldom voiced to the public ear;--"Christ or
+the Church? Which must I follow to be an honest man?"
+
+Never had the good Cardinal been in such a strange predicament. Living
+away from the great centres of thought and action, he had followed a
+gentle and placid course of existence, almost unruffled, save by the
+outside murmurs of a growing public discontent which had reached him
+through the medium of current literature, and had given him cause to
+think uneasily of possible disaster for the religious world in the near
+future,--but he had never gone so far as to imagine that the Head of
+the Church would, while being perfectly conscious of existing
+threatening evils, deliberately turn his back to appeals for
+help,--shut his ears to the cry of the "lost sheep of the House of
+Israel", and even endeavour, with an impotence of indignation which was
+as pitiable as useless, to shake a rod of Twelfth-century menace over
+the advancement of the Twentieth!
+
+"For the onward movement of Humanity is God's work," said the Cardinal,
+"And what are we--what is even the Church--when it does not move side
+by side in perfect and pure harmony with the order of Divine Law?"
+
+And he was bitterly troubled in spirit. He had spent the whole morning
+at the Vatican, and the manner of his reception there had been so
+curiously divided between flattery and reproach that he had not known
+what to make of it. The Pope had been tetchy and querulous,--precisely
+in such a humour as one naturally expects so aged a man to be when
+contradicted on any matter, whether trivial or important. For with such
+advanced years the faculties are often as brittle as the bones, and the
+failing powers of the brain are often brought to bear with more
+concentration on inconsiderable trifles than on the large and important
+affairs of life. He had questioned the Cardinal closely concerning the
+miraculous cure performed at Rouen, and had become excessively angry
+when the honest prelate earnestly disclaimed all knowledge of it. He
+had then confronted him with Claude Cazeau, the secretary of the
+Archbishop of Rouen, and Cazeau had given a clear and concise account
+of the whole matter, stating that the child, Fabien Doucet, had been
+known in Rouen since his babyhood as a helpless cripple, and that after
+Cardinal Bonpre had prayed over him and laid hands on him, he had been
+miraculously cured, and was now to be seen running about the city as
+strong and straight as any other healthy child. And Bonpre listened
+patiently;--and to all that was said, merely reiterated that if the
+child WERE so cured, then it was by the special intervention of God, as
+he personally had done no more than pray for his restoration. But to
+his infinite amazement and distress he saw plainly that the Holy Father
+did not believe him. He saw that he was suspected of playing a
+trick,--a trick, which if he had admitted, would have been condoned,
+but which if he denied, would cause him to be looked upon with distrust
+by all the Vatican party. He saw that even the man Cazeau suspected
+him. And then,--when the public confession of the Abbe Vergniaud came
+under discussion,--the Pope had gathered together all the visible
+remains of physical force his attenuated frame could muster, and had
+hurled himself impotently against the wall of opposing fact with such
+frail fury as almost to suggest the celebrated simile of "a reed shaken
+with the wind". In vain had the Cardinal pleaded for Vergniaud's
+pardon; in vain had he urged that after all, the sinner had branded
+himself as such in the sight of all men; what further need to add the
+ban of the Church's excommunication against one who was known to be
+within touch of death? Would not Christ have said, "Go, and sin no
+more"? But this simple quotation from the Gospels seemed to enrage the
+representative of St. Peter more violently than before, and when Bonpre
+left the Holy Presence he knew well enough that he was, for no fault of
+his own, under the displeasure of the Vatican. How had it all come
+about? Nothing could have been simpler than his life and actions since
+he left his own Cathedral-town,--he had prayed for a sick child,--he
+had sympathised with a sorry sinner,--that was all. And such deeds as
+these were commanded by Christ. Yet--the Head of the Church for these
+same things viewed him with wrath and suspicion! Wearily he sat,
+turning over everything in his mind, and longing, with a weakness which
+he fully admitted to his own conscience, to leave Rome at once and
+return to his own home, there to die among his roses at peace. But he
+saw it would never do to leave Rome just yet. He was bound fast hand
+and foot. He was "suspect"! In his querulous fit the Pope had ordered
+Claude Cazeau to return to Rouen without delay, and there gather
+further evidence respecting the Cardinal's stay at the Hotel Poitiers,
+and if possible, to bring the little Fabien Doucet and his mother back
+to Rome with him. Pending the arrival of fresh proof, Bonpre, though he
+had received no actual command, knew he was expected to remain where he
+was. Weary and sick at heart, the venerable prelate sighed as he
+reviewed all the entangling perplexities, which had, so unconsciously
+to himself, become woven like a web about his innocent and harmless
+personality, and so absorbed was he in thought that he did not hear the
+door of his room open, and so was sot aware that his foundling Manuel
+had stood for some time silently watching him. Such love and compassion
+as were expressed in the boy's deep blue eyes could not however radiate
+long through any space without some sympathetic response,--and moved by
+instinctive emotion, Cardinal Felix looked up, and seeing his young
+companion smiled,--albeit the smile was a somewhat sad one.
+
+"Where have you been, my child?" he asked gently, "I have missed you
+for some hours."
+
+Manuel advanced a little, and stood between the pale afternoon light
+reflected through the window, and the warmer glow of the wood fire.
+
+"I have been to the strangest place in all the world!" he answered,
+"The strangest,--and surely one of the most wicked!"
+
+The Cardinal raised himself in his chair, and bent an anxious wondering
+look upon the young speaker.
+
+"One of the most wicked!" he echoed, "What place are you talking of?"
+
+"St. Peter's!" answered Manuel, with a thrill of passion in his voice
+as he uttered the name, "St. Peter's,--the huge Theatre misnamed a
+Church! Oh, dear friend!--do not look at me thus! Surely you must feel
+that what I say is true? Surely you know that there is nothing of the
+loving God in that vast Cruelty of a place, where wealth and
+ostentation vie with intolerant officialism, bigotry and
+superstition!--where even the marble columns have been stolen from the
+temples of a sincerer Paganism, and still bear the names of Isis and
+Jupiter wrought in the truthful stone;--where theft, rapine and murder
+have helped to build the miscalled Christian fane! You cannot in your
+heart of hearts feel it to be the abode of Christ; your soul, bared to
+the sight of God, repudiates it as a Lie! Yes!"--For, startled and
+carried away by the boy's fervour, Cardinal Felix had risen, and now
+stood upright, making a feeble gesture with his hands, as though
+seeking to keep back the crushing weight of some too overwhelming
+conviction,--"Yes--you would silence me!--but you cannot!--I read your
+heart! You love God . . . and I--I love Him too! You would serve
+Him!--and I--I would obey Him! Ah, do not struggle with yourself, dear
+and noble friend! If you were thrice crowned a martyr and saint you
+could not see otherwise than clearly--you could not but accept Truth
+when Truth is manifested to you,--you could not swear falsely before
+God! Would the Christ not say now as He said so many centuries ago--'My
+House is called the house of prayer, but ye have made it a den of
+thieves!' Is it not truly a den of thieves? What has the Man of Sorrows
+to do with all the evil splendour of St. Peter's?--its bronzes, its
+marbles, its colossal statues of dead gods, its glittering altars, its
+miserable dreary immensity, its flaring gilding and insolent vulgarity
+of cost! Oh, what a loneliness is that of Christ in this world! What a
+second Agony in Gethsemane!"
+
+The sweet voice broke--the fair head was turned away,--and Cardinal
+Felix, overcome by such emotion as he found it impossible to explain,
+suddenly sank on his knees, and stretched out his arms to the young
+slight creature who spoke with such a passion and intensity of yearning.
+
+"Child!" he said, with tremulous appeal in his accents, "For God's
+sake'--you who express your thoughts with such eloquence and fervent
+pain!--tell me, WHO ARE YOU? My mind is caught and controlled by your
+words,--you are too young to think as you do, or to speak as you
+do,--yet some authority you seem to possess, which I submit to, not
+knowing why; I am very old, and maybe growing foolish in my age--many
+troubles are gathering about me in these latter days,--do not make them
+more than I can bear!"
+
+His words were to himself incoherent, and yet it seemed as if Manuel
+understood them. Suffering himself to be clasped for a moment by the
+old man's trembling hands, he nevertheless gently persuaded and
+assisted him to rise, and when he was once more seated, stood quietly
+by his side, waiting till he should have recovered from his sudden
+agitation.
+
+"Dear friend, you are weary and troubled in spirit," he said tenderly
+then, "And my words seem to you only terrible because they are true! If
+they grieve you, it is because the grief in your heart echoes mine! And
+if I do think and speak more seriously than I should, it is for the
+reason that I have been so much alone in the world,--left to myself,
+with my own thoughts of God, which are not thoughts such as many care
+for. I would not add to your sorrows,--I would rather lighten them if I
+could--but I feel and fear that I shall be a burden upon you before
+long!"
+
+"Never!" exclaimed Bonpre fervently, "Never a burden on me, child!
+Surely while I live you will not leave me?"
+
+Manuel was silent for a little space. His eyes wandered from the
+Cardinal's venerable worn features to the upstanding silver crucifix
+that gleamed dully in the glow of the wood-embers.
+
+"I will not leave you unless it is well for you that I should go," he
+answered at last, "And even then, you will always know where to find
+me."
+
+The Cardinal looked at him earnestly, and with a searching
+interrogation,--but the boy's face though sweetly composed, had a
+certain gravity of expression which seemed to forbid further
+questioning. And a deep silence fell between them,--a silence which was
+only broken by the door opening to admit Prince Sovrani who, pausing on
+the threshold, said,
+
+"Brother, if you will allow yourself to be disturbed, Angela would like
+to see you in her studio. There are several people there,--her fiance,
+Varillo among the number,--and I think the girl would be glad of your
+presence."
+
+The Cardinal started as from a dream, and rose from his chair.
+
+"I will come at once--yes--I will come," he said, "I must not be
+selfish and think only of my own troubles!" He stood erect,--he was
+still in the scarlet robes in which he had made his appearance at the
+Vatican, and they fell regally about his tall dignified form, the vivid
+colour intensifying the pallor of his thin features. A servant entering
+at the moment with two large silver candelabra ablaze with lights,
+created an effect of luminance in the room that made him appear to even
+greater advantage as an imposing figure of ecclesiastical authority,
+and Prince Pietro looked at him with the admiring affection and respect
+which he, though a cynic and sceptic, had always felt for the brother
+of his wife,--affection and respect which had if anything become
+intensified since that beloved one's untimely death.
+
+"You were well received at the Vatican?" he said tentatively.
+
+"Not so well as I had hoped," replied the Cardinal patiently--"Not so
+well! But the cloud will pass. I will go with you to the
+studio,--Manuel, will you stay here?"
+
+Manuel bent his head in assent; he had just closed the before open copy
+of the Gospels, and now stood with his hand upon the Book.
+
+"I will wait till you call me, my lord Cardinal," he replied.
+
+Prince Pietro then led the way, and Cardinal Bonpre followed, his
+scarlet robes sweeping behind him with a rich rustling sound, and as
+the two entered the large lofty studio, hung with old tapestries, and
+panelled with deeply carved and gilded oak, the room which was Angela
+Sovrani's special sanctum, all the persons there assembled rose from
+their different sitting or lounging attitudes, and respectfully bent
+their heads to the brief and unostentatious benediction given to them
+by the venerable prelate of whom all present had heard, but few had
+seen, and everyone made way for him as Angela met and escorted him to a
+seat on one of the old, throne-like chairs with which the Sovrani
+palace was so amply supplied. When he was thus installed, he made the
+picturesque centre of a brilliant little scene enough,--one of those
+vivacious and bright gatherings which can be found nowhere so perfectly
+blended in colour and in movement as in a great art-studio in Rome.
+Italians are not afraid to speak, to move, to smile,--unlike the
+Anglo-Saxon race, their ease of manner is inborn, and comes to them
+without training, hence there is nothing of the stiff formality and
+awkward gloom which too frequently hangs like a cloud over English
+attempts at sociality,--and that particular charm which is contained in
+the brightness and flashing of eyes, creates a dazzling effect
+absolutely unknown to colder northern climes. Eyes,--so potent to
+bewitch and to command, are a strangely neglected influence in certain
+forms of social intercourse. English eyes are too often dull and
+downcast, and wear an inane expression of hypocrisy and prudery; unless
+they happen to be hard and glittering and meaningless; but in southern
+climes, they throw out radiant invitations, laughing assurances,
+brilliant mockeries, melting tendernesses, by the thousand flashes, and
+make a fire of feeling in the coldest air. And so in Angela's beautiful
+studio, among the whiteness of classic marbles, and the soft hues of
+richly falling draperies, fair faces shone out like flowers, lit up by
+eyes, whose light seemed to be vividly kindled by the heat of an
+amorous southern sun,--Venetian eyes blue as a cornflower, Florentine
+eyes brown and brilliant as a russet leaf in autumn, Roman eyes black
+as night, Sicilian eyes of all hues, full of laughter and flame--and
+yet among all, no sweeter or more penetratingly tender eyes than those
+of Sylvie Hermenstein ever shot glances abroad to bewilder and dazzle
+the heart of man. Not in largeness, colour or brilliancy lay their
+charm, but in deep, langourous, concentrated sweetness,--a sweetness so
+far-reaching from the orb to the soul that it was easy to sink away
+into their depths and dream,--and never wish to wake. Sylvie was
+looking her fairest that afternoon,--the weather was chilly, and the
+close-fitting black velvet dress with its cape-like collar of rich
+sables, well became her figure and delicately fair complexion, and many
+a spiteful little whisper concerning her went round among more showy
+but less attractive women,--many an involuntary but low murmur of
+admiration escaped from the more cautious lips of the men. She was
+talking to the Princesse D'Agramont, who with her brilliant dark beauty
+could afford to confess ungrudgingly the charm of a woman so
+spirituelle as Sylvie, and who, between various careless nods and
+smiles to her acquaintance, was detailing to her with much animation
+the account of her visit to the Marquis Fontenelle before leaving Paris.
+
+"He must be very epris!" said the Princesse laughing, "For he froze
+into a rigid statue of virtue when I suggested that he should escort me
+to Rome! I did not wait to see the effect of my announcement that YOU
+were already there!"
+
+Sylvie lowered her eyes, and a faint colour crimsoned her cheeks.
+
+"Then he knows where I am?" she asked.
+
+"If he believes ME, he knows," replied Loyse D'Agramont, "But perhaps
+he does not believe me! All Paris was talking about the Abbe Vergniaud
+and his son 'Gys Grandit', when I left, and the Marquis appeared as
+interested in that esclandre as he can ever be interested in anything
+or anybody. So perhaps he forgot my visit as soon as it was ended. Abbe
+Vergniaud is very ill by the way. His self-imposed punishment, and his
+unexpected reward in the personality of his son, have proved a little
+too much for him,--both he and 'Grandit' are at my Chateau," here she
+raised her lorgnon, and peered through it with an inquisitive air,
+"Tiens! There is the dear Varillo making himself agreeable as usual to
+all the ladies! When does the marriage come off between him and our
+gifted Sovrani?"
+
+"I do not know," answered Sylvie, with a little dubious look, "Nothing
+is contemplated in that way until Angela's great picture is exhibited."
+
+The Princesse D'Agramont looked curiously at the opposite wall where an
+enormous white covering was closely roped and fastened across an
+invisible canvas, which seemed to be fully as large as Raffaelle's
+"Transfiguration".
+
+"Still a mystery?" she queried, "Has she never shown it even to you?"
+
+Sylvie shook her head.
+
+"Never!" and then breaking off with a sudden exclamation she turned in
+the direction of the door where there was just now a little movement
+and murmur of interest, as the slim tall figure of a man moved slowly
+and with graceful courtesy through the assemblage towards that corner
+of the studio where the Cardinal sat, his niece standing near him, and
+there made a slight yet perfectly reverential obeisance.
+
+"Mr. Leigh!" cried Angela, "How glad I am to see you!"
+
+"And I too," said the Cardinal, extending his hand, and kindly raising
+Aubrey before he could complete his formal genuflection, "You have not
+wasted much of your time in Florence!"
+
+"My business was soon ended there," replied Aubrey. "It merely
+concerned the saving of a famous religious picture--but I find the
+modern Florentines so dead to beauty that it is almost impossible to
+rouse them to any sort of exertion . . ." Here he paused, as Angela
+with a smile moved quickly past him saying,
+
+"One moment, Mr. Leigh! I must introduce you to one of my dearest
+friends!"
+
+He waited, with a curious sense of impatience, and full beating of his
+heart, answering quite mechanically one or two greetings from Florian
+Varillo and other acquaintances who knew and recognised him--and then
+felt, rather than saw, that he was looking into the deep sweet eyes of
+the woman who had flung him a rose from the balcony of the angels, and
+that her face, sweet as the rose itself, was smiling upon him. As in a
+dream he heard her name, "The Comtesse Sylvie Hermenstein" and his own,
+"Mr. Aubrey Leigh"; he was dimly aware of bowing, and of saying
+something vague and formal, but all the actuality of his being was for
+the moment shaken and transfigured, and only one strong and
+overwhelming conviction remained,--the conviction that, in the slight
+creature who stood before him gracefully acknowledging his salutation,
+he had met his fate. Now he understood as he had never done before what
+the poet-philosopher meant by "the celestial rapture falling out of
+heaven";--for that rapture fell upon him and caught him up in a cloud
+of glory, with all the suddenness and fervour which must ever attend
+the true birth of the divine passion in strong and tender natures. The
+calculating sensualist can never comprehend this swiftly exalted
+emotion, this immediate radiation of light through all life, which is
+like the sun breaking through clouds on a dark day. The sensualist has
+by self-indulgence, blunted the edge of feeling, and it is impossible
+for him to experience this delicate sensation of exquisite
+delight,--this marvellous assurance that here and now, face to face,
+stands the One for whom all time shall be merged into a Song of Love,
+and upon whom all the sweetest thoughts of imagination shall be brought
+to bear for the furtherance of mutual joy! Aubrey's strong spirit, set
+to stern labour for so long, and trained to toil with but scant peace
+for reward, now sprang up as it were to its full height of capability
+and resolution,--yet its power was tempered with that tender humility
+which, in a noble-hearted man, bends before the presence of the woman
+whose love for him shall make her sacred. All his instincts bade him
+recognise Sylvie as the completion and fulfilment of his life, and this
+consciousness was so strong and imperative that it made him more than
+gentle to her as he spoke his first few words, and obtained her consent
+to escort her to a seat not far off from the Cardinal, yet removed
+sufficiently from the rest of the people to enable them to converse
+uninterruptedly for a time. Angela watched them, well pleased;--she too
+had quick instincts, and as she noted Sylvie's sudden flush under the
+deepening admiration of Aubrey's eyes, she thought to herself, "If it
+could only be! If she could forget Fontenelle--if--"
+
+But here her thoughts were interrupted by her own "ideal",--Florian
+Varillo who, catching her hand abruptly, drew her aside for a moment.
+
+"Carissima mia, why did you not introduce the Princesse D'Agramont to
+Mr. Leigh rather than the Comtesse Hermenstein? The Princesse is of his
+way of thinking,--Sylvie is not!" and he finished his sentence by
+slipping an arm round her waist quickly, and whispering a word which
+brought the colour to her cheeks and the sparkle to her eyes, and made
+her heart beat so quickly that she could not speak for a moment. Yet
+she was supposed by the very man whose embrace thus moved her, to be
+"passionless!"
+
+"You must not call her 'Sylvie'," she answered at last, "She does not
+like such familiarity--even from you!"
+
+"No? Did she tell you so?" and Florian laughed, "What a confiding
+little darling you are, Angela! I assure you, Sylvie Hermenstein is not
+so very particular--but there! I will not say a word against any friend
+of yours! But do you not see she is already trying to make a fool of
+Aubrey Leigh?"
+
+Angela looked across the room and saw Leigh's intellectual head bending
+closely towards the soft gold of Sylvie's hair, and smiled.
+
+"I do not think Sylvie would willingly make a fool of anyone," she
+answered simply, "She is too loyal and sincere. I fancy you do not
+understand her, Florian. She is full of fascination, but she is not
+heartless."
+
+But Florian entertained a very lively remembrance of the recent rebuff
+given to himself by the fair Comtesse, and took his masculine vengeance
+by the suggested innuendo of a shrug of his shoulders and a lifting of
+his eyebrows. But he said no more just then, and merely contented
+himself with coaxingly abstracting a rose out of Angela's bodice,
+kissing it, and placing it in his own buttonhole. This was one of his
+"pretty drawing-room tricks" according to Loyse D'Agramont who always
+laughed unmercifully at these kind of courtesies. They had been the
+stock-in-trade of her late husband, and she knew exactly what value to
+set upon them. But Angela was easily moved by tenderness, and the
+smallest word of love, the lightest caress made her happy and satisfied
+for a long time. She had the simple primitive notions of an innocent
+woman who could not possibly imagine infidelity in a sworn love.
+Looking at her sweet face, earnest eyes, and slim graceful figure now,
+as she moved away from Florian Varillo's side, and passed glidingly in
+and out among her guests, the Princesse D'Agramont, always watchful,
+wondered with a half sigh how she would take the blow of disillusion if
+it ever came; would it crush her, or would she rise the nobler and
+stronger for it?
+
+"Many a one here in this room to-day," mused the Princesse, "would be
+glad if she fell vanquished in the hard fight! Many a man--shameful as
+it seems--would give a covert kick to her poor body. For there is
+nothing that frets and irks some male creatures so much as to see a
+woman attain by her own brain and hand a great position in the world,
+and when she has won her crown and throne they would deprive her of
+both, and trample her in the mud if they dared! SOME male
+creatures--not all. Florian Varillo for instance. If he could only get
+the world to believe that he paints half Angela's pictures he would be
+quite happy. I daresay he does persuade a few outsiders to think it.
+But in Rome we know better. Poor Angela!"
+
+And with another sigh she dismissed the subject from her mind for the
+moment, her attention being distracted by the appearance of Monsignor
+Gherardi, who just then entered and took up a position by the
+Cardinal's chair, looking the picture of imposing and stately
+affability. One glance of his eyes in the direction of Aubrey Leigh,
+where he sat absorbed in conversation with the Comtesse Hermenstein,
+had put the wily priest in an excellent humour, and nothing could
+exceed the deferential homage and attention he paid to Cardinal Bonpre,
+talking with him in low, confidential tones of the affairs which
+principally occupied their attention,--the miraculous cure of Fabien
+Doucet, and the defection of Vergniaud from the Church. Earnestly did
+the good Felix, thinking Gherardi was a friend, explain again his utter
+unconsciousness of any miracle having been performed at his hands, and
+with equal fervour did he plead the cause of Vergniaud, in the spirit
+and doctrine of Christ, pointing out that the erring Abbe was, without
+any subterfuge at all, truly within proximity of death, and that
+therefore it seemed an almost unnecessary cruelty to set the ban of
+excommunication against a repentant and dying man. Gherardi heard all,
+with a carefully arranged facial expression of sympathetic interest and
+benevolence, but gave neither word nor sign of active partisanship in
+any cause. He had another commission in charge from Moretti, and he
+worked the conversation dexterously on, till he touched the point of
+his secret errand.
+
+"By the way," he said gently, "among your many good and kindly works, I
+hear you have rescued a poor stray boy from the streets of Rouen--and
+that he is with you now. Is that true?"
+
+"Quite true," replied the Cardinal, "But no particular goodness can be
+accredited to any servant of the Gospel for trying to rescue an orphan
+child from misery."
+
+"No--no, certainly not!" assented Gherardi--"But it is seldom that one
+as exalted in dignity as yourself condescends--ah, pardon me!--you do
+not like that word I see!"
+
+"I do not understand it in OUR work," said the Cardinal, "There can be
+no 'condescension' in saving the lost."
+
+Gherardi was silent a moment, smiling a little to himself. "What a
+simpleton is this Saint Felix!" he thought. "What a fool to run amuck
+at his own chances of distinction and eminence!"
+
+"And the boy is clever?" he said presently in kindly accents--"Docile
+in conduct?--and useful to you?"
+
+"He is a wonderful child!" answered the Cardinal with unsuspecting
+candour and feeling, "Thoughtful beyond his years,--wise beyond his
+experience."
+
+Gherardi shot a quick glance from under his eyelids at the fine
+tranquil face of the venerable speaker, and again smiled.
+
+"You have no further knowledge of him?--no clue to his parentage?"
+
+"None."
+
+Just then the conversation was interrupted by a little movement of
+eagerness,--people were pressing towards the grand piano which Florian
+Varillo had opened,--the Comtesse Sylvie Hermenstein was about to grant
+a general request made to her for a song. She moved slowly and with a
+touch of reluctance towards the instrument, Aubrey Leigh walking beside
+her.
+
+"You are a musician yourself?--" she said, glancing up at him, "You
+play--or you sing?"
+
+"I do a little of both," he answered, "But I shall be no rival to you!
+I have heard YOU sing!"
+
+"You have? When?"
+
+"The other night, or else I dreamed it," he said softly, "I have a very
+sweet echo of a song in my mind with words that sounded like 'Ti
+volglio bene', and a refrain that I caught in the shape of a rose!"
+
+Their eyes met--and what Emerson calls "the deification and
+transfiguration of life" began to stir Sylvie's pulses, and set her
+heart beating to a new and singular exaltation. The warm colour flushed
+her cheeks--the lustre brightened in her eyes, and she looked sweeter
+and more bewitching than ever as she loosened the rich sables from
+about her slim throat, and drawing off her gloves sat down to the
+piano. Florian Varillo lounged near her--she saw him not at
+all,--Angela came up to ask if she could play an accompaniment for
+her,--but she shook her bright head in a smiling negative, and her
+small white fingers running over the keys, played a rippling passage of
+a few bars while she raised her clear eyes to Aubrey and asked him,--
+
+"Do you know an old Brittany song called 'Le Palais D'Iffry'? No? It is
+just one of those many songs of the unattainable,--the search for the
+'Fortunate Isles', or the 'Fata Morgana' of happiness."
+
+"Is happiness nothing but a 'Fata Morgana'?'" asked Aubrey gently,
+"Must it always vanish when just in sight?"
+
+His eyes grew darkly passionate as he spoke, and again Sylvie's heart
+beat high, but she did not answer in words,--softening the notes of her
+prelude she sang in a rich mezzo-soprano, whose thrilling tone
+penetrated to every part of the room, the quaint old Breton ballad,
+
+"Il serait un roi! Mais quelqu'un a dit, 'Non!--Pas pour toi! 'Reste en
+prison,--ecoute le chant d'amour, 'Et le doux son des baisers que la
+Reine a promit 'A celui qui monte, sans peur et sans retour Au Palais
+D'Iffry!' Helas, mon ami, C'est triste d'ecouter le chanson sans le
+chanter aussi!"
+
+Aubrey listened to the sweet far-reaching notes--"Sans peur, et sans
+retour, au Palais D'Iffry"! Thither would he climb--to that enchanted
+palace of love with its rainbow towers glittering in the "light that
+never was on sea or land"--to the throne of that queen whose soft eyes
+beckoned him--whose kiss waited for him--everything now must be for
+her--all the world for her sake, willingly lost or willingly won! And
+what of the work he had undertaken? The people to whom he had pledged
+his life? The great Christ-message he had determined to re-preach for
+the comfort of the million lost and sorrowful? His brows
+contracted,--and a sudden shadow of pain clouded the frank clearness of
+his eyes. Gherardi's words came back to his memory,--"You have embarked
+in a most hopeless cause! You will help the helpless, and as soon as
+they are rescued out of trouble they will turn and rend you,--you will
+try to teach them the inner mysteries of God's working and they will
+say you are possessed of a devil!" Then he thought of another and
+grander saying--"Whoso, putting his hand to the plough, looketh back,
+is not fit for the Kingdom of God!--" and over all rang the enchanting
+call of the siren's voice--
+
+"Et le doux son des baisers que la Reine a promit A celui qui monte,
+sans peur et sans retour Au Palais D'Iffry!"
+
+and he so lost himself in a tangle of thought that he did not observe
+how closely Monsignor Gherardi was studying every expression of his
+face, and he started as if he had been awakened from a dream when
+Sylvie's song ceased, and Sylvie herself glanced up at him.
+
+"Music seems to make you sad, Mr. Leigh!" she said timidly.
+
+"Not music--but sometimes the fancies which music engenders, trouble
+me," he answered, bending his earnest searching eyes upon her, and
+wondering within himself whether such a small, slight gossamer thing of
+beauty, brilliant as a tropical humming-bird, soft and caressable as a
+dove, could possibly be expected to have the sweet yet austere
+fortitude and firmness needed to be a true "helpmeet" to him in the
+work he had undertaken, and the life he had determined to lead. He
+noted all the dainty trifles of her toilette half doubtingly, half
+admiringly,--the knot of rich old lace that fastened her sables,--the
+solitary star-like diamond which held that lace in careless
+position--the numerous little touches of taste and elegance which made
+her so unique and graceful among women--and a pang shot through his
+heart as he thought of her wealth, and his own poverty. She meanwhile,
+on her part, was studying him with all the close interest that a
+cultured and refined woman feels, who is strongly conscious of having
+awakened a sudden and masterful passion in a man whom she secretly
+admires. A triumphant sense of her own power moved her, allied to a
+much more rare and beautiful emotion--the sense of soul-submission to a
+greater and higher life than her own. And so it chanced that never had
+she looked so charming--never had her fair cheeks flushed a prettier
+rose--never had her easy fascination of manner been so bewitchingly
+troubled by hesitation and timidity--never had her eyes sparkled with a
+softer or more irresistible languor. Aubrey felt that he was fast
+losing his head as he watched her move, speak, and smile,--and with a
+sudden bracing up of his energies resolved to make his adieux at once.
+
+"I must be going,--" he began to say, when his arm was touched from
+behind, and he turned to confront Florian Varillo, who smiled with all
+the brilliancy his white and even teeth could give him.
+
+"Why must you be going?" asked Varillo cheerily, "Why not stay and dine
+with my future father-in-law, and Angela, and the eminent Cardinal? We
+shall all be charmed!"
+
+"Thanks, no!--I have letters to write to England . . ."
+
+"Good-bye!" said the Comtesse Hermenstein at this juncture,--"I am
+going to drive the Princesse D'Agramont round the Pincio, will you join
+us, Mr. Leigh? The Princesse is anxious to know you--may I introduce
+you?"
+
+And without waiting for a reply, as the Princesse was close at hand,
+she performed the ceremony of introduction at once in her own light
+graceful fashion.
+
+"Truly a strange meeting!" laughed Varillo, "You three ought to be very
+good friends! The Comtesse Hermenstein is a devout daughter of the
+Roman Church--Madame la Princesse is against all Churches--and you, Mr.
+Leigh, are making your own Church!"
+
+Aubrey did not reply. It was not the time or place to discuss either
+his principles or his work, moreover he was strangely troubled by
+hearing Sylvie described as "a devout daughter of the Roman Church."
+
+"I am charmed!" said the Princesse D'Agramont, "Good fortune really
+seems to favour me for once, for in the space of a fortnight I have met
+two of the most distinguished men of the time, 'Gys Grandit', and
+Aubrey Leigh!"
+
+Aubrey bowed.
+
+"You are too kind, Madame! Grandit and I have been friends for some
+years, though we have never seen each other since I parted from him in
+Touraine. But we have always corresponded."
+
+"You have of course heard who he really is? The son of Abbe Vergniaud?"
+continued the Princesse.
+
+"I have heard--but only this morning, and I do not know any of the
+details of the story."
+
+"Then you must certainly come and drive with us," said Loyse
+D'Agramont, "for I can tell you all about it. I wrote quite a brilliant
+essay on it for the Figaro, and called it 'Church Morality'!" She
+laughed. "Come,--we will take no denial!"
+
+Aubrey tried to refuse, but could not,--the attraction,--the 'will o'
+the wisp' magnetism of Sylvie's dainty personality drew him on, and in
+a few minutes, after taking respectful leave of the Cardinal, Prince
+Sovrani, and Angela, he left the studio in the company of the two
+ladies. Passing Monsignor Gherardi on the way out he received a wide
+smile and affable salute from that personage.
+
+"A pleasant drive to you, Mr. Leigh," he said, "The view from the
+Pincio is considered extremely fine!"
+
+Aubrey made some formal answer and went his way. Gherardi returned to
+the studio and resumed his confidential talk with Bonpre, while one by
+one the visitors departed, till at last the only persons left in the
+vast room were Angela and Florian Varillo, Prince Pietro, and the two
+dignitaries of the Church. Florian was irritated, and made no secret of
+his irritation to his fair betrothed, with whom he sat a little apart
+from the others in the room.
+
+"Do you want a love affair between Sylvie Hermenstein and that fellow
+Leigh?" he enquired, "If so, it is probable that your desire will be
+gratified!"
+
+Angela raised her delicate eyebrows in a little surprise.
+
+"I have no wish at all in the matter," she answered, "except to see
+Sylvie quite happy."
+
+"How very romantic is the friendship between you two women!" said
+Varillo somewhat sarcastically, "You wish to see Sylvie happy,--and the
+other day she told me she would form her judgment of me by YOUR
+happiness! Really, it is most admirable and touching!"
+
+Angela began to feel somewhat puzzled. Petulance and temper were not in
+her character, and she was annoyed to see any touch of them in her
+lover.
+
+"Are you cross, Florian?" she asked gently, "Has something worried you
+to-day?"
+
+"Oh, I am often worried!" he replied;--and had he spoken the exact
+truth he would have confessed that he was always seriously put out when
+he was not the centre of attraction and the cynosure of women's
+eyes--"But what does it matter! Do not think at all about me, cara mia!
+Tell me of yourself. How goes the picture?"
+
+"It is nearly finished now," she replied, her beautiful violet eyes
+dilating and brightening with the fervour that inspired her whenever
+she thought of her work, "I rise very early, and begin to paint with
+the first gleam of daylight. I think I shall have it ready sooner than
+I expected. The Queen has promised to come and see it here before it is
+exhibited to the public."
+
+"Margherita di Savoja is very amiable!" said Florian, with a tinge of
+envy he could not wholly conceal, "She is always useful as a patron."
+
+A quick flush of pride rose to Angela's cheeks.
+
+"I do not need any patronage, Florian," she said simply yet with a
+little coldness, "You know that I should resent it were it offered to
+me. If my work is not good in itself, no 'royal' approval can make it
+so. Queen Margherita visits me as a friend--not as a patron."
+
+"There now! I have vexed you!" And Florian took her hand and kissed it.
+"Forgive me, sweetest!--Look at me--give me a smile!--Ah! That is
+kind!" and he conveyed an expression of warm tenderness into his eyes
+as Angela turned her charming face upon him, softened and radiant with
+the quick affection which always moved her at his voice and caress. "I
+spoke foolishly! Of course my Angela could not be patronised--she is
+too independent and gifted. I am very glad the Queen is coming!"
+
+"The Queen is coming?" echoed Gherardi, who just then advanced. "Here?
+To see Donna Sovrani's picture? Ah, that will be an excellent
+advertisement! But it would have been far better, my dear young lady,
+had you arranged with me, or with some other one of my confreres, to
+have the picture sent to the Vatican for the inspection of His
+Holiness. The Popes, as you know, have from time immemorial been the
+best patrons of art!"
+
+"My picture would not please the Pope," said Angela quietly, "It would
+more probably win his denunciation than his patronage."
+
+Gherardi smiled. The idea of a woman--a mere woman imagining that
+anything which she could do was powerful enough to bring down Papal
+denunciation! The strange conceit of these feminine geniuses! He could
+almost have laughed aloud. But he merely looked her over blandly and
+forbearingly.
+
+"I am sorry," he said, "very sorry you should consider such a thing as
+possible of your work. But no doubt you speak on impulse. Your
+distinguished uncle, the Cardinal Bonpre, would be sadly distressed if
+your picture should contain anything of a nature to bring you any
+condemnation from the Vatican,--and your father . . ."
+
+"Leave me out of it, if you please!" interrupted Prince Pietro, "I have
+nothing whatever to do with it! Angela works with a free hand; none of
+us have seen what she is doing."
+
+"Not even you, Signor Varillo?" enquired Gherardi affably.
+
+"Oh, I?" laughed Florian carelessly, "No indeed! I have not the least
+idea of the subject or the treatment!"
+
+"A mystery then?" said Gherardi, still preserving his bland suavity of
+demeanour, "But permit me, Donna Sovrani, to express the hope that when
+the veil is lifted a crown of laurels may be disclosed for you!"
+
+Angela thanked him by a silent inclination of her head, and in a few
+minutes the stately Vatican spy had taken his leave. As he disappeared
+the Cardinal rose from his chair and moving somewhat feebly, prepared
+to return to his own apartments.
+
+"Dearest uncle, will you not stay with us to-night? Or are you too
+tired?" asked Angela as she came to his side.
+
+He raised her sweet face between his two wrinkled hands and looked at
+her long and earnestly. "Dear child!" he said, "Dear brave little
+child! For you must always be nothing more than a child to me,--tell
+me, are you sure you are moved by the right spirit in the painting of
+your picture?"
+
+"I think so!" answered Angela gently, "Indeed, indeed, I think so! I
+know that according to the teaching of our Master Christ, it is a TRUE
+spirit!"
+
+Slowly the Cardinal released her, and slowly and with impressive
+earnestness traced the Cross on her fair brows.
+
+"God bless you!" he said, "And God help you too! For if you work by
+'the Spirit of Truth, the Comforter', remember it is the same Spirit
+which our Lord tells us 'the world cannot receive because it seeth Him
+not, neither knoweth Him.' And to testify of a Spirit which the world
+cannot receive makes the world very hard to you!"
+
+And with these words he gently leaned on the arm she proffered and left
+the studio with her, the rich glow and voluminous folds of his scarlet
+robes contrasting vividly with the simple black gown which Angela wore
+without other adornment than a Niphetos rose to relieve its sombreness.
+As she went with her uncle she looked over her shoulder and smiled an
+adieu to Florian,--he, in his turn lightly kissed his hand to her, and
+then addressed Prince Pietro, who, with the care of a man to whom
+expense is a consideration, was putting out some of the tall lamps that
+had illumined the dusk of the late afternoon.
+
+"The good Cardinal is surely breaking up," he said carelessly, "He
+looks extremely frail!"
+
+"Young men sometimes break up before old ones!" returned the Prince
+drily, "Felix is strong enough yet. You dine with us to-night?"
+
+"If you permit--" said Varillo, with a graceful salutation.
+
+"Oh, my permission does not matter'" said Sovrani eyeing him narrowly,
+"Whatever gives pleasure to Angela must needs please me. She is all
+that is left to me now in an exceedingly dull world. A riverderci! At
+eight we dine."
+
+Flonan nodded,--and took his departure, and the Prince for a moment
+stood hesitating, looking at the great white covering on the wall which
+concealed his daughter's mysterious work. His tall upright figure stiff
+and sombre, looked as if cast in bronze in the half light shed by the
+wood fire,--one lamp was still burning, and after a pause he moved from
+his rigid attitude of gloomy consideration, and extinguished it, then
+glancing round to see that all was in order, he left the studio,
+closing its great oaken door behind him. Five minutes after he had gone
+a soft step trod the polished floor, and the young Manuel, holding a
+lighted taper, entered all alone. The flame of the little torch he
+carried cast a soft golden glow about him as he walked noiselessly
+through the great empty room, his blue eyes lifted to the marble heads
+of gods and heroes which occupied their different positions on the
+gilded and oaken brackets set against the tapestried walls,--and
+presently he paused in front of Angela's hidden work. It was but a
+moment's pause, and then, still with the same light step, and the same
+bright glow reflected from the flame that glittered in his hand, he
+passed through the room, lifted the velvet portiere at the other end
+where there was another door leading to the corridor connected with the
+Cardinal's apartments, and so unnoticed, disappeared.
+
+
+
+
+XXIII.
+
+Meanwhile, the Marquis Fontenelle had been nearly a fortnight in Rome,
+living a sufficiently curious sort of life, and passing his time in a
+constant endeavour to avoid being discovered and recognised by any of
+his numerous acquaintances who were arriving there for the winter. His
+chief occupation was of course to watch the Comtesse Sylvie,--and he
+was rewarded for his untiring pains by constant and bewitching glimpses
+of her. Sometimes he would see her driving, wrapped in furs, her tiny
+Japanese dog curled up in a fold of her sables, and on her lap a knot
+of violets, the fresh scent of which came to him like a sweet breath on
+the air as she passed. Once he almost met her, face to face in the
+gardens of the Villa Borghese, walking all alone, and reading a book in
+which she seemed to be deeply interested. He made a few cautious
+enquiries about her, and learnt that she lived very quietly,--that she
+received certain "great" people,--especially Cardinals and Monsignori,
+notably Monsignor Gherardi, who was a constant visitor. But of any
+closer admirer he never gathered the slightest rumour, till one
+afternoon, just when the sun was sinking in full crimson glory behind
+the dome of St. Peter's, he saw her carriage come to a sudden halt on
+the Pincio and she herself leaned out of it to shake hands with, and
+talk to a tall fair man, who seemed to be on exceptionally friendly
+terms with her. It is true she was accompanied in the carriage by the
+famous Sovrani,--but that fact did not quell the sudden flame of
+jealousy which sprang up in Fontenelle's mind--for both ladies appeared
+equally charmed with the fair man, and their countenances were radiant
+with pleasure and animation all the time they were in conversation with
+him. When the carriage resumed its round again, the Marquis sauntered
+by a side path where he could take quiet observation of his apparent
+rival, who walked past him with a firm light step, looking handsome,
+happy, and amazingly confident. There was an old man raking the path,
+and of him Fontenelle asked carelessly,
+
+"Do you know who that gentleman is?"
+
+The gardener looked up and smiled.
+
+"Ah, si, si! Il Signor Inglese! Molto generoso! Il Signor Aubri Lee!"
+
+Aubrey Leigh! A "celebrity" then,--an English author;--not that all
+English authors are considered "celebrities" in Rome. Italian society
+makes very short work of spurious art, and closes its doors ruthlessly
+against mere English "Grub Street". But Aubrey Leigh was more than an
+author,--he was an influential power in the world, as the Marquis well
+knew.
+
+"A great religious reformer! And yet a victim to the little Sylvie!" he
+mused, "Well! The two things will not work together. Though truly
+Sylvie would captivate a John Knox or a Cromwell. I really think,--I
+really do begin to think, that rather than lose her altogether, I must
+marry her!"
+
+And he went back to the obscure hotel where he had chosen temporarily
+to reside in a meditative mood, and as he entered, was singularly
+annoyed to see a flaring poster outside, announcing the arrival of
+Miraudin and his whole French Company in Rome for a few nights only.
+The name "MIRAUDIN" glared at him in big, fat, red letters on a bright
+yellow ground; and involuntarily he muttered,
+
+"D--n the fellow! Can I go nowhere in the world without coming across
+him!"
+
+Irritated, and yet knowing his irritation to be foolish,--for after
+all, what was the famous actor to him?--what was there in his
+personality to annoy him beyond the trivial fact of a curious personal
+resemblance?--he retired to his room in no pleasant humour, and sitting
+down began to write a letter to Sylvie asking her to be his wife. Yet
+somehow the power of expression seemed lacking, and once or twice he
+laid down his pen in a fit of abstraction, wondering why, when he had
+sought Sylvie as a lover only, he had been able to write the most
+passionate love phrases, full of ardour and poetry, and now, when he
+was about to make her the offer of his whole life, his sentences were
+commonplace and almost cold. And presently he tore up what he had been
+writing, and paced the room impatiently.
+
+"The fact is I shall make a bad husband, and I know it!" he said
+candidly to himself, "And Sylvie will make a great mistake if she
+accepts me!"
+
+He walked to the window and looked out. His hotel was not in a
+fashionable or frequented quarter of Rome, and the opposite view of the
+street was anything but enlivening. Dirty, frowsy women,--idle men,
+lounging along with the slouching gait which is common to the
+'unemployed' Italian,--half-naked children, running hither and thither
+in the mud, and screaming like tortured wild animals,--this kind of
+shiftless, thriftless humanity, pictured against the background of ugly
+modern houses, such as one might find in a London back slum, made up a
+cheerless prospect, particularly as the blue sky was clouded and it was
+beginning to rain. One touch of colour brightened the scene for a
+moment, when a girl with a yellow handkerchief tied round her head
+passed along, carrying a huge flat basket overflowing with bunches of
+purple violets, and as Fontenelle caught the hue, and imagined the
+fragrance of the flowers, he was surprised to feel his eyes smart with
+a sudden sting of tears. The picture of Sylvie Hermenstein, with her
+child-like head, fair hair, and deep blue eyes, floated before
+him,--she was fond of violets, and whenever she wore them, their odour
+seemed to be the natural exhalation of her sweet and spirituelle
+personality.
+
+"She is much too good for me!" he said half aloud, "To be perfectly
+honest with myself, I know I have no stability of character, and I
+cannot imagine myself remaining constant to any woman for more than six
+months. And the best way is to be perfectly straight-forward about it."
+
+He sat down again, and without taking any more thought wrote straight
+from the heart of his present humour, addressing her by the name he had
+once playfully bestowed upon her.
+
+"Enchanteresse! I am here in Rome, and this brief letter is to ask,
+without preamble or apology, whether you will do me the infinite honour
+to become my wife. I confess to you honestly that I am not worth this
+consideration on your part, for I am not to be relied upon. I repose no
+confidence in myself, therefore I will leave it to you to measure my
+audacity in making the suggestion that you should place a lifetime's
+confidence in me. But with all my heart, (as much as I know of it at
+the present), I desire to show you what respect so poor a life as mine
+can give to one who deserves all tenderness, as well as trust. If I may
+hope that you will pardon my past follies and libertinage with regard
+to you,--if you can love me well enough to wear my not too exalted
+name, and preserve my remaining stock of honour, summon me to your
+presence, and I will endeavour, by such devotion and fidelity as in me
+lies, to atone for whatsoever offence I may have given you previously
+by my too passionate pursuit of your beauty. Yours, unless you decide
+my fate otherwise,
+
+"GUY BEAUSIRE DE FONTENELLE."
+
+Thrusting this note into an envelope he hastily sealed it, but decided
+not to post it till late at night, in order that Sylvie might only
+receive it with the early morning, when her mind was fresh, and
+unswayed by any opinions or events of a long day. And to pass the time
+he strolled out to one of the many "osterie," or wine-houses which
+abound in Rome,--a somewhat famous example of its kind in the Via
+Quattro Fontane. Choosing a table where he could sit with his back
+turned towards the door, so as to avoid being seen by either strangers
+or possible friends, he took up the Giornale Romano, and ordered a
+"mezzo-litro" of the "Genzano" wine, for which that particular house
+has long been celebrated. He sat there about half an hour thus quietly
+reading,--scarcely hearing the loud voices and louder laughter of the
+men who came and went around him, when suddenly the name "Sylvie
+Hermenstein" caught his ear. It was spoken carelessly and accompanied
+with a laugh. Quietly laying down his newspaper, he sat very still in
+his chair, keeping his back turned to the groups of wine drinkers who
+were gathering in large numbers as the evening advanced, and listened.
+
+"The most delicious little bonbon in the whole box! Jolie a craquer!"
+said a man's voice.
+
+"Chocolat fondant! Garantie tres pure!" cried another, his words being
+followed by a shout of laughter.
+
+Fontenelle gripped the arm of his chair, and held himself rigid, but
+ready to spring.
+
+"The Church always knows where to find the prettiest women," said the
+first man who had spoken, "from the Santissima Madonna downwards! What
+would become of the Pope if it were not for the women!"
+
+"Bah! The Pope is only one man, but what would become of all the
+Monsignori?" asked a voice different to the rest in mellowness and deep
+quality, but with a touch of insolent mockery in its tone.
+
+Another burst of laughter answered him.
+
+Fontenelle turned in his chair and looked at the last speaker, and to
+his amazement saw the actor, Miraudin. He was leaning carelessly
+against the wine counter, a half-emptied "fiaschetto" in front of him,
+and a full glass of wine in his hand.
+
+"The Monsignori would be all desolate bachelors!" he went on, lazily,
+"And the greatest rascal in the Vatican, Domenico Gherardi, would no
+longer be the fortunate possessor of the wealth, the influence, and the
+dear embraces of the fascinating Hermenstein!"
+
+Scarcely had he spoken when the glass he held was dashed out of his
+hand, and Fontenelle, white with fury, struck him smartly and full
+across the face. A scene of the wildest confusion and uproar ensued.
+All the men in the wine-shop crowded around them, and for a moment
+Miraudin, blinded by the blow, and the wine that had splashed up
+against his eyes, did not see who had struck him, but as he recovered
+from the sudden shock and stared at his opponent, he broke into a wild
+laugh.
+
+"Diantre! Ban soir, Monsieur le Marquis! Upon my life, there is
+something very strange in this! Fate or the devil, or both! Well! What
+now!"
+
+"You are a liar and a blackguard!" said Fontenelle fiercely, "And
+unless you apologise for your insult to the lady whose name you have
+presumed to utter with your mountebank tongue--"
+
+"Apologise! I! Moi!--genie de France! Never!" retorted Miraudin with an
+air of swaggering audacity, "All women are alike! I speak from
+experience!"
+
+White to the lips, the Marquis Fontenelle looked around.
+
+"Are there any MEN here?" he asked, eying the crowd about him with
+ineffable hauteur.
+
+A young fellow stepped forward. "At your command, Marquis! You served
+me once--I shall be happy to serve you now!"
+
+Quickly Fontenelle shook hands with this timely friend. He recognised
+in him a young Italian officer, named Ruspardi, an acquaintance of some
+years back, to whom he had chanced to be useful in a pressing moment of
+need.
+
+"Thanks! Arrange everything for me, will you, Ruspardi? And as quickly
+as possible!"
+
+"It is nearly midnight now," said Ruspardi in a low tone, "Shall we say
+five or six in the morning?"
+
+"Yes--anything you like--but quickly!"
+
+Then raising his head haughtily, he addressed Miraudin in distinct
+tones.
+
+"Monsieur Miraudin, you have greatly insulted and falsely slandered a
+lady whom I have the honour to know. I have struck you for your lie;
+and consider you worthy of no further treatment save a horsewhipping in
+public. Gentlemen do not as a rule condescend to meet their paid
+servants--actors and the like,--in single combat--but I will do you
+that honour!"
+
+And with these words he bowed haughtily to all present, and left the
+scene of noisy disorder.
+
+Out in the streets the moonlight lay in broad silver bands, like white
+glistening ribbon spread in shining strips across the blackness, and
+there was a moisture in the air which,--dropped as it were fresh, from
+the surrounding hills,--cooled Fontenelle's flushed face and burning
+brows. He walked rapidly,--he had a vague, unformed desire in his mind
+to see Sylvie again if possible. He knew where she lived, and he soon
+turned down the street where the quaint old central balcony of the Casa
+D'Angeli thrust itself forward into the moon-rays among the sculptured
+angels' wings,--and he saw that the windows were open. Pausing
+underneath he waited, hesitating--full of strange thoughts and stranger
+regrets. How poor and valueless seemed his life as he regarded it
+now!--now when he had voluntarily placed it in jeopardy! What had he
+done with his days of youth and prime? Frittered away every valuable
+moment,--thrown to the winds every costly opportunity,--spent his
+substance on light women who had kissed and clung to him one day, and
+repulsed him the next. Well--and after? His heart beat thickly,--if he
+could only see Sylvie for a moment! Hush! There was a murmur--a
+voice--a ripple of sweet laughter; and moving cautiously back into the
+shadows, he looked up--yes!--there she was--clad in some soft silvery
+stuff that gathered a thousand sparkles from the light of the
+moon,--her fair hair caught up in a narrow circlet of diamonds, and her
+sweet face purely outlined against the dark worn stone of one of the
+great carved angel-wings. But someone was with her,--someone whom
+Fontenelle recognised at once by the classic shape of his head and
+bright curly hair,--the man whom he had seen that very day on the
+Pincio,--Aubrey Leigh. With a jealous tightening at his heart,
+Fontenelle saw that Leigh held the soft plume of downy feathers which
+served Sylvie for a fan, and that he was lightly waving it to and fro
+as he talked to her in the musical, all-potent voice which had charmed
+thousands, and would surely not be without its fascination for the
+sensitive ears of a woman. Moving a little closer he tried to hear what
+was being said,--but Leigh spoke very softly, and Sylvie answered with
+equal softness, so that he could catch no distinct word. Yet the mere
+tone of these two voices melted into a harmony more dulcet and perfect
+than could be endured by Fontenelle with composure, and uttering an
+impatient exclamation at his own folly he hastily left his retreat, and
+with one parting glance up at the picture of fair loveliness above him
+walked swiftly away. Returning to his hotel he saw the letter that he
+had written to Sylvie lying on the table, and he at once posted it.
+Then he began to prepare for his encounter with Miraudin. He dressed
+quickly,--wrote a few business letters,--and was about to lie down for
+a rest of an hour or so when the swift and furious galloping of a
+horse's hoofs awoke the echoes of the quiet street, and almost before
+he had time to realise what had happened, his friend Ruspardi stood
+before him, breathless and wild with excitement.
+
+"Marquis, you are tricked!" he cried, "Everything is
+prepared--seconds,--pistols,--all! But your man--your man has gone!"
+
+"Gone!" exclaimed Fontenelle furiously, "Where?"
+
+"Out of Rome! In a common fiacre--taking his latest mistress, one of
+the stage-women with him. They were seen driving by the Porta Pia
+towards the Campagna half an hour ago! He dare not face fire--bully and
+coward that he is!"
+
+"I will go after him!" said Fontenelle promptly, "Half an hour ahead,
+you say! Good!--I will catch him up. Can I get a horse anywhere?"
+
+"Take mine," said Ruspardi eagerly, "he is perfectly fresh--just out of
+the stable. Have you weapons?"
+
+"Yes," and the Marquis unlocked a case, and loading two, placed them in
+a travelling holder. Then, turning to Ruspardi he shook hands.
+
+"Thanks, a thousand times! There are a few letters here--see to them if
+I should not come back."
+
+"What are you going to do?" asked Ruspardi, his excitement beginning to
+cool a little, now that he saw the possible danger into which
+Fontenelle was voluntarily rushing.
+
+"Persuade the worthy mountebank either to come back or fight at once on
+whatever ground I find him, and assume to be a gentleman--for once!"
+said Fontenelle, carelessly. "Addio!"
+
+And without further words he hurried off, and tossing a twenty-franc
+piece to the sleepy hotel porter who was holding Ruspardi's horse
+outside, he flung himself into the saddle and galloped away. Ruspardi,
+young and hotblooded, was of too mercurial a disposition to anticipate
+any really serious results of the night's adventure;--his contempt for
+a coward was far greater than his fear of death, and he was delighted
+to think that in all probability the Marquis would use his riding-whip
+on Miraudin's back rather than honour him by a pistol shot. And so
+dismissing all fears from his mind he took Fontenelle's letters in his
+charge, and went straight out of the hotel singing gaily, charmed with
+the exciting thought of the midnight chase which was going on, and the
+possible drubbing and discomfiture of the "celebrated" Miraudin.
+
+Meanwhile, under the flashing stars, and through the sleeping streets
+of Rome, the Marquis galloped with almost breakneck haste. He was a
+daring rider, and the spirited animal he bestrode soon discovered the
+force of his governing touch,--the resolve of his urging speed. He went
+by the Porta Pia, remembering Ruspardi's hurried description of the
+route taken by the runaway actor, and felt, rather than saw the outline
+of the Villa Torlonia, as he rushed past, and the Basilica of St.
+Agnese Fuori le Mura, which is supposed to cover the tomb of the
+child-martyr St. Agnes,--then across the Ponte Nomentano, till, two
+miles further on, in the white radiance of the moon, he perceived,
+driving rapidly ahead of him, the vehicle of which he was in pursuit.
+Letting the reins fall loosely on the neck of his straining steed, he
+raised himself in his stirrups, and by his own movements assisted the
+animal's now perfectly reckless gallop,--and at last, hearing the
+flying hoofs behind, the driver of the fiacre became seized with panic,
+and thinking of possible brigands and how to pacify them, he suddenly
+pulled up and came to a dead halt. A head was thrust out of the
+carriage window,--Miraudin's head,--and Miraudin's voice shouted in bad
+Italian,
+
+"What are you stopping for, rascal! On with you! On with you! Five
+hundred francs for your best speed!"
+
+Scarcely had he uttered the words when the Marquis gained the side of
+the vehicle, and pulling up his horse till it almost fell in rearing
+backwards, he cried furiously,
+
+"Lache! Tu vas te crever sur terre avant je te quitte!"
+
+And he struck his riding-whip full in the actor's face.
+
+Springing out of the fiacre Miraudin confronted his antagonist. His hat
+was off--and his countenance, marked as it was with the crimson line of
+the lash, lightened with laughter.
+
+"Again! Monsieur le Marquis, je vous salue!" he said, "Kismet! One
+cannot escape it! Better to fight with you, beau sire, than with
+destiny! I am ready!"
+
+Fontenelle at once dismounted, and tied his horse to the knotted bough
+of a half-withered tree. Taking his pistols out of their holder he
+proffered them to Miraudin.
+
+"Choose!" he said curtly, "Or use your own if you have any,--but mine
+are loaded,--take care yours are! Play no theatrical tricks on such a
+stage as this! "And then he gave a comprehensive wave of his hand
+towards the desolate waste of the Campagna around them, and the faint
+blue misty lines of the Alban hills just rimmed with silver in the rays
+of the moon.
+
+At the first sight of the pistols the driver of the fiacre, who had
+been more or less stupefied till now, by the suddenness of the
+adventure, gave a sort of whining cry, and climbing down from his box
+fell on his knees before Miraudin, and then ran a few paces and did the
+same thing in front of the Marquis, imploring both men not to
+fight,--not to get killed, on account of the trouble it would cause to
+him, the coachman;--and with a high falsetto shriek a lady flung
+herself out of the recesses of the closed vehicle, and clung to the
+actor's arm.
+
+"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! What is it you would do?" she cried, "Be killed
+out here on the Campagna? and not a soul in sight--not a house--not a
+shelter? And what is to become of me!--Me!--Me!--" and she tapped her
+heaving bosom in melodramatic style, "Have you thought of ME?"
+
+"You--you!" laughed Miraudin, tearing off the lace veil which she wore
+wrapped loosely round her head and shoulders, "You, Jeanne Richaud!
+What is to become of you? The same fate will attend you that attends
+all such little moths of the footlights! Perhaps a dozen more lovers
+after me--then old age, and the care of a third-class lodging-house for
+broken-down actors!" Here he chose his weapon. "At your service,
+Marquis!"
+
+Jeanne Richaud, a soubrette, whose chief stock-in-trade had been her
+large dark eyes and shapely legs, uttered a desperate scream, and threw
+herself at the feet of the Marquis Fontenelle.
+
+"Monsieur! Monsieur! Think for a moment! This combat is unequal--out of
+rule! You are a gentleman,--a man of honour!--would you fight without
+seconds? It is murder--murder--!"
+
+Here she broke off, terrified in spite of herself by the immovability
+of Fontenelle's attitude, and the coldness of his eyes.
+
+"I regret to pain you, Madame," he said stiffly, "This combat was
+arranged according to rule between Monsieur Miraudin and myself some
+hours since--and though it seems he did not intend to keep his
+engagement I intend to keep mine! The principals in the fight are
+here,--seconds are, as their name implies, a secondary matter. We must
+do without them."
+
+"By no means!" exclaimed Miraudin, "We have them! Here they are! You,
+Jeanne, will you be my second--how often you have seconded me in many a
+devil's game--and you--cochon d'un cocher!--you will for once in your
+life support the honour of a Marquis!"
+
+And with these words he seized the unhappy Roman cab-driver by the
+collar of his coat, and flung him towards Fontenelle, who took not the
+slightest notice of him as he lay huddled up and wailing on the grass,
+but merely stood his ground, silently waiting. Mademoiselle Jeanne
+Richaud however was not so easily disposed of. Throwing herself on the
+cold ground, thick with the dust of dead Caesars, she clung to
+Miraudin, pouring out a torrent of vociferous French, largely
+intermixed with a special slang of the Paris streets, and broken by the
+hysterical yells when she saw her "protector" throw off his coat, and,
+standing in his shirt-sleeves, take close observation of the pistol he
+held.
+
+"Is this your care of me?" she cried, "Mon Dieu! What a thing is a man!
+Here am I alone in a strange country--and you endanger your life for
+some quarrel of which I know nothing,--yet you pretend to love me! Nom
+de Jesus! What is your love!"
+
+"You do well to ask," said Miraudin, laughing carelessly, "What is my
+love! A passing fancy, chere petite! We actors simulate love too well
+to ever feel it! Out of the way, jou-jou! Your life will be amusing so
+long as you keep a little beaute de diable. After that--the
+lodging-house!"
+
+He pushed her aside, but she still clung pertinaciously to his arm.
+
+"Victor! Victor!" she wailed, "Will you not look at me--will you not
+kiss me!"
+
+Miraudin wheeled round, and stared at her amazed.
+
+"Kiss you!" he echoed, "Pardieu! Would you care! Jeanne! Jeanne! You
+are a little mad,--the moonlight is too much for you! To-morrow I will
+kiss you, when the sun rises--or if I am not here--why, somebody else
+will!"
+
+"Who is the woman you are fighting for?" she suddenly demanded,
+springing up from her crouching position with flushed cheeks and
+flashing eyes. Miraudin looked at her with nonchalant admiration.
+
+"I wish you would have looked like that sometimes on my stage," he
+said, "You would have brought down the house! 'Woman!' No 'woman' at
+all, but WOMEN! The glamour of them--the witchery of them--women!--the
+madness of them! Women!--The ONE woman saves when the ONE woman exists,
+but then,--we generally kill HER! Now, once more, Jeanne,--out of the
+way! Time flies, and Monsieur le Marquis is in haste. He has many
+fashionable engagements!"
+
+He flashed upon her a look from the bright amorous hazel eyes, that
+were potent to command and difficult to resist, and she cowered back,
+trembling and sobbing hysterically as the Marquis advanced.
+
+"You are ready?" he enquired civilly.
+
+"Ready!"
+
+"Shall we say twelve paces?"
+
+"Excellent!"
+
+Deliberately Fontenelle dug his heel into the ground and measured
+twelve paces from that mark between himself and his antagonist. Then
+with cold courtesy he stood aside for Miraudin to assure himself that
+the measurement was correct. The actor complied with this formality in
+a sufficiently composed way, and with a certain grace and dignity which
+Fontenelle might almost have taken for bravery if he had not been so
+convinced that the man was "acting" still in his mind, and was going
+through a "part" which he disliked, but which he was forced to play.
+And with it all there was something indefinable about him--something
+familiar in the turn of his head, the glance of his eye, the movement
+of his body, which annoyed Fontenelle, because he saw in all these
+little personal touches such a strong resemblance to himself. But there
+was now no time to think, as the moment for the combat drew near.
+Jeanne Richaud was still weeping hysterically and expostulating with
+the cab-driver, who paid no attention whatsoever to her pleadings, but
+remained obstinately on his knees out of harm's way, begging the
+"Santissima Madonna" and all his "patron saints" to see him safely with
+his fiacre back to the city. That was all he cared for.
+
+"We have no one to give us a signal," said Miraudin lightly, "But there
+is a cloud on the moon. When it passes, shall we fire?"
+
+The Marquis bowed assent.
+
+For a moment the moon-rays were obscured,--and a faint sigh from the
+wind stirred the long dry grass. A bat flew by, scurrying towards the
+Catacombs of Alexander,--a shadow lay upon the land. The
+combatants,--so singularly alike in form and feature,--stood rigidly in
+position, their weapons raised,--their only witnesses a cabman and a
+wanton, both creatures terrified out of their wits for themselves and
+their own safety. Swiftly the cloud passed--and a brilliant silver
+glory was poured out on hill and plain and broken column,--and as it
+shone, the two shots were fired simultaneously--the two bullets whizzed
+through the air. A light puff of smoke rose in the moonbeams--it
+cleared--and Miraudin reeled backwards and fell heavily to the ground.
+Fontenelle stood upright, but staggered a little,--instinctively
+putting his hand to his breast. Jeanne Richaud rushed to the side of
+her fallen lover.
+
+"Victor! Victor!"
+
+Miraudin struggled up to a half sitting position--the blood was welling
+up thickly from a wound in his lungs. Half suffocated as he was, he
+made a strong effort to speak, and succeeded.
+
+"Not you--not you!" he gasped, "Do not touch me! Do not come near me!
+Him!--him!" And he pointed to Fontenelle who still stood erect, swaying
+slightly to and fro with a dazed far-off look in his eyes--but now--as
+the frenzied soubrette beckoned him, he moved unsteadily to the side of
+his mortally wounded opponent, and there, through weakness, not
+emotion, dropped on his knees. Miraudin looked at him with staring
+filmy eyes.
+
+"How I have hated you, Monsieur le Marquis!" he muttered thickly, "How
+I have hated you! Yes--as Cain hated Abel! For we--we are brothers as
+they were--born of the same father--ah! You start!" for Fontenelle
+uttered a gasping cry--"Yes--in spite of your pride, your lineage, your
+insolent air of superiority--YOUR father was MY father!--the late
+Marquis was no more satisfied with one wife than any of us are!--and
+had no higher code of honour! YOUR mother was a grande dame,--MINE was
+a 'light o' love' like this feeble creature!" and he turned his glance
+for a moment on the shuddering, wailing Jeanne Richaud. "YOU were the
+legal Marquis--_I_ the illegal genius! . . . yes--genius--!"
+
+He broke off, struggling for breath.
+
+"Do you hear me?" he whispered thickly, "Do you hear?"
+
+"I hear," answered Fontenelle, speaking with difficulty, "You have
+hated me, you say--hate me no more!--for hate is done with--and love
+also!--I am--dying!"
+
+He grasped the rank grass with both hands in sudden agony, and his face
+grew livid. Miraudin turned himself on one arm.
+
+"Dying! You, too! By Heaven! Then the Marquisate must perish! I should
+have fired in the air--but--but the sins of the fathers . . . what is
+it?" Here a ghastly smile passed over his features, "The sins of the
+fathers--are visited on the children! What a merciful Deity it is, to
+make such an arrangement!--and the excellent fathers!--when all the
+children meet them--I wonder what they will have to say to each other I
+wonder . . ." A frightful shudder convulsed his body and he threw up
+his arms.
+
+ "'Un peu d'amour,
+ Et puis--bon soir!'
+
+C'est ca! Bon soir, Marquis!"
+
+A great sigh broke from his lips, through which the discoloured blood
+began to ooze slowly--he was dead. And Fontenelle, whose wound bled
+inwardly, turned himself wearily round to gaze on the rigid face
+upturned to the moon. His brother's face! So like his own! He was not
+conscious himself of any great pain--he felt a dizzy languor and a
+drowsiness as of dreams--but he knew what the dreaming meant,--he knew
+that he would soon sleep to wake again--but where? He did not see that
+the woman who had professed to love Miraudin had already rushed away
+from his corpse in terror, and was entreating the cabman to drive her
+quickly from the scene of combat,--he realised nothing save the white
+moonbeams on the still face of the man who in God's sight had been his
+brother. Fainter and still fainter grew his breath--but he felt near
+his heart for a little crumpled knot of filmy lace which he always
+carried--a delicate trifle which had fallen from one of Sylvie's pretty
+evening gowns once, when he had caught her in his arms and sworn his
+passion. He kissed it now, and inhaled its violet perfume--as he took
+it from his lips he saw that it was stained with blood. The heavy
+languor upon him grew heavier--and in the dark haze which began to
+float before his eyes he saw women's faces, some beautiful, some
+devilish, yet all familiar,--he felt himself sinking--sinking into some
+deep abyss of shadows, so dark and dreary that he shuddered with the
+icy cold and horror, till Sylvie came, yes!--Sylvie's soft eyes shone
+upon him, full of the pity and tenderness of some divine angel near
+God's throne,--an angel of sweetness--an angel of forgiveness--ah!--so
+sweet she was, so childlike, so trusting, so fair, so enticing in those
+exquisite ways of hers which had pleaded with him, prayed to him, tried
+to draw him back from evil, and incite him to noble thought; "ways"
+that would have persuaded him to cleanse his flag of honour from the
+mud of social vice and folly, and lift it to the heavens white and
+pure! Ah, sweet ways!--sweet voice!--sweet woman!--sweet possibilities
+of life now gone forever! Again that sinking,--that icy chill! His eyes
+were closing--yet he forced himself to open them as he sank back
+heavily on the turf, and then--then he saw the great white moon
+descending on him as it seemed, like a shield of silver flung down to
+crush him, by some angry god!
+
+"Sylvie!--Sylvie!" he muttered, "I never knew--how much I loved
+you--till-now! Sylvie!"
+
+His eyes closed--a little smile flickered on his mouth for a
+moment--and then the Shadow fell. And he lay stark and pallid in the
+moonlight, close to the brother he had never known till the last hour
+of life had revealed the bond of blood between them. Side by side they
+lay,--strangely alike in death,--men to whom the possibilities of noble
+living had been abundantly given, and who had wasted all their
+substance on vanity. For Victor Miraudin, despite his genius and the
+brilliancy of his art, was not likely to be longer remembered or
+mourned than the Marquis Fontenelle. The fame of the actor is even less
+than that of the great noble,--the actor's name is but a bubble on the
+air which a breath disperses,--and the heir to a proud house is only
+remembered by the flattering inscription on his tombstone. Forgotten
+Caesars, greater than any living monarch, had mixed their bones with
+the soil where these two sons of one father lay dead,--the bright moon
+was their sanctuary lamp,--the stars their funeral torches,--the width
+of the Campagna their bier, and the heavens their pall. And when the
+two terrified witnesses of the fatal fight realised the position, and
+saw that both combatants had truly perished, there were no regrets, no
+lamentations, no prayers, no thought of going for assistance. With the
+one selfish idea uppermost,--that of escaping immediate trouble--Jeanne
+Richaud rallied her scattered wits, and dragging the praying and
+gesticulating cab-driver up from his knees, she bade him mount his box
+and drive her back to the city. Tremblingly he prepared to obey, but
+not without unfastening the horse which the dead Marquis had so lately
+ridden, and taking some trouble to attach it to his vehicle for his own
+uses.
+
+"For if we do this, they will never know!" he muttered with chattering
+teeth, "A horse is always a horse--and this is a good animal, more
+valuable than the men;--and when they find the men that is none of our
+business. In--in with you, Madama! I will drive you into the
+city,--that is, if you give me a thousand francs instead of the five
+hundred your man promised me! Otherwise I will leave you here!"
+
+"A thousand!" shrieked Richaud, "Oh, thief! You know I am a poor
+stranger--Oh, mon Dieu! Do not murder me!" This, as the driver, having
+hustled her into the vehicle and shut the door, now shook his dirty
+fist at her threateningly. "Oh!--what a night of horror! Yes--yes!--a
+thousand!--anything!--only take me back to Rome!"
+
+Satisfied in his own mind that he had intimidated her sufficiently to
+make her give him whatever he demanded, the driver who, despite his
+native cupidity, was seriously alarmed for his own safety, hesitated no
+longer, and the noise of the dashing wheels and the galloping hoofs
+woke loud echoes from the road, and dull reverberations from the Ponte
+Nomentano, as the equipage, with two horses now instead of one,
+clattered out of sight. And then came silence,--the awful silence of
+the Campagna--a silence like no other silence in the world--brooding
+like darkness around the dead.
+
+
+
+
+XXIV.
+
+The next morning dawned with all the strange half mystical glow of
+light and colour common to the Italian sky,--flushes of pink warmed the
+gray clouds, and dazzling, opalescent lines of blue suggested the sun
+without declaring it,--and Sylvie Hermenstein, who had passed a
+restless and wakeful night, rose early to go on one of what her society
+friends called her "eccentric" walks abroad, before the full life of
+the city was up and stirring. She, who seemed by her graceful mignonne
+fascinations and elegant toilettes, just a butterfly of fashion and no
+more, was truly of a dreamy and poetic nature,--she had read very
+deeply, and the griefs and joys of humanity presented an ever-varying
+problem to her refined and penetrative mind. She was just now
+interesting herself in subjects which she had never studied so closely
+before,--and she was gradually arriving at the real secret of the
+highest duty of life,--that of serving and working for others without
+consideration for oneself. A great love was teaching her as only a
+great love can;--a love which she scarcely dared to admit to herself,
+but which nevertheless was beginning to lead her step by step, into
+that mysterious land, half light, half shadow, which is the nearest
+road to Heaven,--a land where we suffer gladly for another's sorrow,
+and are joyous in our own griefs, because another is happy! To love ONE
+greatly, means to love ALL more purely,--and to find heart-room and
+sympathy for the many sorrows and perplexities of those who are not as
+uplifted as ourselves. For the true mission of the divine passion in
+its divinest form, is that it should elevate and inspire the soul,
+bringing it to the noblest issues, and for this it must be associated
+with respect, as well as passion. No true soul can love what it does
+not sincerely feel to be worthy of love. And Sylvie--the brilliant
+little caressable Sylvie, whose warm heart had been so long
+unsatisfied, was, if not yet crowned by the full benediction of love,
+still gratefully aware of the wonderful colour and interest which had
+suddenly come into her life with the friendship of Aubrey Leigh. His
+conversation, so different to the "small talk" of the ordinary man, not
+only charmed her mind, but strengthened and tempered it,--his
+thoughtful and tender personal courtesy filled her with that serenity
+which is always the result of perfect manner,--his high and pure ideas
+of life moved her to admiration and homage,--and when she managed to
+possess herself of every book he had written, and had read page after
+page, sentence after sentence, of the glowing, fervent, passionate
+language, in which he denounced shams and glorified truth,--the
+firmness and fearlessness with which he condemned religious hypocrisy,
+and lifted pure Christianity to the topmost pinnacle of any faith ever
+known or accepted in the world, her feelings for him, while gaining
+fresh warmth, grew deeper and more serious, merging into reverence as
+well as submission. She had a book of his with her as a companion to
+her walk this very morning, and as she entered the Pamphili woods,
+where she had a special "permesso" to go whenever she chose, and trod
+the mossy paths, where the morning sun struck golden shafts between the
+dark ilex-boughs, as though pointing to the thousands of violets that
+blossomed in the grass beneath, she opened it at a page containing
+these lines:--
+
+"Who is it that dares assert that his life or his thoughts are his own?
+No man's life is his own! It is given to him in charge to use for the
+benefit of others,--and if he does not so use it, it is often taken
+from him when he least expects it. 'THOU FOOL, THIS NIGHT THY LIFE
+SHALL BE REQUIRED OF THEE!' No man's thoughts even, are his own. They
+are the radiations of the Infinite Mind of God which pass through every
+living atom. The beggar may have the same thought as the Prime
+Minister,--he only lacks the power of expression. The more helpless and
+inept the beggar, the greater the responsibility of the Premier. For
+the Premier has received education, culture, training, and the choice
+of the people, and to him is given the privilege of voicing the
+beggar's thought. And not only the beggar's thought, but the thoughts
+of all in the nation who have neither the skill nor the force to speak.
+If he does not do what he is thus elected to do, he is but an
+inefficient master of affairs. And what shall we say of the ministers
+of Religion who are 'ordained' to voice the Message of Christ? To echo
+the Divine!--to repeat the grand Ethics of Life,--the Law of Love and
+Charity and Forbearance and Pity and Forgiveness! When one of these
+highly destined servants of the Great King fails in his duty,--when he
+cannot pardon the sinner,--when he looks churlishly upon a child, or
+condemns the innocent amusements of the young and happy,--when he makes
+the sweet Sabbath a day of penance instead of praise--of tyranny
+instead of rest,--when he has no charity for backsliders, no sympathy
+for the sorrowful, no toleration for the contradictors of his own
+particular theory--do we not feel that his very existence is a
+blasphemy, and his preaching a presumption!"
+
+Here Sylvie raised her eyes from the book. She was near an ancient
+cedar-tree whose dark spreading boughs, glistening with the early
+morning dew, sparkled like a jewelled canopy in the sun,--at her feet
+the turf was brown and bare, but a little beyond at the turn of the
+pathway, a cluster of white narcissi waved their graceful stems to the
+light wind. There was a rustic bench close by, and she sat down to rest
+and think. Very sweet thoughts were hers,--such thoughts as sweet women
+cherish when they dream of Love. Often the dream vanishes before
+realisation, but this does not make the time of dreaming less precious
+or less fair. Lost in a reverie which in its pleasantness brought a
+smile to her lips, she did not hear a stealthy footstep on the grass
+behind her, or feel a pair of dark eyes watching her furtively from
+between the cedar-boughs,--and she started with surprise, and something
+of offence also, as Monsigner Gherardi suddenly appeared and addressed
+her,--
+
+"Buon giorno, Contessa!"
+
+She rose from her seat and saluted him in silence, instinctively
+grasping the book she held a little closer. But Gherardi's quick glance
+had already perceived the title and the name of its author.
+
+"You improve the time!" he said, sarcastically, pacing slowly beside
+her. "To one of your faith and devotion that book should be accursed!"
+
+She raised her clear eyes and looked at him straightly,
+
+"Is the sunlight accursed?" she said, "The grass or the flowers? The
+thoughts in this book are as pure and beautiful as they!"
+
+Gherardi smiled. The enthusiasm of a woman's unspoilt nature was always
+a source of amusement to him.
+
+"Your sentiments are very pretty and poetic!" he said, "But they are
+exaggerated. That book is on the 'Index'!"
+
+"Yes, of course it would be!" answered Sylvie quietly, "I have often
+wondered why so much fine literature is condemned by the Church,--and
+do you know, it occurred to me the other day that if our Lord had
+WRITTEN what He said in the form of a book, it might be placed on the
+'Index' also?"
+
+Gherardi lifted his eyes from their scrutiny of the ground, and fixed
+them upon her with a look of amazement that was almost a menace. But
+she was not in the least intimidated,--and her face, though pale as the
+narcissi she had just seen in blossom, was very tranquil.
+
+"Are you the Comtesse Hermenstein?" said Gherardi then, after an
+impressive pause, "The faithful, gentle daughter of Holy Church? or are
+you some perverted spirit wearing her semblance?"
+
+Sylvie laughed.
+
+"If I am a perverted spirit you ought to be able to exorcise me,
+Monsignor!" she said,--"With the incense of early Mass clinging to you,
+and the holy water still fresh on your hands, you have only to say,
+'Retro me Sathanas!' and if I am NOT Sylvie Hermenstein I shall melt
+into thin air, leaving nothing but the odour of sulphur behind me! But
+if I AM Sylvie Hermenstein, I shall remain invincible and
+immovable,--both in myself and in my opinions!"
+
+Gherardi controlled his rising irritation, and was silent for some
+minutes, reflecting within himself that if the fair Countess had
+suddenly turned restive and wayward, it was probably because she was
+falling in love with the author whose works she defended, and taking
+this into consideration, he judged it would be wisest to temporise.
+
+"Invincible you always are!" he said in softer tones, "As many unhappy
+men in Europe can testify!"
+
+"Are you among them?" queried Sylvie mischievously, the light of
+laughter beginning to twinkle and flash in her pretty eyes.
+
+"Of course!" answered Gherardi suavely, though his heart beat thickly,
+and the secret admiration he had always felt for the delicate beauty of
+this woman who was so utterly out of his reach, made his blood burn
+with mingled rage and passion. "Even a poor priest is not exempt from
+temptation!"
+
+Sylvie hummed a little tune under her breath, and looked up at the sky.
+
+"It will be a lovely day!" she said--"There will be no rain!"
+
+"Is that the most interesting thing you can say to me?" queried
+Gherardi.
+
+"The weather is always interesting," she replied, "And it is such a
+safe subject of conversation!"
+
+"Then you are afraid of dangerous subjects?"
+
+"Oh no, not at all! But I dislike quarrelling,--and I am afraid I
+should get very angry if you were to say anything more against the book
+I am reading"--here she paused a moment, and then added steadily, "or
+its author!"
+
+"I am aware that he is a great friend of yours," said Gherardi gently,
+"And I assure you, Contessa--seriously I assure you, I should be the
+last person in the world to say anything against him. Indeed, there is
+nothing to say, beyond the fact that he is, according to our religion,
+a heretic--but he is a brilliant and intellectual heretic,--WELL WORTH
+REDEEMING!" He emphasised the words, and shot a meaning glance at her;
+but she did not appear to take his hint or fathom his intention. She
+walked on steadily, her eyes downcast,--her tiny feet, shod in charming
+little French walking shoes, peeping in and out with a flash of steel
+on their embroidered points, from under the mysterious gleam of silk
+flounces that gave a soft "swish," as she moved,--her golden hair
+escaping in one or two silky waves from under a picturesque black hat,
+fastened on by velvet ribbons, which were tied in a captivating knot
+under the sweetest of little white chins, a chin whose firm contour
+almost contradicted the sensitive lines of the kissable mouth above it.
+A curious, dull sense of anger teased the astute brain of Domenico
+Gherardi, as with all the dignified deportment of the stately
+churchman, he walked on by her side. What was all his scheming worth,
+he began to think, if this slight feminine creature proved herself more
+than a match for him? The utmost he could do with his life and
+ambitions was to sway the ignorant, cram his coffers with gold, and
+purchase a change of mistresses for his villa at Frascati. But
+love,--real love, from any human creature alive he never had won, and
+knew he never should win. Sylvie Hermenstein was richer far than
+he,--she had not only wealth and a great position, but the joys of a
+natural existence, and of a perfect home-life were not denied to her.
+Presently, seeing that they were approaching the gates of exit from the
+Pamphili, he said,--
+
+"Contessa, will you give me the favour of an hour's conversation with
+you one afternoon this week? I have something of the very greatest
+importance to say to you."
+
+"Can you not say it now?" asked Sylvie.
+
+"No, it would take too long,--besides, if walls have ears, it is
+possible that gardens have tongues! I should not presume to trouble
+you, were it not for the fact that my business concerns the welfare of
+your friend, Mr. Aubrey Leigh, in whose career I think you are
+interested,--and not only Mr. Leigh, but also Cardinal Bonpre. You will
+be wise to give me the interview I seek,--unwise if you refuse it!"
+
+"Monsignor, you have already been well received at my house, and will
+be well received again,"--said Sylvie with a pretty dignity, "Provided
+you do not abuse my hospitality by calumniating my FRIENDS, whatever
+you may think of myself,--you will be welcome! What day, and at what
+hour shall I expect you?"
+
+Gherardi considered a moment.
+
+"I will write," he said at last, "I cannot at this moment fix the time,
+but I will not fail to give you notice. A riverderci! Benedicite!"
+
+And he left her abruptly at the gates, walking rapidly in the direction
+of the Vatican. Full of vague perplexities to which she could give no
+name, Sylvie went homewards slowly, and as she entered her rooms, and
+responded to the affectionate morning greetings of Madame Bozier, she
+was conscious of a sudden depression that stole over her bright soul
+like a dark cloud on a sunny day, and made her feel chilled and sad.
+Turning over the numerous letters that waited her perusal, she
+recognised the handwriting of the Marquis Fontenelle on one, and took
+it up with a strange uneasy dread and beating of the heart. She read it
+twice through, before entirely grasping its meaning, and then--as she
+realised that the man who had caused her so much pain and shame by his
+lawless and reckless pursuit of her in the character of a libertine,
+was now, with a frank confession of his total unworthiness, asking her
+to be his wife,--the tears rushed to her eyes, and a faint cry broke
+from her lips.
+
+"Oh, I cannot . . . I cannot!" she murmured, "Not now--not now!"
+
+Madame Bozier looked at her in distress and amazement.
+
+"What is the matter, dear?" she asked, "Some bad news?"
+
+Silently Sylvie handed her Fontenelle's letter.
+
+"Dear me! He is actually in Rome!" said the old lady, "And he asks you
+to be his wife! Well, dear child, is not that what you had a right to
+expect from him?"
+
+"Yes--perhaps--but I cannot--not now!--Oh no, not now!" murmured
+Sylvie, and her eyes, wet with tears, were full of an infinite pain.
+
+"But--pardon me dear--do you not love him?"
+
+Sylvie stood silent--gazing blankly before her, with such perplexity
+and sorrow in her face that her faithful gouvernante grew anxious and
+troubled.
+
+"Child, do not look like that!" she exclaimed, "It cuts me to the
+heart! You were not made for sorrow!"
+
+"Dear Katrine,--we were all made for sorrow," said Sylvie slowly,
+"Sorrow is good for us. And perhaps I have not had sufficient of it to
+make me strong. And this is real sorrow to me,--to refuse Fontenelle!"
+
+"But why refuse him if you love him?" asked Madame Bozier bewildered.
+
+Sylvie sat down beside her, and put one soft arm caressingly round her
+neck.
+
+"Ah, Katrine,--that is just my trouble," she said, "I do not love him
+now! When I first met him he attracted me greatly, I confess,--he
+seemed so gentle, so courteous, and above all, so true! But it was
+'seeming' only, Katrine!--and he was not anything of what he seemed.
+His courtesy and gentleness were but a mask for licentiousness,--his
+apparent truth was but a disguise for mere reckless and inconstant
+passion. I had to find this bit by bit,--and oh, how cruel was the
+disillusion! How I prayed for him, wept for him, tried to think that if
+he loved me he might yet endeavour to be nobler and truer for my sake.
+But his love was not great enough for that. What he wanted was the body
+of me, not the soul. What _I_ wanted of him was the soul, not the body!
+So we played at cross purposes,--each with a different motive,--and
+gradually, as I came to recognise how much baseness and brutality there
+is in mere libertinism,--how poor and paltry an animal man becomes when
+he serves himself and his passions only, my attraction for him
+diminished,--I grew to realise that I could never raise him out of the
+mud, because he had lived by choice too long in it,--I could never
+persuade him to be true, even to himself, because he found the ways of
+falsehood and deceit more amusing. He did unworthy things, which I
+could not, with all my admiration for him, gloze over or excuse;--in
+fact, I found that in his private life and code of honour he was very
+little better than Miraudin,--and Miraudin, as you know, one CANNOT
+receive!"
+
+"He is in Rome also," said Madame Bozier, "I saw his name placarded in
+the streets only yesterday, and also outside one of the leading
+theatres. He has brought all his Parisian company here to act their
+repertoire for a few nights before proceeding to Naples."
+
+"How strange he should be here!" said Sylvie, "How very strange! He is
+so like the Marquis Fontenelle, Katrine! So very like! I used to go to
+the theatre and frighten myself with studying the different points of
+resemblance! be the rough copy of Fontenelle's,--and I always saw in
+the actor what the gentleman would be if he continued to live as he was
+doing. Miraudin, whose amours are a disgrace, EVEN to the
+stage!--Miraudin, who in his position of actor-manager, takes
+despicable advantage of all the poor ignorant, struggling creatures who
+try to get into his company, and whose vain little heads are turned by
+a stray compliment,--and to think that the Marquis Fontenelle should be
+merely the better-born copy of so mean a villain! Ah, what useless
+tears I have shed about it,--how I have grieved and worried myself all
+in vain!--and now . . ."
+
+"Now he asks you to marry him," said Madame Bozier gently, "And you
+think it would be no use? You could not perhaps make him a better man?"
+
+"Neither I nor any woman could!" said Sylvie, "I do not believe very
+much in 'reforming' men, Katrine. If they need to reform, they must
+reform themselves. We make our own lives what they are."
+
+"Dear little philosopher!" said Madame Bozier tenderly, taking Sylvie's
+small white hand as it hung down from her shoulder and kissing it, "You
+are very depressed to-day! You must not take things so seriously! If
+you do not love the Marquis as you once did--"
+
+"As I once did--ah, yes!" said Sylvie, "I did love him. I thought he
+could not be otherwise than great and true and noble-hearted--but--"
+
+She broke off with a sigh.
+
+"Well, and now that you know he is not the hero you imagined him, all
+you have to do is to tell him so," said the practical Bozier
+cheerfully, "Or if you do not want to pain him by such absolute
+candour, give him his refusal as gently and kindly as you can."
+
+Sylvie sighed again.
+
+"I am very sorry," she said, "If I could have foreseen this--perhaps--"
+
+"But did you not foresee it?" asked Madame Bozier persistently, "Did
+you not realize that men always want what they cannot have--and that
+the very fact of your leaving Paris increased his ardour and sent him
+on here in pursuit?"
+
+Sylvie Hermenstein was of a very truthful nature, and she had not
+attempted to deny this suggestion.
+
+"Yes--I confess I did think that if I separated myself altogether from
+him it might induce him to put himself in a more honourable position
+with me--but I did not know then--" she paused, and a deep flush
+crimsoned her cheeks.
+
+"Did not know what?" queried Madame Bozier softly.
+
+Sylvie hesitated a moment, then spoke out bravely.
+
+"I did not know then that I should meet another man whose existence
+would become ten times more interesting and valuable to me than his!
+Yes, Katrine, I confess it! There is no shame in honesty! And so, to be
+true to myself, however much the Marquis might love me now, I could
+never be his wife."
+
+Madame Bozier was silent. She guessed her beloved pupil's heart's
+secret,--but she was too tactful to dwell upon the subject, and before
+the brief, half-embarrassed pause between them had ended, a servant
+entered, asking,
+
+"Will the Signora Contessa receive the Capitano Ruspardi?"
+
+Sylvie rose from her seat with a look of surprise.
+
+"Ruspardi?--I do not know the name."
+
+"The business is urgent;--the Capitano is the bearer of a letter to the
+Signora Contessa."
+
+"Remain with me, Katrine," said Sylvie after a pause,--then to the
+servant--"Show Captain Ruspardi in here."
+
+Another moment, and a young officer in the Italian uniform entered
+hurriedly,--his face was very pale,--and as the Comtesse Hermenstein
+received him in her own serene sweet manner which, for all its
+high-bred air had something wonderfully winning and childlike about it,
+his self-control gave way, and when after a profound salute he raised
+his eyes, she saw they were full of tears. Her heart began to beat
+violently.
+
+"You bring some bad news?" she asked faintly.
+
+"Madama, I beg you not to distress yourself--this letter--" and he held
+out a sealed envelope,--"was given to me specially marked, among
+others, by my friend, the Marquis Fontenelle--last right before--before
+he went to his death!"
+
+"His death!" echoed Sylvie, her eyes dilating with horror--"His death!
+What do you mean?"
+
+Madame Bozier came quickly to her side, and put a hand gently on her
+arm. But she did not seem to feel the sympathetic touch.
+
+"His death!" she murmured. And with trembling fingers she opened and
+read the last lines ever penned by her too passionate admirer.
+
+"SWEETEST SYLVIE! Dearest and purest of women! If you ever receive this
+letter I shall be gone beyond the reach of your praise or your blame.
+For it will not be given to you at all unless I am dead. Dead, dear
+Sylvie! That will be strange, will it not? To be lying quite still,
+cold and stiff, out of the reach of your pretty warm white
+arms,--deprived for ever and ever of any kiss from your rose-red
+lips,--ah, Sylvie, it will be very cold and lonely! But perhaps better
+so! To-night I saw you, up in your balcony, with someone who is a brave
+and famous man, and who no doubt loves you. For he cannot fail to love
+you, if he knows you. God grant you may be happy when I am gone! But I
+want you to feel that to-night--to-night _I_ love you!--love you as I
+have never loved you or any woman before--without an evil
+thought,--without a selfish wish!--to the very height and breadth of
+love, I love you, my queen, my rose, my saving grace of
+sweetness!--whose name I shall say to God as my best prayer for pardon,
+if I die to-night!
+
+FONTENELLE."
+
+Sylvie shuddered as with icy cold . . . a darkness seemed to overwhelm
+her . . . she staggered a little, and Ruspardi caught her,
+wondering--at the lightness and delicacy and beauty of her, as he
+assisted Madame Bozier to lead her to a deep fauteuil where she sank
+down, trembling in every nerve.
+
+"And--he is dead?" she asked mechanically.
+
+Ruspardi bowed a grave assent. She paused a moment--then forced herself
+to speak again.
+
+"How did it happen?"
+
+In brief, concise words Ruspardi gave the account of the quarrel with
+Miraudin,--and Sylvie shrank back as though she had received a blow
+when she heard that her name had been the cause of the dispute.
+
+"And this morning, hearing no news," continued Ruspardi, "I made
+enquiries at the theatre. There I found everything in confusion;
+Miraudin and a soubrette named Jeanne Richaud, had left Rome the
+previous evening so the box-keeper said, and there was no news of
+either of them beyond a note from the girl saying she had returned
+alone to Paris by the first morning train. Nothing had been heard of
+Miraudin himself;--I therefore, knowing all the circumstances, drove
+out to the Campagna by the Porte Pia, the way that Miraudin had gone,
+and the way I bade the Marquis follow;--but on the Ponte Nomentano I
+met some of the Miserecordia carrying two corpses on the same
+bier,--two corpses so strangely alike that they might almost have been
+brothers!--they were the bodies of the Marquis Fontenelle
+and,--Miraudin!"
+
+Sylvie uttered a low cry and covered her face with her hands.
+
+"Miraudin!" exclaimed Madame Bozier in horrified tones. "Miraudin! Is
+he killed also?"
+
+"Yes, Madame! Both shots must have been fired with deadly aim. They had
+no seconds. Miraudin had hired a common fiacre to escape in from the
+city, and the police will offer a reward for the discovery of the
+driver. My horse, which my unfortunate friend Fontenelle rode, is gone,
+and if it could be discovered, its possessor might furnish a clue;--but
+I imagine it will be difficult, if not impossible to trace the
+witnesses of the combat. The woman Richaud is on her way to Paris. But
+by this time all Rome knows of the death of Miraudin; and in a few
+hours all the world will know!"
+
+"And what of the Marquis Fontenelle?" asked Madame Bozier.
+
+"Madama, I posted all the letters he entrusted to my charge. The one I
+have brought to the Contessa was enclosed in an envelope to me and
+marked 'To be personally delivered in case of my death.' But among the
+letters for the post was one to the Marquis's only sister, the Abbess
+of a convent in Paris--she will probably claim her brother's remains."
+
+He was silent. After a pause Sylvie rose unsteadily, and detached a
+cluster of violets she wore at her neck.
+
+"Will you--" her voice faltered.
+
+But Ruspardi understood, and taking the flowers, respectfully kissed
+the little hand that gave them.
+
+"They shall be buried with him," he said. "His hand was clenched in
+death on a small knot of lace--you perhaps might recognise
+it,--yes?--so!--it shall be left as it was found."
+
+And,--his melancholy errand being done,--he bowed profoundly once more,
+and retired.
+
+Sylvie gazed around her vaguely,--the letter of her dead admirer
+grasped in her hand,--and his former letter, proposing marriage, lying
+still open on the table. Her old gouvernante watched her anxiously, the
+tears rolling down her cheeks.
+
+"You are crying, Katrine!" she said, "And yet you knew him very
+little,--he never loved you! I wish--I wish MY tears would come! But
+they are all here--aching and hurting me--"and she pressed her hand to
+her heart--"You see--when one is a woman and has been loved by a man,
+one cannot but feel sorry--for such an end! You see he was not
+altogether cruel!--he defended my name--and he has died for my sake!
+For my sake!--Oh, Katrine! For MY sake! So he DID love me--at the last!
+. . . and I--I--Oh, Katrine!--I wish--I wish the tears would come!"
+
+And as she spoke she reeled--and uttering a little cry like that of a
+wounded bird, dropped senseless.
+
+
+
+
+XXV.
+
+The death of the famous actor Miraudin was a nine days' wonder, and
+about a three weeks' regret. He had made no reputation beyond that of
+the clever Mime,--he was not renowned for scholarship,--he had made no
+mark in dramatic literature,--and his memory soon sank out of sight in
+the whirling ocean of events as completely as though he had never
+existed. There was no reality about him, and as a natural consequence
+he went the way of all Shams. Had even his study of his art been
+sincere and high--had he sought for the best, the greatest, and most
+perfect work, and represented that only to the public, the final
+judgment of the world might perhaps have given him a corner beside
+Talma or Edmund Kean,--but the conceit of him, united to an illiterate
+mind, was too great for the tolerance of the universal Spirit of things
+which silently in the course of years pronounces the last verdict on a
+man's work. Only a few of his own profession remembered him as one who
+might have been great had he not been so little;--and a few women
+laughed lightly, recalling the legion of his "amours", and said, "Ce
+pauvre coquin, Miraudin!" That was all. And for the mortal remains of
+Guy Beausire de Fontenelle, there came a lady, grave and pale, clothed
+in deep black, with the nun's white band crossing her severe and
+tranquil brows,--and she, placing a great wreath of violets fresh
+gathered from the Pamphili woods, and marked, "In sorrow, from Sylvie
+Hermenstein", on the closed coffin, escorted her melancholy burden back
+to Paris, where in a stately marble vault, to the solemn sound of
+singing, and amid the flare of funeral tapers, with torn battle banners
+drooping around his bier, and other decaying fragments of chivalry, the
+last scion of the once great house of Fontenelle was laid to rest with
+his fathers. Little did the austere Abbess, who was the chief mourner
+at these obsequies, guess that the actor Miraudin, whose grave had been
+hastily dug in Rome, had also a right to be laid in the same marble
+vault;--proud and cold and stern as her heart had grown through long
+years of pain and disappointment, it is possible that had she known
+this, her sufferings might have been still more poignant. But the
+secret had died with the dead so far as the world went;--there remained
+but the Eternal Record on which the bond of brotherhood was
+inscribed,--and in that Eternal Record some of us do our best not to
+believe, notwithstanding the universal secret dread that we shall all
+be confronted with it at last.
+
+Meanwhile, events were moving rapidly, and the net of difficult
+circumstance was weaving itself round the good Cardinal Bonpre in a
+manner that was strangely perplexing to his clear and just mind. He had
+received a letter from Monsignor Moretti, worded in curtly civil terms,
+to the effect that as the Cardinal's miracle of healing had been
+performed in France, he, as on Vatican service in Paris, found it his
+duty to enquire thoroughly into all the details. For this cause, he,
+Monsignor Moretti, trusted it would suit the Cardinal's convenience to
+remain in Rome till the return of Monsieur Claude Cazeau, secretary to
+the Archbishop of Rouen, who had been despatched back to that city on
+the business connected with this affair. Thus Monsignor Moretti;--and
+Cardinal Bonpre, reading between the lines of his letter, knew that the
+displeasure of Rome had fallen upon him as heavily as it did upon the
+eloquent and liberal-minded Padre Agostino when he made the mistake of
+asking a blessing from Heaven on the King and Queen of Italy for their
+works of charity among the poor. And he easily perceived where the real
+trouble lay,--namely, in the fact of his having condoned the Abbe
+Vergniaud's public confession. Out of the one thing there was an effort
+being made to contrive mischief with the other,--and Bonpre, being too
+frail and old to worry his brain with complex arguments as to the how
+and why and wherefore of the machinations carried on at the Vatican,
+resigned himself to God, and contenting his mind with meditation and
+prayer, waited events patiently, caring little how they ended for
+himself, provided they did not involve others in any catastrophe.
+Moreover, there was a certain consolation contained in his enforced
+waiting,--for his niece Angela had confided to him that the work of her
+great picture had advanced more swiftly than she had imagined possible,
+and that it was likely she would be able to show it to her relatives
+and private friends in the course of a week or so.
+
+"But Florian must see it first," she said, "Of course you know that!
+Florian must always be first!"
+
+"Yes," and the Cardinal stroked her hair tenderly, while his eyes
+rested on her with rather a troubled look--"Yes--of course--Florian
+first. I suppose he will always be first with you, Angela?--after God?"
+
+"Always!" she answered softly, "Always--after God!"
+
+And Felix Bonpre sighed--he knew not why--except that he was always
+sorry for women who loved men with any very great exaltation or
+devotion. That curiously tender adoration of a true woman's heart which
+is so often wasted on an unworthy object, seemed to him like lifting a
+cup of gold to a swine's snout. He found no actual fault with Florian
+Varillo,--he was just a man as men go, with nothing very pronounced
+about him, except a genius for fine mosaic-like painting. He was not a
+great creator, but he was a delicate and careful artist,--a man against
+whom nothing particular could be said, except perhaps that his manner
+was often artificial, and that his conduct was not always sincere. But
+he had a power of fascinating the opposite sex,--and Angela had fallen
+a willing victim to his candid smile, clear eyes, charming voice, and
+courteous ways,--and with that strange inconsistency so common to
+gifted women, she was so full of "soul" and "over-soul" herself, that
+she could not imagine "soul" lacking in others;--and never dreamed of
+making herself sure that it elevated the character or temperament of
+the man she loved.
+
+ "Alas, the love of women! it is known
+ To be a lovely and a fearful thing;
+ For all of theirs upon that die is thrown
+ And, if 'tis lost, life hath no more to bring!"
+ [Footnote: Byron]
+
+During the time that matters were thus pending in Rome, Claude Cazeau,
+well satisfied with himself, and the importance of being entrusted with
+a special message from the Vatican to the Archbishop of Rouen, returned
+to the Normandy capital with many ambitious speculations rife in his
+brain, and schemes for improving the position of confidence with which
+he had, by the merest chance, and the fluctuations of the Pope's
+hunxour, been suddenly thrust. He took the Patoux family by surprise on
+the evening of his arrival in Rouen, and much to his secret
+satisfaction found Martine Doucet in their company. The children were
+gone to bed, and the appearance of Cazeau in Papa Patoux's kitchen was
+evidently not altogether the most agreeable circumstance that could
+have happened at the Hotel Poitiers. He was civilly received, however,
+and when he expressed his pleasure at seeing Madame Doucet present,
+that worthy female lifted her eyes from her knitting and gave him a
+suspicious glance of exceeding disfavour.
+
+"I do not see what pleasure my company can give you, Monsieur," she
+said curtly, "I am only a poor marketwoman!"
+
+"But you have been singularly favoured by the protection and confidence
+of a great Cardinal,--" began Cazeau.
+
+"Protection--confidence--!" echoed Martine snappishly, "Nom de Jesus!
+What is the man talking about! I never set eyes on the Cardinal in my
+life. But that he cured my Fabien is enough to make me think of him as
+a saint for ever,--though it seems there are some that would almost
+make him out to be a devil for having done a good deed! And ever since
+my boy was cured I have lived a life of torture and trouble--yes,
+truly!--torn between two things, our Blessed Lord and the Church! But I
+am trying my best to keep fast hold of our Lord, whatever the Church
+may do to me!"
+
+"Dear me!" said Cazeau blandly, turning with a smile and propitiatory
+air to Patoux who sat silently smoking, "Madame Doucet seems a
+little--what shall we say?--unduly excited? Yet surely the recovery of
+her child should fill her with thanksgiving and make her a faithful and
+devout servant--" "Pardon, Monsieur," interrupted Madame Patoux,
+"Believe me, Martine is thankful enough, and devout enough,--but truly
+it has been very hard for her to suffer the things that have been said
+to her of late,--how that the child could never have been really
+crippled at all, but simply shamming,--how that it was all a trick got
+up between herself and the priests for the purpose of bringing visitors
+and their money to Rouen,--for of course since the miracle was noised
+abroad there have been many pilgrimages to Notre Dame, it having got
+about that there was some mysterious spirit or angel in one of the
+shrines,--for look you, our Archbishop, when he came to visit the
+Cardinal here in this very hotel, distinctly remembers that His
+Eminence assured him he had heard strange music in the Cathedral, when
+truly there was no organ unlocked, and no organist on duty,--and then
+there was something about the boy that His Eminence found lost that
+night . . ."
+
+"Stop! Stop!" said Cazeau, growing impatient, "Your eloquence is so
+impressive, Madame, and you say so much that is excellent in one
+breath, that you must pardon my inferior capacity in not being able to
+follow you quite coherently! There are conflicting statements, you
+say--"
+
+"No, there are none," said Patoux himself, drawing his pipe out of his
+mouth slowly, and looking intently at its well-sucked stem--"It is all
+the same sort of thing. A child is sick--a child is cured--and it is
+either God or the Devil who has done it. Some people prefer to think it
+is the Devil,--some give the praise to God. It was exactly like that
+whenever our Lord did a good deed. Half the folks said he was God,--the
+other half that he had a devil. Jerusalem was like Rouen, Rouen is like
+Jerusalem. Jerusalem was ancient and wicked; Rouen is modern and
+wickeder,--that's all! As for music in the church, we have only the
+Archbishop's warrant that the Cardinal ever said anything about hearing
+music."
+
+"'ONLY' the Archbishop's warrant!" echoed Cazeau meaningly.
+
+"I said 'ONLY', Monsieur!--Make the best of it!" answered Patoux,
+sticking his pipe into his mouth again, and resuming his smoke with
+undisturbed tranquillity.
+
+Cazeau hummed and hawed,--he was irritated yet vaguely amused too at
+the singular self-assertion of these common folk who presumed to take
+their moral measurement of an Archbishop! It is a strange fact, but
+these same common folk always DO take these sorts of measurements.
+
+"The inconsistencies--(if there are any--) in the story will soon be
+cleared up," he said, with a benevolent assumption of authority, "At
+least, I hope so! I am glad to say that I am entrusted with a message
+to the Archbishop from our Holy Father, the Pope,--and I have also His
+Holiness's instructions to request you, Madame Doucet, together with
+your son Fabien, to accompany me back to Rome!"
+
+Martine Doucet bounced up from her chair, and let fall her knitting.
+
+"Me--me!" she cried, "ME go to Rome! Never! Wild horses will not drag
+me there, nor shall you take my Fabien either! What should I do in
+Rome?"
+
+"Testify personally to the truth of the Cardinal's miracle," answered
+Cazeau, gazing coldly at her excited face as though he saw something
+altogether strange and removed from human semblance. "And bring your
+child into the Holy Presence and relate his history. It will be nothing
+but an advantage to you,--for you will obtain a patient hearing, and
+the priceless boon of the Papal benediction!"
+
+"Grand merci!" said Martine, "But I have lived more than half my time
+without the Papal benediction, and I can work out the rest of my days
+in the same way! Look you!--there is a great English Duke I am told,
+who has an only son sorely afflicted, and he has taken this son to
+every place in the world where the Church is supposed to work miracles
+for the healing of the sick and the helpless,--all to no use, for the
+poor boy is as sick and helpless as ever. How is that? What has the
+Papal benediction done for him?"
+
+"Woman, your tongue overrules your senses!" said Cazeau, with rising
+temper, "You rail against the Church like an ungrateful heathen, even
+though you owe your son's recovery to the Church! For what is Cardinal
+Bonpre but a Prince of the Church?"
+
+Martine stuck her arms akimbo, and surveyed him disdainfully.
+
+"OH--HE!" she cried, "My tongue overrules my senses, Monsieur Clause
+Cazeau! Take care that your cunning does not overrule yourself! Did I
+ever deny the worth and the goodness of Cardinal Bonpre? Though if I
+were to speak the whole truth, and if I were to believe the
+nonsense-talk of a child, I should perhaps give the credit of the
+miracle to the stray boy whom the Cardinal found outside the Cathedral
+door--"Cazeau started--"For Fabien says that he began to feel strong
+the moment that little lad touched him!"
+
+"The boy!" exclaimed Cazeau--"The boy!"
+
+A curious silence ensued. Jean Patoux lifting his drowsy eyes gazed
+fixedly at the whitewashed ceiling,--Madame, his wife, stood beside him
+watching the changes on Cazeau's yellow face--and Martine sat down to
+take breath after her voluble outburst.
+
+"The boy!" muttered Cazeau again--then he broke into a harsh laugh.
+
+"What folly!" he exclaimed, "As if a little tramp of the streets could
+have anything to do with a Church miracle! Martine Doucet, if you were
+to say such a thing at the Vatican--"
+
+"_I_ have not said it," said Martine angrily, "I only told you what my
+Fabien says. I am not answerable for the thoughts of the child! That he
+is well and strong--that he has the look and the soul of an angel, is
+enough for me to praise God all my life. But I shall never say the Laus
+Deo at the Vatican,--you will have no chance to trap me in that way!"
+
+Cazeau stared at her haughtily.
+
+"You must be mad!" he said, "No one wishes to 'trap' you, as you
+express it! The miracle of healing performed on your child is a very
+remarkable one,--it should not be any surprise to you that the Head of
+the Church seeks to know all the details of it thoroughly, in order to
+ratify and confirm it, and perhaps bestow new honour on the eminent
+Cardinal--"
+
+"I rather doubt that!" interposed Patoux slowly, "For I gather from our
+Archbishop that the Holy Father was suspicious of some trick rather
+than an excess of sanctity!"
+
+Cazeau reddened through his pallid skin.
+
+"I know nothing of that!" he said curtly, "But my orders are
+imperative, and I shall seek the assistance of the Archbishop to
+enforce and carry them out! For the moment I have the honour to wish
+you good-night, Monsieur Patoux!--and you also, Mesdames!"
+
+And he departed abruptly, in an anger which he was at no pains to
+disguise. Personally he cared nothing about the miracle or how it had
+been accomplished, but he cared very much for his own advancement,--and
+he saw, or thought he saw, a chance of very greatly improving his
+position among the ecclesiastical authorities if he only kept a cool
+head and a clear mind. He recognised that there was a desire on the
+part of the Pope to place Cardinal Bonpre under close observance and
+restraint on account of his having condoned the Abbe Vergniaud's
+confession to his congregation in Paris; and he rightly judged that
+anything he could do to aid the accomplishment of that end would not be
+without its reward. And the few words which Martine Doucet had let drop
+concerning the stray boy who now lived under the Cardinal's protection,
+had given him a new idea which he resolved to act upon when he returned
+to Rome. For it was surely very strange that an eminent Prince of the
+Church should allow himself to be constantly attended by a little tramp
+rescued from the street! There was something in it more than
+common,--and Cazeau decided that he would suggest a close enquiry being
+made on this point.
+
+Crossing the square opposite the Hotel Poitiers, he hesitated before
+turning the corner of the street which led towards the avenue where the
+Archbishop's house was situated. The night was fine and calm--the air
+singularly balmy,--and he suddenly decided to take a stroll by the
+river before finally returning to his rooms for the night. There is one
+very quiet bit of the Seine in Rouen where the water flows between
+unspoilt grassy banks, which in summer are a frequent resort for lovers
+to dream the dreams which so often come to nothing,--and here Cazeau
+betook himself to smoke and meditate on the brilliancy of his future
+prospects. The river had been high in flood during the week, and the
+grass which sloped towards the water was still wet, and heavy to the
+tread. But Cazeau limited his walk to the broad summit of the bank,
+being aware that the river just below flowed over a muddy quicksand,
+into which, should a man chance to fall, it would be death and fast
+burial at one and the same moment. And Cazeau set a rather exorbitant
+value on his own life, as most men do whose lives are of no sort of
+consequence to the world. So he was careful to walk where there was the
+least danger of slipping,--and as he lit an excellent cigar, and puffed
+the faint blue rings of smoke out into the clear moonlit atmosphere, he
+was in a very agreeable frame of mind. He was crafty and clever in his
+way,--one of those to whom the Yankee term "cute" would apply in its
+fullest sense,--and he had the happy knack of forgetting his own
+mistakes and follies, and excusing his own sins with as much ease as
+though he were one of the "blood-royal" of nations. Vices he had in
+plenty in common with most men,--except that his particular form of
+licentiousness was distinguished by a callousness and cruelty in which
+there was no touch of redeeming quality. As a child he had loved to
+tear the wings off flies and other insects, and one of his keenest
+delights in boyhood had been to watch the writhings of frogs into whose
+soft bodies he would stick long pins,--the frogs would live under this
+treatment four and five hours--sometimes longer, and while observing
+their agonies he enjoyed "that contented mind which is a perpetual
+feast." Now that he was a man, he delighted in torturing human beings
+after the same methods applied mentally, whenever he could find a
+vulnerable part through which to thrust a sharp spear of pain.
+
+"The eminent Cardinal Bonpre!" he mused now; "What is he to me! If I
+could force the Archbishop of Rouen into high favour at the Vatican
+instead of this foolish old Saint Felix, it would be a better thing for
+my future. After all, it was at Rouen that the miracle was
+performed--the city should have some credit! And Bonpre has condoned a
+heretic . . . he is growing old and feeble--possibly he is losing his
+wits. And then there is that boy . . ."
+
+He started violently as a fantastic shadow suddenly crossed his path,
+in the moonlight, and a peal of violent laughter assailed his ears.
+
+"Enfin! Toi, mon Claude!--enfin!--Grace a Dieu! Enfin!"
+
+And the crazed creature, known as Marguerite, "La Folle", stood before
+him, her long black hair streaming over her bare chest and gaunt arms,
+her eyes dilated, and glowing with the mingled light of madness and
+despair.
+
+Cazeau turned a livid white in the moon-rays;--his blood grew icy cold.
+What! After two years of dodging about the streets of Rouen to avoid
+meeting this wretched woman whom he had tricked and betrayed, had she
+found him at last!
+
+"When did you come back from the fair?" cried the girl shrilly, "I lost
+you there, you know-and you man-aged to lose ME--but I have
+waited!--waited patiently for news of you! . . . and when none came, I
+still waited, making myself beautiful! . . . see!--" And she thrust her
+fingers through her long hair, throwing it about in wilder disorder
+than ever. "You thought you had killed me--and you were glad!--it makes
+all men glad to kill women when they can! But I--I was not killed so
+easily,--I have lived!--for this night--just for this night! Listen!"
+and she sprang forward and threw herself violently against his breast,
+"Do you love me now? Tell me again--as you told me at the fair--you
+love me?"
+
+He staggered under her weight--and tried for a moment to thrust her
+back, but she held him in a grip of iron, looking up at him with her
+great feverish dark eyes, and grasping his shoulders with thin burning
+hands. He trembled;--he was beginning to grow horribly afraid. What
+devil had sent this woman whom he had ruined so long as two years ago,
+across his path to-night? Would it be possible to soothe her?
+
+"Marguerite--" he began.
+
+"Yes, yes, Marguerite! Say it again!" she cried wildly, "Marguerite!
+Say it again! Sweet--sweet and tenderly as you said it then! Poor
+Marguerite! Your pale ugly face seemed the face of a god to her once,
+because she thought you loved her--we all find men so beautiful when we
+think they love us! Yes--your cold eyes and cruel lips and hard
+brow!--it was quite a different face at the fair! So was mine a
+different face--but you!--YOU have made mine what it is now!--look at
+it! What!--you thought you could murder a woman and never be found out!
+You thought you could kill poor Marguerite, and that no one would ever
+know--"
+
+"Hush, hush!" said Cazeau, his teeth chattering with the cold of his
+inward terror, "I never killed you, Marguerite!--I loved you--yes,
+listen!" For she was looking up at him with an attentive, almost sane
+expression in her eyes. "I meant to write to you after the fair,--and
+come to you . . ."
+
+"Hush, hush!" said the girl, "Let me hear this!--this is strange news!
+He meant to write to me--yet he let me die by inches in an agony of
+waiting!--till I dropped into the darkness where I am now! He meant to
+come to me--oh, it was very easy to come if he had chosen to
+come,--before I wandered away into all this strangeness--this
+shadow--this confusion and fire! But you see, it is too late now," and
+she began to laugh again, "Too late! I have a strange idea that I am
+dead, though I seem alive--I am in my grave; and so you must die also
+and be buried with me! Yes, you must certainly die!--when one is cruel
+and false and treacherous one is not wanted in the world!--better to go
+out of it--and it is quite easy,--see!--this way!--"
+
+And before he realised her intention she sprang back a step--then drew
+a knife from her bosom, and with a sort of exultant shriek, stabbed him
+furiously once--twice--thrice . . . crying out--"This for your lie!
+This for my sorrow!--This for your love!--"
+
+Reeling back with the agony of her murderous blows he made a fierce
+effort to tear the knife from her hands, but she suddenly threw it a
+long way from her towards the river, where it fell with a light splash,
+and rushing at him twined her arms close about his neck, while her mad
+laughter, piercing and terrible, rang out through the quiet air.
+
+"Together!" she said, "That day at the fair we were together, and
+now--we shall be together again! Come!--Come! I have waited long
+enough!--your promised letter never came--you have kept me waiting a
+long long while--but now I will wait no longer! I have found you!--I
+will never let you go!"
+
+Furiously, despite his wounds, he fought with her,--tried to thrust her
+away from him,--and beat her backwards and downwards,--but she had the
+strength of ten women in her maddened frame, and she clung to him with
+the tenacity of some savage beast. All around them was perfectly
+quiet,--there was not a soul in sight,--there was no place near where a
+shout for help could have been heard. Struggling still, dizzy, blind
+and breathless, he did not see that they were nearing the edge of the
+slippery bank--all his efforts were concentrated in an endeavour to
+shake off the infuriated creature, made more powerful in her very
+madness by the just sense of her burning wrong and his callous
+treachery--when all at once his foot slipped and he fell to the ground.
+She pounced on him like a tigress, and fastened her fingers on his
+throat,--clutching his flesh and breathlessly muttering,
+"Never!--never! Never can you hide away from me any more!
+Together--together! I will never let you go!--" till, as his eyes
+rolled up in agony and his jaw relaxed, she uttered a shout of ecstasy
+to see him die! He sank heavily under her fierce grasp which she never
+relaxed for an instant, and his dead weight dragged her unconsciously
+down--down!--she not heeding or knowing whither she was
+moving,--down--still down!--till, as she clung to his inert body, madly
+determining not to let it go, she fell,--fast grappling her betrayer's
+corpse,--into the ominous stillness of the river. The flood opened, as
+it were, to receive the two,--the dead and the living--there was a
+slight ripple as though a mouth in the water smiled--then the usual
+calm surface reflected the moon once more, and there was no sign of
+trouble. Nothing struggled,--nothing floated,--all was perfectly
+tranquil. The bells chimed from all the churches in the city a quarter
+to midnight, and their pretty echoes were wafted across the water,--no
+other sound disturbed the silence,--not a trace of the struggle was
+left, save just one smeared track of grass and slime, which, if
+examined carefully, might have been found sprinkled with blood. But
+with the morning the earth would have swallowed those drops of human
+life as silently as the river-quicksand had sucked down the bodies of
+the betrayed and the betrayer;--in neither case would Nature have any
+hint to give of the tragedy enacted. Nature is a dumb witness to many
+dramas,--and it may be that she has eyes and ears and her own way of
+keeping records. Sometimes she gives up long-buried secrets, sometimes
+she holds them fast;--biding her time until the Judgment Day, when not
+only the crime shall be disclosed but the Cause of the crime's
+committal. And it may chance in certain cases, such as those of men who
+have deliberately ruined the lives of trusting and loving women, that
+the Cause may be proved a more criminal thing than the crime!
+
+That night Martine Doucet slept badly, and had horrible dreams of being
+dragged by force to Rome, and there taken before the Pope who at once
+deprived her of her son Fabien, and ordered her to be shot in one of
+the public squares for neglecting to attend Mass regularly. And Jean
+Patoux and his wife, reposing on their virtuous marital couch,
+conversed a long time about the unexpected and unwelcome visit of
+Claude Cazeau, and the mission he had declared himself entrusted with
+from the Vatican,--"And you may depend upon it," said Madame
+sententiously, "that he will get his way by fair means or foul! I am
+thankful that neither of OUR children were subjects for a
+Church-miracle!--the trouble of the remedy seems more troublesome than
+the sickness!"
+
+"No, no," said her husband, "Thou dost not judge these things rightly,
+my little one! God worked the remedy, as He works all good things,--and
+there would be no trouble about it if it were not for the men's strange
+way of taking it. Did ever our Lord do a good or a kind deed without
+being calumniated for it? Did not all those men-fools in Jerusalem go
+about 'secretly seeking how they might betray him'? That is a lesson
+for us all,--and never forget, petite, that for showing them the
+straight way to Heaven He was crucified!"
+
+The next day a telegram was despatched from the Archbishop of Rouen to
+Monsignor Moretti at the Vatican:--
+
+"Claude Cazeau visited Hotel Poitiers last night, but has since
+mysteriously disappeared. Every search and enquiry being made. Strongly
+suspect foul play."
+
+
+
+
+XXVI.
+
+November was now drawing to a close, and St. Cecilia's Day dawned in a
+misty sunrise, half cloud, half light, like smoke and flame
+intermingled. Aubrey Leigh, on waking that morning, had almost decided
+to leave Rome before the end of the month. He had learned all that was
+necessary for him to know;--he had not come to study the antiquities,
+or the dark memories of dead empires, for he would have needed to live
+at least ten years in the city to gain even a surface knowledge of all
+the Romes, built one upon another, in the Rome of to-day. His main
+object had been to discover whether the Holy See existed as a grand and
+pure institution for the uplifting and the saving of the souls of men;
+or whether it had degenerated into an unscrupulous scheme for drawing
+the money out of their pockets. He had searched this problem and solved
+it. He had perceived the trickery, the dissimulation and hypocrisy of
+Roman priestcraft. He had seen the Pope officiate at High Mass in the
+Sistine Chapel, having procured the "introduction from very high
+quarters" which, even according to ordinary guide-books, is absolutely
+necessary,--the "high quarters" in this instance being Monsignor
+Gherardi. Apart from this absurdity,--this impious idea of needing an
+"introduction" to a sacred service professedly held for the worship of
+the Divine, by the Representative of Christ on earth, he had watched
+with sickening soul all the tawdry ceremonial so far removed from the
+simplicity of Christ's commands,--he had stared dully, till his brows
+ached, at the poor, feeble, scraggy old man with the pale, withered
+face and dark eyes, who was chosen to represent a "Manifestation of the
+Deity" to his idolatrous followers;--and as he thought of all the
+poverty, sorrow, pain, perplexity, and bewilderment of the "lost sheep"
+who were wandering to and fro in the world, scarcely able to fight the
+difficulties of their daily lot, and unable to believe in God because
+they were never allowed to understand or to experience any of His
+goodness, such a passion of protest arose in him, that he could have
+sprung on the very steps of the altar and cried aloud to the aged
+Manager of the Stage-scene there, "Away with this sham of Christianity!
+Give us the true message of Christ, undefiled! Sell these useless
+broidered silks,--these flaunting banners;--take the silver, gold, and
+bank-notes which hysterical pilgrims cast at your feet!--this Peter's
+Pence, amounting to millions, whose exact total you alone know,--and
+come out into the highways and byways of the cities of all lands,--call
+to you the lame, the halt, the blind, the sickly, and diseased,--give
+comfort where comfort is needed,--defend the innocent--protect the
+just, and silence the Voce de la Verita which published under your
+authority, callously advocates murder!"
+
+And though he felt all this, he could only remain a dumb spectator of
+the Show in which not the faintest shadow of Christianity according to
+Christ, appeared--and when the theatrical pageant was over, he hurried
+out into the fresh air half stupefied with the heavy sense of shame
+that such things could be, and no man found true enough to the commands
+of the Divine Master to shake the world with strong condemnation.
+
+"Twelve fishermen were enough to preach the Gospel," he thought, "Yet
+now there cannot be found twelve faithful souls who will protest
+against its falsification!"
+
+And on St. Cecilia's morning he was in sad and sober mood,--too vexed
+with himself to contemplate his future work without a sense of pain and
+disappointment and loneliness. He loved Sylvie Hermenstein, and
+admitted his passion for her frankly to his own soul, but at the same
+time felt that a union with her would be impossible. He had seen her
+nearly every day since their first introduction to each other, and had
+realised to the height of soul-intoxication the subtle charm of her
+delicate beauty, and the sweetness of her disposition. But--(there was
+a but in it,--there always is!) he was not sure of her constancy. The
+duel between the Marquis Fontenelle and the actor Miraudin had
+furnished food for gossip at all the social gatherings in Rome, and
+Sylvie's name, freely mentioned as the cause of the dispute, had been
+thus given an unpleasant notoriety. And though Aubrey Leigh was far too
+chivalrous and noble-natured to judge and condemn a woman without
+seeking for the truth from her own lips, he was indescribably annoyed
+to hear her spoken of in any connection with the late Marquis. He had a
+strong desire to ask Angela Sovrani a few questions concerning the
+affair, but hesitated, lest his keen personal anxiety should betray the
+depth of his feelings. Then, too, he was troubled by the fact that the
+Hermenstein family had been from time immemorial devout Romanists, and
+he felt that Sylvie must perforce be a firm adherent to that faith.
+
+"Better to leave Rome!" he said to himself, "Better to shake off the
+witchery of her presence, and get back to England and to work. And if I
+cannot kill or quell this love in me, at any rate it shall serve me to
+good purpose,--it shall make me a better and a braver man!"
+
+He had promised to meet the Princesse D'Agramont that morning at the
+Catacombs of St. Callistus, to see the illumination of the tomb of St.
+Cecilia, which takes place there annually on the Saint's Feast-Day, and
+he knew that Angela Sovrani and the Comtesse Hermenstein were to be of
+the Princesse's party. He was somewhat late in starting, and hired a
+fiacre to drive him along the Via Appia to his destination, but when he
+arrived there Mass had already commenced. A Trappist monk, tall and
+grim and forbidding of aspect, met him at the entrance to the Catacombs
+with a lighted taper, and escorted him in silence through the gloomy
+"Oratorium" and passage of tombs,--the torch he carried flinging
+ghastly reflections on the mural paintings and inscriptions, till, on
+reaching the tomb of St. Cecilia where the murdered saint once lay,
+though her remains are now enshrined in the Church of St. Cecilia in
+Trastevere, the Trappist suddenly left him at a corner to attend to
+other incoming visitors, and disappeared. Aubrey looked around him,
+vaguely touched and awed by the solemnity of the scene;--the damp walls
+on which old Byzantine paintings of the seventh century were still
+visible, though crumbling fast away,--the glimmering lights,--the
+little crowd of people pressed together,--the brilliantly illuminated
+altar,--the droning accents of the officiating priests;--and presently
+the sound of a boy's exquisite young voice rose high and pure, singing
+the Agnus Dei. St. Cecilia herself might have been enraptured by such
+sweet harmony,--and Aubrey Leigh instinctively bent his head, moved
+strongly by the holy and tender fervour of the anthem. Growing
+accustomed to the flickering lights, he presently perceived the
+Princesse D'Agramont a little in front of him,--and beside her were her
+two friends, Angela Sovrani and Sylvie Hermenstein. Sylvie was
+kneeling, and her face was hidden. Angela was seated,--and her eyes,
+full of the radiance of thought and dreaming genius, were fixed on the
+altar. Gradually he moved up till he reached the rough bench where they
+were all together--the Princesse D'Agramont saw him at once, and signed
+to him to take a vacant place next to Sylvie. He sat down very
+gently--afraid to disturb the graceful figure kneeling within touch of
+his hand--how devout she seemed, he thought! But as the Agnus Dei
+ceased, she stirred, and rose quietly,--as quietly as a bent flower
+might lift itself in the grass after the rush of the wind,--and gave
+him a gentle salute, then sat down beside him, drooping her soft eyes
+over her prayer-book, but not before he had seen that they were wet
+with tears. Was she unhappy he wondered? It seemed impossible! Such a
+woman could never be unhappy! With beauty, health, and a sunny
+temperament,--wealth and independence, what could she know of sorrow!
+It is strange how seldom a man can enter into the true comprehension of
+a woman's grief, though he may often be the cause of the trouble. A
+woman, if endowed with beauty and charm, ought never, in a man's
+opinion, to LOOK sad, whatever she may FEEL. It is her business to
+smile, and shine like a sunbeam on a spring morning for his delectation
+always. And Aubrey Leigh, though he could thoroughly appreciate and
+enter into the sordid woes of hard-worked and poverty-stricken
+womankind, was not without the same delusion that seems to possess all
+his sex,--namely, that if a woman is brilliantly endowed, and has
+sufficient of this world's goods to ensure her plenty of friends and
+pretty toilettes, she need never be unhappy. Sylvie's tears were
+therefore a mystery to him, except when a jealous pang contracted his
+generally liberal and tender soul, and he thought, "Perhaps she is
+grieving for the Marquis Fontenelle!" He glanced at her every now and
+again dubiously,--while the service went on, and the exquisite music
+beat rhythmic waves against the ancient walls and roof of the murdered
+Saint's tomb,--but her face, fair and childlike, was a puzzle to his
+mind,--he could never make out from its expression whether she were
+thoughtful or frivolous. Strange mistakes are often made in
+physiognomy. Often the so-called "intellectual" face,--the
+"touch-me-not" dignity--the "stalking-tragedy" manner, covers a total
+lack of brain,--and often a large-featured, seemingly "noble" face, has
+served as a mask for untold depths of villainy. The delicate, small
+face of Nelson suggested nothing of the giant heroism in his nature,
+and many a pretty, and apparently frivolous woman's face, which
+suggests nothing but the most thoughtless gaiety, is a disguise for a
+strong nature capable of lofty and self-sacrificing deeds. There is
+nothing likely to be so deceptive as a human countenance,--for with the
+exception of a few uncomfortably sincere persons, we all try to make it
+disguise our feelings as much as we can.
+
+The service concluded, and St. Cecilia solemnly commended once more to
+her eternal rest, the people all rose and wandered like black ghosts,
+through the darkness of the Catacombs, following the flicker of the
+torches carried by the Trappist monks, who always perform the duty of
+guides on this occasion,--and, once out in the open air, in the full
+blaze of the sunshine which had now broken brilliantly through the mist
+of the previously threatening rain-clouds, Aubrey Leigh saw with pain
+that Sylvie looked very pale and ill. He ventured to say something
+solicitous concerning this to the Princesse D'Agramont, whose bright
+dark eyes flashed over him with an enigmatical look, half wonder, half
+scorn.
+
+"What strange creatures men are!" she said satirically, "Even you,
+clever, and gifted with an insight into human nature, seem to be
+actually surprised that our poor, pretty little Sylvie looks ill! With
+half Rome declaring that she WAS the mistress of Fontenelle, and the
+other half swearing itself black in the face that she IS the mistress
+of Gherardi, she certainly ought to be very happy, ought she not?
+Indeed, almost dancing with the joy and consolation of knowing how
+pleasant her 'Society' friends are making her life for her!"
+
+Aubrey's heart beat violently.
+
+"Princesse," he said, in a low tone of vibrating earnestness, "If I
+thought--if I could think such abominable lies were told of her . . ."
+
+"Chut!" And the Princesse smiled rather sadly,--"It is not like you to
+'pretend,' Mr. Leigh--You DO know,--you MUST know--that a coarse
+discussion over her name was the cause of the duel between the Marquis
+Fontenelle and that miserable vaurien of the stage, Miraudin,--gossip
+generously lays the two deaths at her door--and the poor child is as
+innocent of harm as the lilies we have just seen left to die in the
+darkness of St. Cecilia's tomb. The fact is, she came to Rome to escape
+the libertinage and amorous persecution of Fontenelle; and she never
+knew till the day she heard of his death, that he had followed her. Nor
+did I. In fact, I asked him to be my escort to Rome, and he refused.
+Naturally I imagined he was still in Paris. So we were all in the
+dark,--and as often happens in such cases, when the world does not know
+whom to blame for a disaster, it generally elects to punish the
+innocent. All the Saints we have heard about this morning, bear witness
+to THAT truth!"
+
+Aubrey lifted his eyes and looked yearningly at the sylph-like figure
+of Sylvie walking a little ahead of him with her friend Angela.
+
+"I thought," he said hesitatingly,--"I confess, I thought there might
+have been something between her and the late Marquis . . ."
+
+"Of course there was something!" answered the Princesse impatiently,
+"Oh, mon Dieu! Plus de sottises! There always IS something where Sylvie
+is, Mr. Leigh! She cannot smile or sing, or turn her head, or raise her
+eyes, or smell a bunch of violets, without some one of your audacious
+sex conceiving the idea of making himself agreeable and indispensable
+to her. And when she will not compromise herself--(is that not your
+convenient little phrase?)--she is judged much more severely than if
+she had done so! And do you know why? Because you men can never endure
+defeat in love-matters! You would rather spread abroad the rumour that
+you had conquered, than confess that your libertinism had been
+perceived and repulsed with indignation and scorn! And I will tell you
+another thing if you do not know it. In the frequent destruction of an
+innocent woman's reputation. it is a rejected suitor who generally
+starts the first rumour and hands the lie over to debased women,
+knowing that THEY may be trusted to keep it up!"
+
+Aubrey flushed, and winced under the lash of her cutting words. "You
+are very cruel, Princesse!" he said, "Surely unnecessarily bitterly
+cruel!"
+
+"Cher philosophe, I have loved!" she replied, "And that is why I am
+cruel. I have loved and have been deceived in love,--and that kind of
+thing often turns the most patient Griselda into an exceptionally
+fierce tiger-cat! I am not quite a tiger-cat,--but I confess I do not
+like one-sidedness in anything, Nature's tendency being to
+equalise--equalise--till we are all flattened down into one level,--the
+grave! At the present moment we are treading on a mixture of kings and
+saints and heroes,--all one soil you see, and rather marshy,--badly in
+need of draining at all times!" She laughed a little. "Frankly, I
+assure you, it is to me the most deplorable arrangement that a true
+woman should be destined to give all the passion and love of her life
+to one man, while the same man scatters his worthless affections about
+like halfpence among dozens of drabs! My dear Mr. Leigh, do not frown
+at me in that tragic way! I am not blaming YOU! I am not in the least
+inclined to put you in the general category,--at least not at present.
+You do not look like the ordinary man, though you may be for all that!
+Expression is very deceptive!" She laughed again, then added, "Think of
+our sweet Angela, for instance! Unless a merciful Providence
+intervenes, she will marry Florian Varillo,--and no doubt he will make
+her invite Mademoiselle Pon-Pon to her house to dine and sleep!"
+
+"She loves him!" said Aubrey simply.
+
+"Yes, she loves him, because she deludes herself with the idea that he
+is worthy of love. But if she were to find him out her whole soul would
+indignantly repulse him. If she knew all _I_ know of him, she would
+rather embrace the mildewy skeleton of San Carlo Borromeo, with the
+great jewels glistening in his ghastly eye-sockets, than the well-fed,
+fresh coloured Florian Varillo!"
+
+"If you fear for her happiness, why not warn her?" asked Aubrey.
+
+"Warn her against the one creature she loves in the world?" said the
+Princesse, "Thanks very much! I would rather not. She would never speak
+to me again, and I should lose every chance of comforting or helping
+her when affliction comes--as of course it is bound to come! Each
+individual man or woman makes his or her own life,--we poor 'friends'
+can only stand and look on, waiting till they get into the muddle that
+we have always foreseen, and then doing our best to drag them out of
+it; but God Himself I think, could not save them from falling into the
+muddle in the first place. As for Sylvie, I have advised her to leave
+Rome and go back to Budapest at once."
+
+Aubrey started.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Why? Can you ask? Because she is misjudged here on account of
+Fontenelle's death, and calumniated and wronged; because the women hate
+her for her beauty and wealth, and the men hate her too because she
+will not flatter them by accepting their ridiculous attentions. She
+will be much happier in her own home,--such a grand old castle it
+is!--a cluster of towers and broad battlements, with purple mountains
+in the background, and tall pine-trees everywhere . . ."
+
+"It must be lonely for her!" said Aubrey quickly, "She is so
+mignonne--so caressable--so made for love and care and tenderness--"
+Here he broke off, vexed with himself for having said so much,--and his
+face flushed warmly. The Princesse stopped in her walk and looked at
+him straightly.
+
+"Mr. Leigh," she said, "I think--I hope you are an honest man! And do
+you know the best advice I can give you?"
+
+He answered no word, but his eyes questioned her meaning.
+
+"Remain honest!" she said, smiling an answer to his look, "Be true to
+your own instincts and highest impulses. Do not allow yourself to be
+swayed by opinion or rumour; stand clear of both,--and treat even a
+woman as you would treat a man!--squarely--candidly--faithfully!"
+
+She moved on and rejoined her companions, and Aubrey followed. The
+Comtesse Hermenstein's carriage was waiting for her, and the Comtesse
+herself was just entering it with Angela Sovrani as he came up.
+
+"Good-bye, Mr. Leigh," she said gently, extending her hand, "I may not
+see you again perhaps. I am going home to Buda this week."
+
+"Must you go?" he asked, looking earnestly into the lovely eyes,
+lovelier than ever in their present sorrowful languor.
+
+"I think so," she answered, "I may wait to see Angela's great picture,
+but--"
+
+"Do not hurry your departure," said Aubrey, speaking in a softer
+tone--"Tell me--may I come and see you this evening,--just for a few
+moments?"
+
+His eyes rested on her tenderly, and at the passion of his glance her
+own fell.
+
+"If you like--yes," she murmured. And just then the Princesse
+D'Agramont approached.
+
+"May I drive you home, Mr. Leigh?" she asked.
+
+"Thank you!" And Aubrey smiled as he accepted the invitation.
+
+And presently the carriages started, Sylvie's light victoria leading,
+and the Princesse D'Agramont's landeau following. Half way back to Rome
+a picturesque little beggar, whose motley-coloured rags scarcely
+clothed his smooth brown limbs, suddenly sprang out of a corner where
+he had been in hiding with a great basket of violets, and threw the
+whole fragrant heap dexterously into Sylvie's carriage, crying out,
+
+"Bellissima Signora! Bellissima! Bellissima! Un soldo! Un soldo!"
+
+Laughingly Sylvie threw out four or five francs, but Aubrey, carried
+beyond all prudence by catching a glimpse of Sylvie's pretty head
+gleaming above the great purple cluster of violets she had caught and
+held, tossed a twenty-franc piece to the clever little rascal who had
+by "suiting the action to the word, and the word to the action" as
+Italians so often do, gained a week's earnings in one successful
+morning.
+
+And the evening came, misty but mild, with the moon peering doubtfully
+through a fleecy veil of fine floating vapour, which, gathering flashes
+of luminance from the silver orb, turned to the witch-lights of an
+opal,--and Aubrey made his way to the Casa D'Angeli, which in his own
+mind he called the "Palais D'lffry," in memory of the old Breton song
+Sylvie had sung. On giving his name he was at once shown up into the
+great salon, now made beautiful by the picturesque and precious things
+accumulated there, and arranged with the individuality and taste of the
+presiding spirit. She was quite alone, seated in a deep easy chair near
+the fire,--and her dress, of some faint shell-pink hue, clung about her
+in trailing soft folds which fell in a glistening heap of crushed
+rose-tints at her feet, making a soft rest for her tiny dog who was
+luxuriously curled therein. The firelight shed a warm glow around
+her,--flickering brightly on her fair hair, on her white arms, and
+small hands where one or two diamonds flashed like drops of dew,--and
+Aubrey, as he entered, was conscious of an overpowering sense of
+weakness, poverty of soul, narrowness of mind, incompetency of
+attainment,--for the tranquillity and sweet perfection of the picture
+his eyes rested upon--a picture lovelier than even the Gretchen which
+tempted Goethe's Faust to Hell,--made him doubtful of his own
+powers--mistrustful of his own worth. In his life of self-renunciation
+among the poorer classes, he had grown accustomed to pity women,--to
+look upon them more or less as frail, broken creatures needing help and
+support,--sometimes to be loved, but far more often to be despised and
+neglected. But Sylvie, Comtesse Hermenstein, was not of these,--he
+knew, or thought he knew that she needed nothing. Beauty was hers,
+wealth was hers, independence of position was hers; and if she had
+given a smile or nod of encouragement, lovers were hers to command.
+What was he that he should count himself at all valuable in her sight,
+even as the merest friend? These despondent thoughts were doubly
+embittered by the immense scorn he now entertained for himself that he
+should have been such a fool as to listen for a moment to the silly and
+malignant gossip circulated among the envious concerning a woman who
+was admittedly the superior of those who calumniated her. For clearest
+logic shows that wherever superiority exists, inferiority rises up in
+opposition, and the lower endeavours to drag the higher down. Such
+vague reflections, coursing rapidly through his, brain, gave him an air
+of embarrassment and awkwardness not by any means common to him, as he
+advanced, and Sylvie, half rising from her chair, greeted him in her
+turn with a little touch of shyness which sent a wave of soft colour
+over her face, and made her look ten times prettier than ever.
+
+"I am glad to find you alone--" he began.
+
+"Yes? I am generally alone," answered Sylvie with a little
+smile--"except for Katrine--she would be here to welcome you this
+evening, but she has a very bad neuralgic headache--"
+
+"I am very sorry," murmured Aubrey, with hypocritical earnestness, all
+the while devoutly blessing Madame Bozier's timely indisposition. "She
+is a great sufferer from neuralgia, I believe?"
+
+"Yes . . ." and Sylvie, to divert the cloud of embarrassment that
+seemed to be deepening rather than dispersing for them both, rang the
+bell with a pretty imperativeness that was rather startling to Aubrey's
+nerves.
+
+"What is that for?" he enquired irrelevantly.
+
+"Only for coffee!"
+
+Their eyes met,--the mutual glance was irresistible, and they both
+laughed. Sylvia's Arab page entered in response to her summons, a
+pretty dusky-skinned lad of some twelve years old, picturesquely
+arrayed in scarlet, and bearing a quaintly embossed gilt salver with
+coffee prepared in the Arabian fashion.
+
+"Do you like coffee made in this way?" asked Sylvie, as she handed
+Aubrey his cup.
+
+Aubrey's eyes were fixed on the small white hand that looked so dainty,
+curled over the trifle of Sevres china that was called a
+coffee-cup,--and he answered vaguely,
+
+"This way? Oh, yes--of course--any way!"
+
+A faint smile lifted the rosy corners of Sylvie's mouth as she heard
+this incoherent reply--and the Arab page rolled his dark eyes up at his
+fair mistress with a look of dog-like affectionate enquiry, as to
+whether perhaps some fault in his serving had caused that little
+playful enigmatical expression on the face which he, in common with
+many others of his sex, thought the fairest in the world. The coffee
+dispensed and the page gone, there followed a spell of silence. The
+fire burned cheerily in the deep chimney, and the great logs cracked
+and spluttered as much as to say, "If these two curious people can find
+nothing to talk about, we can!" And then, just as luck would have it, a
+burning ember suddenly detached itself from the rest and fell out
+blazing on the hearth--Sylvie sprang up to push it back, and Aubrey to
+assist her,--and then, strange to relate--only the occult influences of
+attraction know how it happened--the little difficulty of the burning
+ember brought those two other burning embers of humanity together--for
+Aubrey, hardly conscious of what he did, caught Sylvie's swaying,
+graceful figure as she rose from bending over the fire, closely in his
+arms, with a passion which mounted like a wave to tempest height, and
+knew no further hesitation or obstacle.
+
+"Sylvie! Sylvie! I love you!--my darling! I love you!--"
+
+No answer came, for there was none needed. Her face was hidden on his
+breast--but he felt rather than saw the soft white arms and dainty
+hands moving tremblingly upwards, till they closed round him in the
+dear embrace which meant for him from henceforth the faith and love and
+devotion of one true heart through all the sorrows and perplexities as
+well as the joys and triumphs of life. And when, with his heart
+beating, and all his pulses thrilling with the new ecstacy that
+possessed him, he whispered a word or two that caused the pretty golden
+head to raise itself timidly--the beautiful dark blue eyes to grow
+darker with the tenderness that overflowed the soul behind them, and
+the sweet lips to meet his own in a kiss, as soft and fragrant as
+though a rose had touched them, it was small blame to him that for a
+moment he lost his self-possession, and drawing her closer in his arms,
+showered upon her not only kisses, but whispered words of all that
+tender endearment which is judged as "foolish" by those who have never
+had the privilege of being made the subject of such priceless and
+exquisite "fooling." And when they were calmer, and began to think of
+the possibility of the worthy Bozier suddenly recovering from her
+neuralgia and coming to look after her pupil,--or the undesired but
+likely entrance of a servant to attend to the lamps, or to put fresh
+wood on the fire, they turned each from the other, with reluctance and
+half laughing decorum,--Sylvie resuming her seat by the fire, and
+Aubrey flinging himself with happy recklessness in a low fauteuil as
+near to her as could be permitted for a gentleman visitor, who might be
+considered as enthusiastically expounding literature or science to a
+fascinating hostess. And somehow, as they talked, their conversation
+did gradually drift from passionate personalities into graver themes
+affecting wider interests, and Aubrey, warming into eloquence, gave
+free vent to his thoughts and opinions, till noticing that Sylvie sat
+very silent, looking into the fire somewhat gravely, he checked himself
+abruptly, fancying that perhaps he was treading on what might be
+forbidden ground with her whose pleasure was now his law. As he came to
+this sudden pause, she turned her soft eyes towards him tenderly, with
+a smile.
+
+"Well!" she said, in the pretty foreign accent which distinguished her
+almost perfect English, "And why do you stop speaking? You must not be
+afraid to trust me with your closest thoughts,--because how can our
+love be perfect if you do not?"
+
+"Sweetheart!" he answered, catching the white hand that was so
+temptingly near his own, "Our love IS perfect!--and so far as I am
+concerned there shall never be a cloud on such a dazzling sky!"
+
+She smiled.
+
+"Ah, you talk romance just now!" she said, "But Aubrey, I want our love
+to be something more than romance--I want it to be a grand and helpful
+reality! If I am not worthy to be the companion of your very soul, you
+will not, you cannot love me long. Now, no protestations!" For he had
+possessed himself of the dear little hand again, and was covering it
+with kisses--"You see, it is very sweet just now to sit by the fire
+together, and look at each other, and feel how happy we are--but life
+does not go on like that. And your life, my Aubrey, belongs to the
+world . . ."
+
+"To you!--to you!" said Aubrey passionately, "I give it to you! You
+know the song?--I set my life in your hand Mar it or make it sweet,--I
+set my life in your hand, I lay my heart at your feet!"
+
+Sylvie rose impulsively, and leaning over his chair kissed his forehead.
+
+"Yes, I know! And I know you mean what you say! I could not imagine you
+telling an untruth,--not even in making love!" and she laughed, "Though
+there are many of your sex who think any amount of lies permissible
+under similar circumstances! And it is just because I have found men
+such practised liars, that I have the reputation of being heartless.
+Did you ever think me heartless?"
+
+Aubrey hesitated a moment.
+
+"Yes," he admitted at last, frankly, "I did till I knew better. I was
+told--"
+
+"Stop! I know all you were told!" said Sylvie, drawing her slim figure
+up with a pretty dignity as she moved back to her place by the
+fire--"You were told that I was the cause of the death of the Marquis
+Fontenelle. So I was, unhappily--but not through my own fault. The
+actor Miraudin,--known to be one of the most coarse-minded and brutal
+of men,--slandered me in public,--the Marquis defended me. Hence the
+combat and its fatal end, which no one has deplored more bitterly than
+I. Miraudin was never a gentleman,--Fontenelle could have been one had
+he chosen. And I confess I cared very much for him at one time!"
+
+"You loved him," said Aubrey, trying to master a pang of jealousy.
+
+"Yes! I loved him!--till he proved himself unworthy of love."
+
+There was a silence.
+
+"I tell you all this," said Sylvie then slowly and emphatically, "that
+you may know me at once as I am. I wish to hide nothing from you. I
+have read all your books--I know your views of life--your hatred of
+dissimulation--your contempt of a lie! In your love for me, you must
+have complete knowledge of my nature, and confidence in my truth. I
+would never give my life to any man unless he trusted me
+absolutely,--unless I was sure he felt I was a real helpmate for him. I
+love you--but I also love your work and your aims; and I go with all
+your thoughts and wish to share all your responsibilities. But I must
+feel that you will never misjudge me,--never set me down on the level
+of mean and small-natured women, who cannot sacrifice themselves or
+their personal vanities for another's sake. It is not for me to say
+that the calumnies circulated concerning me are untrue,--it is for my
+life to show and PROVE they are not! But I must be trusted--not
+suspected; and if you give me your life as you say, I will give mine to
+help make yours happier, asking from you in return just your
+faith--your FAITH as well as your love!"
+
+Like a fair queen she stood, royal in her look, bearing and attitude,
+and Aubrey bent his head low in reverence before her as he once more
+kissed her hand.
+
+"My wife!" he said simply.
+
+And the silence that followed was as that of God's benediction on that
+perfect marriage which is scarcely ever consummated in all the
+world,--the marriage of two souls, which like twin flames, unite and
+burn upward clear to Heaven, as One.
+
+
+
+
+XXVII.
+
+Society soon learned the news of the Countess Hermenstein's betrothal
+to the "eccentric Englishman," Aubrey Leigh,--and with its million
+tongues discussed the affair in all tones,--most people preferring to
+say, with the usual "society" kindness, that--"Leigh was not quite such
+a self-sacrificing idealist as he seemed to be,--he was going to marry
+for money." Some few ventured to remark that Sylvie Hermenstein was
+charming in herself and well worth winning,--but the more practical
+pooh-poohed this view of the case at once. "Pretty women are to be had
+by the score," they said, "It is the money that tells!" Aubrey Leigh
+caught these rumours, and was in a manner stung by them,--he said very
+little however, and to all the congratulations he received, merely gave
+coldly civil thanks. And so the gossips went to work again in their own
+peculiar way, and said, "Well! She will have an iceberg for a husband,
+that is one thing! A stuck up, insolent sort of chap!--not a bit of go
+in him!" Which was true,--Aubrey had no "go." "Go" means, in modern
+parlance, to drink oneself stupid, to bet on the most trifling passing
+events, and to talk slang that would disgrace a stable-boy, as well as
+to amuse oneself with all sorts of mean and vulgar intrigues which are
+carried on through the veriest skulk and caddishness;--thus Aubrey was
+a sad failure in "tip-top" circles. But the "tip-top" circles are not a
+desirable heaven to every man;--and Aubrey did not care much as to what
+sort of comments were passed on himself, provided he could see Sylvie
+always "queen it" over her inferiors in that graceful, gracious way of
+conquest which was her special peculiarity and charm. Among her friends
+no one perhaps was happier in Sylvie's happiness than Angela Sovrani;
+her nature was of that rare quality which vibrates like a harp to every
+touch, and the joy of others swept over her with a gladness which made
+her more glad than if she had received some priceless boon for her own
+benefit. Florian Varillo was exceedingly angry at the whole
+affair,--and whenever Sylvie's betrothal was spoken of he assumed an
+expression of pained and personal offence which was almost grotesque.
+
+"Such a marriage is ridiculous!" he declared,--"Everyone can see how
+utterly unsuited the two are in tastes, habits and opinions! They will
+rue the day they ever met!"
+
+And not all the gentle remonstrances of his own fiancee Angela, could
+soothe his ruffled humour, or make him accept the inevitable with
+grace. Angela was exceedingly troubled and puzzled by his almost
+childish waywardness,--she did not yet understand the nature of a man
+who was to himself all in all, and who could not endure the idea that
+any woman whom he personally condescended to admire should become the
+possession of another, no matter how completely that woman might be
+beyond his own reach. Poor Angela! She was very simple--very foolish
+indeed;--she never imagined it could be possible for a man to carry on
+five or six love-affairs at once, and never be found out. Yet this was
+the kind of life her "ideal" found the most suitable to his habit and
+temperament,--and he had made a mental note of Sylvie Hermenstein as
+one whom he proposed to add to his little list of conquests. So that
+her engagement of marriage to one who, though reserved in manner and
+without "go," was yet every inch a gentleman, and a determined opposer
+of sophistry and humbug, had considerably disturbed his little plans,
+and the unsettlement of anything he had set his heart upon greatly
+displeased him. He generally had his own way in most things, and could
+not at all comprehend why he was not to have it now. But among all the
+people who discussed the intended marriage there were two who were so
+well satisfied as to be almost jubilant, and these were the Monsignori
+Moretti and Gherardi. These worthies met together in one of the private
+chambers set apart for the use of the Papal court in the Vatican, and
+heartily congratulated each other on the subjugation and enthralment of
+Aubrey Leigh, which meant, as they considered, the consequent removal
+of a fierce opponent to the Roman Catholic movement in England.
+
+"Did I not tell you," said Moretti, as he untied some papers he had
+been carrying, and sat down at a table to glance over them, "Did I not
+tell you that when all other arguments fail, the unanswerable one of
+woman can be brought in to clinch every business?"
+
+Gherardi, though in a way contented, was not altogether so sure of his
+goal. He remembered, with an uncomfortable thrill of doubt, the little
+skirmish of words he had had with the fair Sylvie in the Pamphili woods.
+
+"You take your thoughts for deeds, and judge them as fully accomplished
+while they are still in embryo!" he said, "It is true that the
+engagement of marriage is settled,--but can you be certain that in
+religious matters the wife may not go with her husband?"
+
+"What!" exclaimed Moretti, opening his dark eyes quickly, as a flash of
+hell-fire illumined them at the very idea, "Do you suggest that Sylvie
+Hermenstein,--the last of her race--a race which, back to its earliest
+source, has been distinguished for its faithful allegiance to
+Mother-Church, and has moreover added largely to the Papal
+revenues--could be otherwise than our obedient and docile daughter? Per
+la Santissima Madonna!--if I thought she could turn against us her
+marriage should never take place!"
+
+And he brought his fist down with a fierce blow on the papers before
+him.
+
+"The marriage should never take place!" echoed Gherardi, "How could you
+prevent it?"
+
+"The Pope himself should intervene!" said Moretti, with increasing
+fury, losing a little of his self-control, "Gran Dio! Conceive for a
+moment the wealth of the Hermensteins being used to promulgate the
+reformer Leigh's threadbare theories, and feed his rascal poor! Do you
+know what Sylvie Hermenstein's fortune is? No, I suppose you do not!
+But I do! She tries to keep it a secret, but I have made it my business
+to find out! It is enormous!--and it is ever increasing. With all the
+fanciful creature's clothes and jewels and unthinking way of living her
+life, she spends not a quarter, nor half a quarter of her income,--and
+yet you actually venture to suggest that her power is so slight over
+the man who is now her promised husband, that she would voluntarily
+allow him to use all that huge amount of money as he pleased, OUTSIDE
+the Church?"
+
+Moretti spoke with such passionate insistence that Gherardi thought it
+prudent not to irritate him further by argument. So he merely said,
+
+"You expect her to persuade him to embrace our faith?"
+
+"Naturally!" answered Moretti, "And she can, and will do so. If she
+cannot or will not, she must be MADE to do so!"
+
+He bent over his papers again and rustled them impatiently, but his
+hand trembled. The pale December sunlight glittered through a
+stained-glass window above him, and cast deep violet rays about his
+chair,--Gherardi stood where the same luminance touched his pale face
+with a crimson glow as of fire.
+
+"This is a busy morning with us," said Moretti, without looking up,
+"The excommunication of Denis Vergniaud will be pronounced
+to-day,--and, what is even more important,--Cardinal Bonpre is summoned
+by His Holiness's command to wait upon him this afternoon, bringing the
+boy,--that boy who is always with him--"
+
+"Ah, there is a history there!" interrupted Gherardi, "It should be
+remembered that this boy was a witness of the miracle in Rouen, and he
+was also present at the Vergniaud scandal in Paris--he should have been
+sent for ere now. He, more than anyone, must surely know how the
+miracle was accomplished,--for the worthy Felix tells me he is 'wise
+beyond his years'!"
+
+"So! His wisdom will be put to the test to-day!" said Moretti coldly,
+"Do you not think it strange"--here he raised his eyes from his papers,
+"and somewhat incriminating too--always supposing the miracle is a case
+of conspiracy--that no trace has been discovered of the man Claude
+Cazeau?"
+
+Gherardi had moved to a book-case, and was standing close to it,
+turning over a vellum-bound manuscript.
+
+"Yes--the whole business looks as black as murder!" he said.
+
+Moretti looked at him sharply.
+
+"Murder? You suppose--"
+
+"That Claude Cazeau has been murdered? Certainly I suppose it! It is
+more than a week now since we heard that he had mysteriously
+disappeared, and still there is no news. What can it be but murder? But
+I do not for a moment suppose that our good Saint Felix is concerned in
+it!"
+
+And he smiled, turning over the vellum volume carelessly.
+
+Moretti knitted his dark brows.
+
+"No--no!" he said musingly, "That would not be possible! Cardinal
+Bonpre is not that kind of man--he would rather bear the heaviest
+weight of punishment for himself than allow another to suffer. That I
+KNOW of him;--and though I do not admire his extreme views on this
+point, and do not think them politic, I give him full credit for this
+particular and uncommon form of--eccentricity!"
+
+"Or Christianity!" said Gherardi, still smiling.
+
+Moretti pushed aside his papers, and leaning his head on one hand
+frowned meditatively at the amethyst light which streamed radiantly
+through the jewel-like window above him. "Yes--or Christianity, if you
+like!" he said, "For Christianity pur et simple, WOULD be eccentricity.
+In its primitive simplicity it is an impossible creed. Founded by the
+Divine it needs divine beings to comprehend and follow it,--beings not
+of this world nor addicted to the things of this world. And to exist in
+the world, made of the world's clay, and the world's inherited
+associations, and yet not be of it, is to be judged crazed! True, there
+have been saints and martyrs,--there are saints and martyrs now,
+unknown and unheard of, but nevertheless consumed by flames more cruel
+perhaps than those which physically burn the flesh;--idealists,
+thinkers, dreamers, heralds of future progress,--and how are they
+estimated? As madmen all! To be human, and yet above humanity, is the
+supreme sin! For that very affront the multitude cried out, 'Not this
+man, but Barabbas!' And to this day we all prefer Barabbas to Christ.
+Hence the power of the Church!"
+
+Gherardi put back the volume he had been glancing at, on its shelf, and
+looked at his confrere with a certain amount of admiring respect. He
+had been long an interested student of the various psychological
+workings of Moretti's mind,--and he knew that Moretti's scheming brain
+was ever hard at work designing bold and almost martial plans for
+securing such conversions to the Church as would seriously trouble the
+peace of two or three great nations. Moretti was in close personal
+touch with every crowned head in Europe; he was acquainted more closely
+than anyone alive with the timidities, the nervous horrors, the sudden
+scruples, the sickening qualms of conscience, and the overwhelming
+fears of death which troubled the minds of certain powerful personages
+apparently presenting a brave front to the world,--and he held such
+personages in awe by the very secrets which they had, in weak moments,
+entrusted to him. Gherardi even was not without his own fears,--he
+instinctively felt that Moretti knew more about himself than was either
+safe or convenient.
+
+"We all live for Barabbas," pursued Moretti, an ironical smile playing
+on his thin lips, "Not for Christ! Barabbas, in the shape of the
+unscrupulous millionaire, robs the world!--and we share the spoils,
+pardon his robberies, and set him free. But whosoever lives outside
+Dogma, serving God purely and preaching truth,--him we crucify!--but
+our Robber,--our murderer of Truth, we set at liberty! Hence, as I said
+before, the power of the Church!"
+
+Carried away by his thoughts, he rose, and pacing the room, talked more
+to himself than to Gherardi.
+
+"The Church supports the robber, because he is always a coward and
+cannot stand alone. The murderer of his fellow-men's good name is
+naturally a liar, and fears lest his lies should find him out. Fear!
+That is the keynote on which we of Rome play our invincible march of
+triumph! The Church appeals to the ignorant, the base, the sensual, the
+false, and the timorous; and knowing that they never repent, but are
+only afraid, retains them by fear!--fear, not love! Christ taught
+love--but hate is the more popular virtue! Hence again, the power of
+the Church!"
+
+"Your argument is perfectly orthodox!" said Gherardi, with a smile.
+
+"Hate is a grand, a strong quality!" went on Moretti, "It makes
+nations, it builds up creeds! If men loved one another what should they
+need of a Church? But Hate!--the subtle sense which makes the
+ultra-respectable thank God that he is not as other men are!--the
+fierce emotion which almost touches ecstacy when the wronged individual
+thinks his enemy will go to hell!--the fine fever which sets father
+against son, creed against creed, nation against nation!--hate is the
+chief mainspring of human motives! From hate and envy spring emulation
+and conquest--and we of the Church encourage the haters to hate on!
+They make Us!--they emulate each other in the greed of their gifts to
+us, which give them notoriety and advertise their generosity,--WE fan
+the flame and encourage the fury! For the world must have a
+religion--it crucified Christ, but the Church, built up in His name,
+takes just and daily revenge for His murder! We do not save--we kill!
+We do not rescue--we trample down! We humiliate,--we crush wherever we
+can, and it is well and fitting we should do so! For Humanity is a
+brute beast, and serves us best under the lash. Rome made many a
+blunder in the old days of barbarity and ignorance--but now we have a
+thousand forces put into our hands instead of one or two,--forces to
+terrorise--forces to compel!--and the power of Rome wielded by the
+Popes of the days to come, shall be indeed a power irresistible!"
+
+He stood enrapt,--his hand upraised, his eyes flashing, then recalling
+himself, turned abruptly on Gherardi with an impatient gesture.
+
+"You can repeat all this," he said sarcastically, "in your next
+eloquent discourse with Aubrey Leigh! It will save you the trouble of
+thinking! His influence with the English masses will be but a brief
+phenomenon,--the blind and brutal stupidity of the people he seeks to
+serve will soon dishearten and discourage him, and then he will come to
+us through his wife, and his conversion will be a triumph worth
+winning,--a step in the right direction. And now to other matters.
+These papers," and he sat down at the table once more, "are, I think,
+sufficiently in order to be placed before His Holiness. But you may as
+well look through them with me first. Later on, the affair of Cardinal
+Bonpre will occupy all our time . . ."
+
+"It is an 'affair' then?" asked Gherardi, "The 'saint' is in trouble?"
+
+"All 'saints' get into trouble!" answered Moretti, "It is only sinners
+who receive honour! Cardinal Bonpre has made the fatal mistake of
+reading Jesus Christ's Gospel instead of Church Doctrine! His creed is
+Love,--his duty, as I have just explained to you, if he would be a
+faithful son of the Church, is Hate!"
+
+"Love forms no part of your nature then?" asked Gherardi, hardly
+knowing why he put the question, yet curious as to the answer.
+
+"I am of the world!" replied Moretti coldly, "And I hate accordingly. I
+hate, and in my hate, aspire to crush those who in turn hate me! That
+is the human code, and one that must be strictly practised by all who
+would rule mankind. Never do anything for those who can do nothing for
+you! Firmly oppose those who oppose you! Revenge yourself on those who
+despitefully use you! We do revenge ourselves,--and we reward all who
+help us to our revenge! For example, Denis Vergniaud has cast
+opprobrium on his calling, and made a scandal and a shame of the Church
+before his congregation in Paris;--we excommunicate him! It is no use,
+but we do it on principle. And we are still unable to explain away, or
+offer any excuse for Cardinal Bonpre's mistake in condoning and
+pardoning his offence. Therefore it follows as you say, that the
+'saint' is in trouble!"
+
+"Notwithstanding the miracle?"
+
+"Notwithstanding the miracle!" echoed Moretti, "For the miracle is
+doubtful. The Holy Father is not satisfied of its truth. Yes--there is
+no doubt about it, Saint Felix is in trouble! It would be better for
+him had he never come out of his long retirement. But perhaps he was
+compelled to look after his Rouen foundling!"
+
+A smile flickered faintly over Gherardi's face, but he said not a word
+in answer. Discovering an error in one of the documents he was
+examining, he called Moretti's attention to it, and the conversation
+drifted to everyday trivial subjects. But the thoughts of both men were
+elsewhere, and not even the news received that morning of the bequest
+of one hundred thousand pounds to the Shrine of Lourdes from a deluded
+believer in the miraculous Virgin there, absorbed so much of their
+reflective brain powers as the imminent trial--for it was little
+else--of Cardinal Bonpre, in the presence of the boy to whom he so
+openly gave his confidence and protection.
+
+Meanwhile, the good Felix himself was very sorely troubled. During his
+sojourn in Rome, he had grown thinner and paler, and the fine,
+spiritual delicacy of his features had become more intensified, while
+his clear blue eyes shone from under their deeply arched brows with a
+flashing luminance that was almost unearthly. Often, when about to
+enter his room with unthinking haste, his brother-in-law, Prince
+Pietro, would see him kneeling before his crucifix absorbed, one might
+almost say entranced, in prayer. And he would softly move away again
+with a deep sense of awe, and a feeling that some higher power than any
+on earth, sustained the venerable prelate, and inspired both his words
+and actions. But with all his patient, sometimes passionate prayer,
+earnest meditations, and constant study of the Gospels, the Cardinal
+himself was more or less heavy-hearted,--and his Master's phrase--"My
+soul is exceeding sorrowful even unto death!" was one which he often
+breathed in the solitude and extremity of his own position. The news of
+the disappearance of Claude Cazeau had materially added to his
+difficulties--and now he had been commanded, with a certain
+peremptoriness in the summons, to wait upon the Sovereign Pontiff in a
+private audience, bringing with him the boy who could, or would give no
+further account of himself than that of a world's waif and stray.
+Prepared for this visit and arrayed in all the splendour befitting his
+rank in the Church, the gentle old man looked paler and more fragile
+than ever, and the vague trouble he felt at the express injunction laid
+upon him concerning Manuel, showed itself in the deep furrows of
+anxiety marked upon his brow, and the pain in his thoughtful eyes.
+Prince Pietro's own man-servant had assisted him to dress for the
+impending ceremonial, and just as the last folds of his regal attire
+were being set in place a knock was heard at the door of his apartment,
+and Prince Pietro himself entered.
+
+"A telegram for you, brother Felix," he said, "I have brought it
+myself, thinking it may perhaps immediately concern your visit to the
+Pope to-day."
+
+The Cardinal, with a gentle word of thanks, opened the envelope handed
+to him.
+
+"Praise be to God!" he said simply, as he read its contents, "Vergniaud
+has passed to the Higher tribunal!"
+
+And he crossed himself reverently on brow and breast.
+
+"Dead?" exclaimed Sovrani.
+
+"To this world, yes!" answered Bonpre, "He died peacefully last night.
+This message is from his son."
+
+A faint ironical smile flickered over Sovrani's dark features.
+
+"The ban of excommunication has not been declared!" he said, "It will
+be a somewhat belated announcement!"
+
+Cardinal Bonpre folded the telegram, ready to take with him to the
+Vatican.
+
+"The Church can excommunicate even the dead!" he said sorrowfully, "If
+such an extreme measure is judged politic it will doubtless be carried
+out!"
+
+"Wonderful Christian charity," murmured Sovrani under his breath, "to
+excommunicate a corpse! For that is all they can do. The Soul of the
+man is God's affair!"
+
+Cardinal Bonpre answered nothing, for just then the young Manuel
+entered the room, in readiness to accompany his venerable protector and
+friend to the Vatican, and the old man's eyes rested upon him with a
+wistful, wondering trouble and anxiety which he could not conceal.
+Manuel smiled up at him--that rare and beautiful smile which was like
+sunshine in darkness--but the Cardinal's sad expression did not alter.
+
+"The Abbe Vergniaud is no more," he said gently, as the boy drew near,
+"His sins and sufferings are ended!"
+
+"And his joys have begun!" answered Manuel, "For he set his life right
+with the world before he left it!"
+
+"Child, you talk as a very wise man might!" said Prince Sovrani, his
+rugged brows smoothing into a kindly smile. "But the unfortunate Abbe
+is not likely to be judged in that way. It will be said of him that he
+scandalized the world before he left it!"
+
+"When truth is made scandal, and right is made wrong," said Manuel, "It
+will surely be a God-forgotten world!"
+
+"WILL be? I think it is already!" said Prince Pietro. "It is said that
+the patience of the Almighty is unwearied,--but I do not feel sure of
+that in my own mind. Science teaches us that many a world has been
+destroyed before now,--and sometimes I feel as if our turn were soon
+coming!"
+
+Here the man-servant having completely finished arranging the
+Cardinal's attire, made respectful obeisance and left the room, and the
+Cardinal himself proceeded into the adjoining salon, where he found his
+niece Angela waiting to see him.
+
+"Dearest uncle," she said, making her pretty genuflection as he
+approached her, "I must ask you to forgive me for coming to your rooms
+just now when your time is so much taken up, and when I know you have
+to go to the Vatican,--but I want to tell you one thing that may
+perhaps please you,--my picture is finished!"
+
+"Finished!" echoed the Cardinal--then tenderly taking her hands, he
+added, "I congratulate you, dear child, with all my heart!--and I pray
+that the reward of your long and patient toil may be worthy of you. And
+when are we to see your work?"
+
+"To-morrow!" answered Angela, and her cheeks flushed, and her eyes
+sparkled, "I shall be busy all today arranging it for exhibition in the
+best light. To-morrow morning Florian is to see it first,--then my
+father will come, and you--and Manuel!" and she smiled as she met the
+boy's gentle look,--"And Queen Margherita has promised to be here at
+mid-day."
+
+"Florian first! And then your father!" said Prince Pietro, with a touch
+of melancholy in his tone, "Ah well, Angela mia!--I suppose it must
+always be so! The lover's love--the stranger's love,--is greater than
+the love of years, the love of home! Yet sometimes, I fancy that the
+lover's love often turns out to be a passing impulse more than a real
+truth, and that the home-love reasserts itself afterwards with the best
+and the holiest power!"
+
+And not trusting himself to say more, he abruptly left the room. Angela
+looked after him, a little troubled. The Cardinal took her hand.
+
+"He is your father, dear girl!" he said gently, "And he cannot but feel
+it hard--at first--to be relegated to a second place in your
+affections."
+
+Angela sighed.
+
+"I cannot help it!" she said, "Florian is my very life! I should have
+no ambition--no joy in anything if he did not love me!"
+
+Over the Cardinal's fine open face there came an expression of great
+pain.
+
+"That is idolatry, Angela!" he said gravely, "We make a grievous
+mistake when we love human beings too deeply,--for they are not the
+gods we would make of them. Like ourselves, they are subject to sin,
+and their sins often create more unhappiness for us than our own!"
+
+"Ah! But we can save our beloved ones from sin!" answered Angela, with
+a beautiful upward look of exaltation,--"That is love's greatest
+mission!"
+
+"It is a mission that cannot always be fulfilled"--said the Cardinal
+sorrowfully,--then, after a pause he added--"The Abbe Vergniaud is
+dead."
+
+"Dead!" And Angela turned very pale. "His son--"
+
+"His son sends the message--" and he handed her the telegram he had
+received. She read it, and returned it to him,--then made the sign of
+the cross.
+
+"May he rest in peace!" He died true!"
+
+"Yes, he died true. But remember, child, neither Truth nor Love are
+spared their crown of thorns. Love cannot save--would that it could! It
+may warn--it may pray--it may watch--it may hope,--but if despite its
+tenderness, the sinner sins, what can love do then?"
+
+"It can pardon!" said Angela softly.
+
+Deeply moved, the good Felix took her hand and patted it gently.
+
+"Dear child, God grant your powers of forgiveness may never be put to
+the test!" he ejaculated fervently. "The one unforgivable sin according
+to our Lord, is treachery;--may THAT never come your way!"
+
+"It can never come my way through Florian!" answered Angela
+smiling,--"and for the rest--I do not care!"
+
+Manuel stood by silently, with thoughtful, downcast eyes--but at these
+last words of hers he raised his head and looked full at her with a
+touch of melancholy in his straight regard.
+
+"Ah, that is wrong!" he said, "You SHOULD care!--you MUST care for the
+rest of the world. We must all learn to care for others more than
+ourselves. And if we will not learn, God sometimes takes a hard way of
+teaching us!"
+
+Angela's head drooped a little. Then she said,
+
+"I DO care for others,--I think perhaps my picture will prove that for
+me. But the tenderness I have for the sorrows of the world is
+impersonal; and perhaps if I analysed myself honestly, I feel even that
+through my love for Florian. If he were not in the world, I am afraid I
+should not love the world so much!"
+
+The Cardinal said no more, for just then a servant entered and
+announced that His Eminence's carriage was in waiting. Angela bending
+low once more before her uncle, kissed his apostolic ring, and said
+softly--"To-morrow!"
+
+And Manuel echoed the word, "To-morrow!" as she bade them both a
+smiling "addio" and left the apartment. When she had gone, and he was
+left alone with his foundling, the Cardinal stood for a few minutes
+absorbed in silent meditation, mechanically gathering his robes about
+him. After a pause of evident hesitancy and trouble, he approached the
+boy and gently laid a hand upon his shoulder.
+
+"Manuel," he said, "Do you understand whom it is that you are going to
+see?"
+
+"Yes," replied Manuel quickly, "The Head of the Church. One who holds
+an office constituted by man long after Christ. It was founded upon the
+name and memory of the Apostle Peter, who publicly denied all knowledge
+of His Master. That is how I understand the person I am to see to-day!"
+
+Cardinal Bonpre's face was a study of varying expressions as he heard
+these words.
+
+"My child, you must not say these things in the Pope's presence!"
+
+Manuel lifted his radiant eyes with a look of calm confidence.
+
+"Dear friend, you must trust me!" he said, "They have sent for me, have
+they not, to this place you call the Vatican? They desire to see me,
+and to question me. That being so, whatever God bids me say, I will
+say; fearing nothing!"
+
+A strong tremour shook the Cardinal's nerves,--he essayed to find words
+of wisdom and instruction, but somehow language failed him,--he felt
+blinded and strengthless, and warned by this impending sense of
+feebleness, made an instant effort to brace himself up and master the
+strange fainting that threatened to overwhelm him as it had frequently
+done before. He succeeded, and without speaking again to Manuel, but
+only bending one earnest look upon him, he quitted his rooms and
+proceeded slowly down the great marble staircase of the Palazzo
+Sovrani,--a staircase famous even in Rome for its architectural
+beauty--Manuel stepping lightly at his side--and reaching his carriage,
+entered it with his foundling, and was rapidly driven away.
+
+Arrived at the Vatican, the largest palace in the world, which
+contains, so historians agree in saying, no less than eleven thousand
+different apartments with their courts and halls and corridors, they
+descended at the Portone di Bronzo,--the Swiss Guard on duty saluting
+as the Cardinal passed in. On they went into the vestibule, chilly and
+comfortless, of the Scala Pia;--and so up the stone stairs to the
+Cortile do San Damaso, and thence towards the steps which lead to the
+Pope's private apartments. Another Guard met them here and likewise
+saluted,--in fact, almost at every step of the way, and on every
+landing, guards were on duty, either standing motionless, or marching
+wearily up and down, the clank, clank of their footsteps waking dismal
+echoes from the high vaulted roofs and uncarpeted stone corridors. At
+last they reached the Sala Clementina, a vast unfurnished hall, rich
+only with mural decorations and gilding, and here another Guard met
+them who, without words, escorted the Cardinal and his young companion
+through a number of waiting-rooms, made more or less magnificent by
+glorious paintings, wonderful Gobelin tapestries, and unique
+sculptures, till they reached at last what is called the anti-camera
+segreto, where none but Cardinals are permitted to enter and wait for
+an audience with the Supreme Pontiff. At the door of this "Holy of
+Holies" stood a Guarda Nobile on sentry duty,--but he might have been a
+figure of painted marble for all the notice he took of their approach.
+As they passed into the room, which was exceedingly high and narrow,
+Monsignor Gherardi rose from a table near the window, and received the
+Cardinal with a kind of stately gravity which suitably agreed with the
+coldness and silence of the general surroundings. A small lean man,
+habited in black, also came forward, exchanging a few low whispered
+words with Gherardi as he did so, and this individual, after saluting
+the Cardinal, mysteriously disappeared through a little door to the
+right. He was the Pope's confidential valet,--a personage who was
+perhaps more in the secrets of everybody and everything than even
+Gherardi himself.
+
+"I am afraid we shall have to keep you waiting a little while," said
+Gherardi, in his smooth rich voice, which despite its mellow ring had
+something false about it, like the tone produced by an invisible crack
+in a fine bell, "Your young friend," and here he swept a keen,
+inquisitive glance over Manuel from face to feet, and from feet to face
+again, "will perhaps be tired?"
+
+"I am never tired!" answered Manuel.
+
+"Nor impatient?" asked Gherardi with a patronising air.
+
+"Nor impatient!"
+
+"Wonderful boy! If you are never tired or impatient, you will be
+eminently fitted for the priesthood," said Gherardi, his lip curling
+with a faint touch of derision, "For even the best of us grow sometimes
+weary in well-doing!"
+
+And turning from him with a movement which implied both hauteur and
+indifference, he addressed himself to Bonpre, whose face was clouded,
+and whose eyes were troubled.
+
+"The unfortunate affair of our friend Vergniaud will be settled
+to-day," he began, when the Cardinal raised one hand with a gentle
+solemnity.
+
+"It is settled!" he returned, "Not even the Church can intervene
+between Vergniaud and his Maker now!"
+
+Gherardi uttered an exclamation of undisguised annoyance.
+
+"Dead!" he ejaculated, his forehead growing crimson with the anger he
+inwardly repressed--"Since when?"
+
+"Last night he passed away," replied the Cardinal. "according to the
+telegram I have just received from--his son. But he has been dying for
+some time, and what he told me in Paris was no lie. I explained his
+exact position to you quite recently, on the day you visited my niece
+at her studio. He had a serious valvular disease of the heart,--he
+might, as the doctors said, have lived, at the utmost, two years--but
+the excitement of recent events has evidently proved too much for him.
+As I told you, he felt that his death might occur at any moment, and he
+did not wish to leave the world under a false impression of his
+character. I trust that now the Holy Father may be inclined to pardon
+him, in death, if not in life!"
+
+Gherardi walked up and down the narrow room impatiently.
+
+"I doubt it!" he said at last, "I very much doubt it! The man may be
+dead, but the scandal he caused remains. And his death has made the
+whole position very much more difficult for you, my lord Cardinal! For
+as Vergniaud is not alive to endure the penalty of his offence, it is
+probable YOU may have to suffer for having condoned it!"
+
+Felix Bonpre bent his head gently.
+
+"I shall be ready and willing to suffer whatever God commands!" he
+answered, "For I most faithfully believe that nothing can injure my
+soul while it rests, as I humbly place it, in His Holy keeping!"
+
+Gherardi paused in his pacing to and fro, and gazed at the frail
+figure, and fine old face before him, with mingled compassion and
+curiosity.
+
+"You should have lived in the early days of the Faith," he said, "You
+are too literal--too exact in your following of Christian ethics. That
+sort of thing does not work nowadays. Dogma must be maintained!"
+
+"What is dogma?" asked Manuel suddenly.
+
+Gherardi gave him a careless glance.
+
+"Cardinal Bonpre must teach you that in extenso!" he replied, with a
+little smile--"But briefly,--dogma is an opinion or theory derived from
+the Gospels, and formulated as doctrine, by the Church."
+
+"An opinion or theory of man, founded on the words of Christ?" said
+Manuel.
+
+"Just so!"
+
+"But if Christ was divine, should any man presume to formulate a theory
+on what He Himself said?" asked Manuel. "Are not his own plain words
+enough?"
+
+Gherardi stared at the young speaker half angrily.
+
+"His own plain words enough?" he repeated mechanically. "What do you
+mean, boy?"
+
+"I mean," answered Manuel simply, "that if He were truly a
+Manifestation of God in Himself, as the Church declares Him to be, _I_
+WONDER THAT MAN CAN DARE TO FORMULATE MERE DOGMA ON GOD'S OWN
+UTTERANCE!"
+
+There was a dead pause. After a few minutes of chill silence Gherardi
+addressed the Cardinal.
+
+"Your young friend has a dangerous tongue!" he said sternly, "You had
+best warn or command him that he set a guard upon it in the Holy
+Father's presence!"
+
+"There is no need to either warn or command me!" said Manuel, a smile
+irradiating his fair face as he met the angry eyes of Gherardi with the
+full calmness of his own--"I have been sent for, and I am here. Had I
+not been sent for I should not have come. Now that I have been called
+to answer for myself I will answer,--with truth and without fear. For
+what can any man cause me to suffer if I am to myself true?"
+
+Another heavy pause ensued. An invisible something was in the air,--a
+sense of that vast supernatural which is deeply centered at the core of
+the natural universe,--a grave mystery which seemed to envelop all
+visible things with a sudden shadow of premonitory fear. The silence
+prevailing was painful--almost terrible. A great ormolu clock in the
+room, one of the Holy Father's "Jubilee" gifts, ticked the minutes
+slowly away with a jewel-studded pendulum, which in its regular
+movements to and fro sounded insolently obtrusive in such a stillness.
+Gherardi abstractedly raised his eyes to a great ivory crucifix which
+was displayed upon the wall against a background of rich purple
+velvet,--Manuel was standing immediately in front of it, and the
+tortured head of the carven Christ drooped over him as though in a
+sorrow-stricken benediction. A dull anger began to irritate Gherardi's
+usually well-tempered nerves, and he was searching in his mind for some
+scathing sentence wherewith to overwhelm and reprove the confident ease
+of the boy, when the door leading to the Pope's apartments was slowly
+pushed open to admit the entrance of Monsignor Moretti. Cardinal Bonpre
+had not seen him since the day of the Vergniaud scandal in Paris,--and
+a faint colour came into his pale cheeks as he noted the air of
+overbearing condescension and authority with which Moretti, here on his
+own ground, as one of the favorites of the Pope, greeted him.
+
+"The Holy Father is ready to receive you," he said, "But I regret to
+inform your Eminence that His Holiness can see no way to excuse or
+condone the grave offence of the Abbe Vergniaud,--moreover, the fact of
+the sin-begotten son being known to the world as Gys Grandit, makes it
+more than ever necessary that the ban of excommunication should be
+passed upon him. Especially, as those uninstructed in the Faith, are
+under the delusion that the penalty of excommunication has become more
+or less obsolete, and we have now an opportunity for making publicly
+known the truth that it still exists, and may be used by the Church in
+extreme situations, when judged politic and fitting."
+
+"Then in this case the Church must excommunicate the dead!" said the
+Cardinal quietly.
+
+Moretti's face turned livid.
+
+"Dead?" he exclaimed, "I do not believe it!"
+
+Silently Bonpre handed him the telegram received that morning. Moretti
+read it, his eyes sparkling with rage.
+
+"How do I know this is not a trick?" he said, "The accursed atheist of
+a son may have telegraphed a lie!"
+
+"I hardly think he would condescend to that!" returned the Cardinal
+calmly, "It would not be worth his while. You must remember, that to
+one of his particular views, Church excommunication, either for his
+father or himself, would mean nothing. He makes himself responsible for
+his conduct to God only. And whatever his faults he certainly believes
+in God!"
+
+Moretti read through the telegram again.
+
+"We must place this before His Holiness," he said, "And it will very
+seriously annoy him! I fear your Eminence," here he gave a quick
+meaning look at Bonpre, "will be all the more severely censured for
+having pardoned the Abbe's sins."
+
+"Is it wrong to forgive sinners?" asked Manuel, his clear young voice
+breaking through the air like a silver bell rung suddenly,--"And when
+one cannot reach the guilty, should one punish the innocent?"
+
+Moretti scowled fiercely at the fair candid face turned enquiringly
+near his own.
+
+"You are too young to ask questions!" he said roughly--"Wait to be
+questioned yourself--and think twice--aye three times before you
+answer!"
+
+The bright expression of the boy's countenance seemed to become
+intensified as he heard.
+
+"'Take no thought how or what ye shall speak, for it shall be given you
+in that same hour what ye shall speak!'" he said softly--"'For it is
+not ye that speak, but the Spirit of your Father which speaketh in
+you!'"
+
+Moretti flushed angrily, and his hand involuntarily clenched.
+
+"Those words were addressed by our Lord to His Apostles," he
+retorted--"Apostles, of whom our Holy Father the Pope is the one
+infallible representative. They were not spoken to an ignorant lad who
+barely knows his catechism!"
+
+"Yet were not the Apostles themselves told," went on Manuel steadily,
+"to be humble as ignorant children if they would enter the Kingdom of
+Heaven? And did not Christ say, 'Whoso offendeth one of these little
+ones which believe in Me, it were better for him that a millstone were
+hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depths of the
+sea!' I am sure there are many such little ones who believe in
+Christ,--perhaps too, without knowing any catechism,--and even Apostles
+must beware of offending them!"
+
+"Does this boy follow your teaching in the quoting of Scripture with so
+glib a tongue?" asked Moretti, turning sharply round upon the Cardinal.
+
+Bonpre returned his angry look with one of undisturbed serenity.
+
+"My son, I have taught him nothing!" he replied, "I have no time as
+yet--and I may add--no inclination, to become his instructor. He speaks
+from his own nature."
+
+"It is a nature that needs training!" said Gherardi, smiling blandly,
+and silencing by a gesture Moretti's threatening outburst of wrath, "To
+quote Scripture rashly, without due consideration for the purpose to
+which it is to be applied, does not actually constitute an offence, but
+it displays a reprehensible disregard and ignorance of theology.
+However, theology," here he smiled still more broadly, "is a hard word
+for the comprehension of the young! This poor little lad cannot be
+expected to grasp its meaning."
+
+Manuel raised his bright eyes and fixed them steadily on the priest's
+countenance.
+
+"Oh, yes!" he said quietly, "I understand it perfectly! Originally it
+meant the Word or Discourse of God,--it has now come to mean the words
+or discourses, or quarrels and differences of men on the things of God!
+But God's Word remains God's Word--eternally, invincibly! No man can
+alter it, and Christ preached it so plainly that the most simple child
+cannot fail to understand it!"
+
+Moretti was about to speak when again Gherardi interrupted him.
+
+"Patience! Patience!" he said soothingly, "Perchance we must say"--this
+with a flash of derision from his dark crafty eyes, "that a prophet
+hath arisen in Israel! Listen to me, boy! If Christ spoke as plainly as
+you say, and if all He preached could be understood by the people, why
+should He have founded a Church to teach His doctrine?"
+
+"He did not found a Church," answered Manuel, "He tried to make a Human
+Brotherhood. He trusted twelve men. They all forsook Him in His hour of
+need, and one betrayed Him! When He died and arose again from the dead,
+they sought to give themselves a Divine standing on His Divinity. They
+preached His Word to the world--true!--but they preached their own as
+well! Hence the Church!"
+
+Moretti's angry eyes rolled in his head with an excess of wrath and
+amazement.
+
+"Surely some evil spirit possesses this boy!" he exclaimed irately,
+"Retro me Sathanas! He is a rank heretic--a heathen! And yet he lives
+in the companionship of Cardinal Felix Bonpre!"
+
+Both priests looked at the Cardinal in angry astonishment, but he stood
+silent, one wrinkled hand holding up the trailing folds of his scarlet
+robe,--his head slightly bent, and his whole attitude expressive of
+profound patience and resignation. Manuel turned his eyes upon him and
+smiled tenderly.
+
+"It is not the fault of Cardinal Bonpre that I think my own thoughts,"
+he said, "or that I speak as I have spoken from the beginning. He found
+me lost and alone in the world,--and he sheltered me, knowing not whom
+he sheltered! Let what blame there is in me therefore be mine alone,
+and not his or another's!"
+
+His young voice, so full of sweetness, seemed to melt the cold and
+heavy silence into vibrations of warm feeling, and a sudden sense of
+confusion and shame swept over the callous and calculating minds of the
+two men, miscalled priests, as they listened. But before they could
+determine or contrive an answer, the door was thrown open, and the lean
+man in black entered, and pausing on the threshold bowed
+slightly,--then raising his hand with a gesture which invited all to
+follow him, turned again and walked on in front,--then crossing a small
+antechamber, he drew aside a long curtain of purple damask heavily
+fringed with gold, and opened a farther door. Here he stood back, and
+allowed Cardinal Bonpre to pass in first, attended by
+Manuel,--Monsignori Gherardi and Moretti followed. And then the valet,
+closing the door behind them, and pulling the rich curtain across, sat
+down himself close outside it to be within call when the Holy Father
+should summon his attendance by means of a bell which hung immediately
+over his head. And to while away the time he pulled from his pocket
+that day's issue of a well-known Republican paper,--one of the most
+anti-Papal tendency, thereby showing that his constant humble
+attendance upon the Head of the Church had not made him otherwise than
+purely human, or eradicated from his nature that peculiar quality with
+which most of us are endowed, namely, the perversity of spirit which
+leads us often to say and do things which are least expected of us. The
+Pope's confidential valet was not exempt from this failing. He like the
+Monsignori, enjoyed the exciting rush and secret risk of money
+speculation,--he also had his little schemes of self-advancement; and,
+as is natural to all who are engaged in a certain kind of service, he
+took care to read everything that could be said by outsiders against
+the person or persons whom he served. Thus, despite the important
+capacity he filled, he was not a grade higher than the ordinary butler,
+who makes it his business to know all the peccadilloes and failings of
+his master. "No man is a hero to his valet" is a very true axiom,--and
+even the Head of the Church, the Manifestation of the Divine, the
+"Infallible in Council," was a mere Nothing to the little man in black
+who had the power to insist on His Holiness changing a soiled cassock
+for a clean one.
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII.
+
+There are certain moments in life which seem weighted with the history
+of ages--when all the past, present and future merge into the one
+omnipresent Now,--moments, which if we are able to live through them
+with courage, may decide a very eternity of after-glory--but which, if
+we fail to comprehend their mission, pass, taking with them the last
+opportunity of all good that shall ever be granted to us in this life.
+Such a moment appeared, to the reflective mind of Cardinal Bonpre, to
+have presented itself to him, as for the second time in ten days, he
+found himself face to face with the Sovereign Pontiff, the pale and
+aged man with the deep dark eyes set in such cavernous sockets, that as
+they looked out on the world through that depth of shadow, seemed more
+like great jewels in the head of a galvanised skeleton than the eyes of
+a living human being. On this occasion the Pope was enthroned in a kind
+of semi-state, on a gilded chair covered with crimson velvet; and a
+rich canopy of the same material, embroidered and fringed with gold,
+drooped in heavy folds above him. Attired in the usual white,--white
+cassock, white skull cap, and white sash ornamented with the emblematic
+keys of St. Peter, embroidered in gold thread at the ends,--his
+unhandsome features, pallid as marble, and seemingly as
+cold,--bloodless everywhere, even to the lips,--suggested with dreadful
+exactitude a corpse in burial clothes just lifted from its coffin and
+placed stiffly upright in a sitting position. Involuntarily Cardinal
+Bonpre, as he made the usual necessary genuflections, thought, with a
+shrinking interior sense of horror at the profanity of his own idea,
+that the Holy Father as he then appeared, might have posed to a painter
+of allegories, as the frail ghost of a dead Faith. For he looked so
+white and slender and fragile and transparent,--he sat so rigidly, so
+coldly, without a movement or a gesture, that it seemed as if the touch
+of a hand might break him into atoms, so brittle and delicate a figure
+of clay was he. When he spoke, his harsh voice, issuing from the long
+thin lips which scarcely moved, even in utterance, was startling in its
+unmelodious loudness, the more so when its intonation was querulous, as
+now.
+
+"It is regrettable, my lord Cardinal," he said slowly, keeping his dark
+eyes immovably fixed on the venerable Felix,--"that I should be
+compelled to send for you so soon again on the same matters which,
+since your arrival in Rome, have caused me so much anxiety. This
+miracle,--of which you are declared to be the worker,--though for some
+inscrutable reason, you persist in denying your own act,--is not yet
+properly authenticated. And, to make the case worse, it seems that the
+unfortunate man, Claude Cazeau, whom we entrusted with our instructions
+to the Archbishop of Rouen, has suddenly disappeared, leaving no trace.
+Naturally there are strong suspicions that he has met with a violent
+death,--perhaps at the hands of the Freemasons, who are ever at work
+conspiring against the Faith,--or else through the intrigues of the
+so-called 'Christian Democrats,' of whom 'Gys Grandit' is a leader. In
+any case, it is most reprehensible that you, a Cardinal-prince of the
+Church, should have permitted yourself to become involved in such a
+doubtful business. The miracle may have taken place,--but if so, you
+should have no cause to deny your share in it; and however much you may
+be gifted with the power of healing, I cannot reconcile your duty to us
+with the Vergniaud scandal! Since you were here last, I have
+investigated that matter thoroughly,--I have read a full report of the
+blasphemous address the Abbe preached from his pulpit in Paris, and I
+cannot, no I cannot"--here the Pope raised his thin white hand with a
+gesture of menace that was curiously powerful for one so seemingly
+frail--"I cannot forgive or forget the part you have taken in this
+deplorable affair!"
+
+The Cardinal looked up with a touch of pain and protest.
+
+"Holy Father, I strove to obey the command of Christ--'Forgive that ye
+may be forgiven'!--I cannot be sorry that I did so obey it;--for now
+the offender is beyond the reach of either punishment or absolution. He
+must answer for his deeds to God alone!"
+
+The Pope turned his eyes slowly round in his waxenlike head to
+Gherardi--then to Moretti--and seeing confirmation of the news in their
+looks, fixed them again as immovably as before upon the Cardinal. The
+faint shadow of a cold smile flickered on his long slit-like mouth.
+
+"Dead!" he murmured, and he nodded slowly, and beat with one finger on
+the back of the other hand, as though keeping time mechanically to some
+funeral march in his brain. "Dead! A fortunate thing for him! An escape
+from worse than death, so far as this life is concerned! But what of
+the next?--'where the worm dieth not and the fire is not quenched!'"
+And here the representative of St. Peter smiled pallidly. "Dead!--but
+his works live after him; and his sin-begotten son also lives, to
+spread his pernicious writings through the world, and incite the
+already disobedient to further license. Therefore the Church must still
+publicly condemn his memory, as a warning to the faithful. And you,
+Cardinal Bonpre, must receive from us a necessary measure of
+correction, for having pardoned one who in his last discourse to
+humanity attacked the Church and slandered it. To one of your eminence
+and reputation, the lesson may seem hard, but a chastening reproof can
+but purify the spirit, and free it from that pride which apes humility!"
+
+The Cardinal bent his head patiently and remained silent.
+
+Monsignor Moretti advanced a step towards the Papal throne.
+
+"The boy"--he began.
+
+A slight animation warmed the chill lifelessness of the Pope's
+features. "True! I had almost forgotten!" he said. Then to the
+Cardinal, "Where is the boy you rescued from the streets, who lives
+with you, and who witnessed the miracle at Rouen?"
+
+Manuel had till now stood aside, half hidden in the shadow of the
+crimson damask which, falling from ceiling to floor in rich luxurious
+folds, draped the corners of the room, but at these words he advanced
+at once.
+
+"I am here!" he said.
+
+Fronting the Pope, with his fair head thrown back, and his blue eyes
+flashing with all the soul-light of a swift, unwarped intelligence, he
+stood,--and the white shrunken figure of the old man in the gilded
+chair raised itself as if by some interior electric force, slowly,
+slowly--higher and higher--the deep-set old eyes staring into the
+brilliant youthful ones--staring--staring till they seemed to protrude
+and tremble under their shelving brows, like the last sparks of a flame
+about to fall into extinction. Gherardi made a quick step forward.
+
+"My lord Cardinal!" he said significantly, "Should not your waif and
+stray have been taught how to comport himself before he came here? He
+does not kneel to the Holy Father!"
+
+The Cardinal opened his lips to speak, but Manuel stayed him by a
+slight gesture.
+
+"I may not kneel to any man!" he said, "But to God only! For it is
+written,' Call no man your Father upon the earth, for One is your
+Father which is in Heaven. Neither be ye called Masters, for One is
+your Master, even Christ.' How then," and he came nearer to the Pope's
+foot-stool, "can you be called 'Father'? or 'Holy'? For there is none
+Holy but God!"
+
+The deep silence which had fallen like a spell upon them all in the
+antechamber, fell now with redoubled impressiveness. The Pope, gripping
+the arms of his gilded chair, forced himself fully upright, and his
+lips trembled.
+
+"Whence came you, and of what parentage are you?" he asked slowly,
+enunciating his words with even more than his usual harsh distinctness.
+
+"That is my own secret!" answered the boy--"The Cardinal accepted me
+without question!"
+
+"Which is but a fresh proof of the Cardinal's unwisdom," said the Pope
+severely, "And we shall not follow his example in this or in any other
+matter!" And turning to Moretti he enquired, "Does this boy understand
+he is here as a witness to the miracle effected at Rouen?"
+
+"As a witness to the Truth--yes! I understand!" said Manuel quickly,
+before Moretti could answer. "The miracle was no miracle!"
+
+"No miracle!" exclaimed the Pope, moved at last from his usual
+inflexibility, "Do you hear that, Domenico?" turning excitedly to
+Gherardi, "No miracle!"
+
+"No miracle!" repeated Manuel, steadily--"Nothing but the law of Nature
+working in response to the law of God, which is Love! The child was
+healed of his infirmity by the power of unselfish prayer. Are we not
+told 'Ask and ye shall receive'? But the asking must be pure! The
+prayer must be untainted by self-interest! God does not answer prayer
+that is paid for in this world's coin! No miracle was ever wrought for
+a fee! Only when perfect love and perfect faith exist between the
+creature and the Creator, are all things possible!"
+
+A nervous twitching of the Pope's features showed his suppressed
+irritation at this reply.
+
+"The boy jests with us!" he said angrily, "He defends his benefactor,
+but he either does not understand, or else is regardless of our
+authority!"
+
+"What, do you not also believe?" asked Manuel, placing one foot on the
+first step of the Pope's throne, and looking him straightly in the
+face, "Do you not even affirm that God answers prayers? Do YOU not
+pray? Do you not assert that you yourself are benefited and
+helped--nay, even kept alive by the prayers of the faithful? Then why
+should you doubt that Cardinal Bonpre has, by his prayer, rescued one
+life--the life of a little child? Is not your Church built up for
+prayer? Do you not command it? Do you not even insist upon the 'vain
+repetitions' which Christ forbade? Do you not summon the people to pray
+in public?--though Christ bade all who truly sought to follow Him to
+pray in secret? And amid all the false prayers, the unthinking, selfish
+petitions, the blasphemous demands for curses and confusion to fall
+upon enemies and contradictors, the cowardly cryings for pardon from
+sinners who do not repent, that are sent up to the throne of the Most
+High,--is it marvellous that one prayer, pure of all self and
+sophistry, ascending to God, simply to ask for the life of a child
+should be heard and granted?"
+
+His voice rang through the silence with a pure intonation, unlike any
+human voice in the world--and as he spoke, the Pope slowly drew back in
+his chair, further and further away from the young, beautiful face that
+confronted his own so steadily. The dumb sense of stupefaction that had
+before possessed Gherardi and Moretti in the presence of this child,
+seized them again now,--and slow tears welled up into the Cardinal's
+eyes, as, clasping his withered hands, he waited in fear and awe,
+listening and wondering,--overwhelmed by the strangeness of the scene.
+Like a shrunken white mummy set in a gilded sarcophagus, the
+representative of St. Peter huddled himself together, reflections of
+the daylight on the crimson hangings around him casting occasional
+gleams of crimson athwart his bony hands and cadaverous
+features;--while on the first step of his throne the aerial form of the
+beautiful boy, with his fair face, full flashing eyes, and radiant
+hair, stood like an Angel suddenly descended at the portal of the
+mummy's tomb.
+
+"Faith must surely be weaker in these days than in the days of Christ,"
+continued Manuel, "The disciples were not always wise or brave; but
+they believed in the power of their Master! You,--with so many
+centuries of prayer behind you,--will surely not say as John
+did--'Master, we saw one casting out devils in Thy name, and he
+followeth not us!' Because this miracle is unexpected and exceptional,
+do you say of your good Cardinal, 'He followeth not us'? Remember how
+Christ answered,--'Forbid him not, for there is no man which shall do a
+miracle in my name that can speak evil of me!'"
+
+Still the same silence reigned. A shaft of sunlight falling through the
+high oriel window, touched the boy's hair with a Pentecostal flame of
+glory.
+
+"You sent for me," he went on, "and I have come! They say I must be
+taught. Will you teach me? I would know many things! Tell me for one,
+why are You here, shut away from the cities, and the people? Should you
+not be among them? Why do you stay here all alone? You must be very
+unhappy!"
+
+A sudden quivering light illumined the jewel-like dark eyes of the
+seeming mummy in the chair--its lips moved--but no sound came from them.
+
+"To be here all alone!" went on Manuel, "And a whole world outside
+waiting to be comforted! To have vast wealth lying about you
+unused--with millions and millions of poor, starving, struggling, dying
+creatures, near at hand, cursing the God whom they have never been
+taught to know or to bless! To be safely sheltered while others are in
+danger! To know that even kings and emperors are trembling on their
+thrones because of the evil days that are drawing near in punishment
+for evil deeds!--to feel the great pulsating ache of the world's heart
+beating through every hour of time, and never to stretch forth a hand
+of consolation! Surely this must make you very sad! WILL YOU NOT COME
+OUT WITH ME?"
+
+With a strong effort the Pope raised himself and looked into the
+pleading Angel-face. With his sudden movement, Gherardi and Moretti
+also stirred from their frozen attitudes of speechless amazement, and
+would have approached, but that the Pope signed them away with so
+fierce and impatient a gesture that they shrank back appalled. And
+still he gazed at Manuel as if his very soul were passing through his
+eyes.
+
+"Come out with you!" he said, in a hoarse, faint whisper--"Come out
+with you!"
+
+"Yes!--come out with me!" repeated Manuel, his accents vibrating with a
+strange compelling sweetness, "Come out and see the poor lying at the
+great gates of St. Peter's--the lame, the halt, the blind--come and
+heal them by a touch, a prayer! You can, you must, you shall heal
+them!--if you WILL! Pour money into the thin hands of the
+starving!--come with me into the miserable places of the world,--come
+and give comfort! Come freely into the courts of kings, and see how the
+brows ache under the crowns!--and the hearts break beneath the folds of
+velvet and ermine! Why stand in the way of happiness, or deny even
+emperors peace when they crave it? Your mission is to comfort, not to
+condemn! You need no throne! You want no kingdom!--no settled place--no
+temporal power! Enough for you to work and live as the poorest of all
+Christ's ministers,--without pomp, without ostentation or public
+ceremonial, but simply clothed in pure holiness! So shall God love you
+more! So shall you pass unscathed through the thick of battle, and
+command Brotherhood in place of Murder! Go out and welcome
+Progress!--take Science by the hand!--encourage Intellect!--for all
+these things are of God, and are God's gifts divine! Live as Christ
+lived, teaching the people personally and openly;--loving them, pitying
+them, sharing their joys and sorrows, blessing their little children!
+Deny yourself to no man;--and make of this cold temple in which you now
+dwell selfimprisoned, a home and refuge for the friendless and the
+poor! COME OUT WITH ME!"
+
+As he thus spoke, with a living, breathing enthusiasm of entreaty,
+which might have moved even the dry bones in the valley of the
+prophet's vision to rise up and become a great standing army, the
+Pope's figure seemed to grow more and more attenuated,--his worn white
+hands grasping the gilt arms of his chair, looked like the claws of a
+dead bird--and his face, shrunken and withered, like a Chinese ivory
+carving of some forgotten idol.
+
+"Come out with me and minister with your own hands to the aged and
+dying!" pursued Manuel, "And so shall you grow young! Command that the
+great pictures, the tapestries, the jewels, the world's trash of St.
+Peter's, be sold to the rich, who can afford to set them in free and
+open places where all the poorest may possess them! But do not You
+retain them! You do not need them--your treasure must be sympathy for
+all the world! Not ONE section of the world,--not ONE form of
+creed,--but for all!--if you are truly the Dispenser of Christ's
+Message to the earth! Come--unprotected, save by the Cross! Come with
+no weapon of defence--'heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, raise the
+dead, cast out devils! Freely ye have received, freely give! Provide
+neither gold nor silver nor brass in your purse,'--come, and by your
+patience--your gentleness--your pardon--your love to all men, show that
+'the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand!' Walk fearless in the thick of
+battles, and your very presence shall engender peace! For the Holy
+Spirit shall surround and encompass you; the fiercest warriors shall
+bend before you, as they never would if you assumed a world's throne or
+a world's sovereignty! Come, uncrowned, defenceless;--but strong in the
+Spirit of God! Think of all the evil which has served as the foundation
+for this palace in which you dwell! Can you not hear in the silence of
+the night, the shrieks of the tortured and dying of the Inquisition? Do
+you never think of those dark days, ten and twelve hundred years after
+Christ, when no virtue seemed left upon the earth?--when the way to
+this very throne was paved by poison and cold steel?--when those who
+then reigned here, and occupied Your place, led such infamous lives
+that the very dogs might have been ashamed to follow in their
+footsteps!--when they professed to be able to sell the Power of the
+Holy Ghost for so much gold and silver? Remember the words, 'Whoso
+shall blaspheme against the Holy Ghost it shall not be forgiven him,
+either in this world or in the world to come.' Look back upon the
+Past--and look out upon the Present! Try to understand the sufferings
+of the forsaken people!--the pain--the bewilderment--the groping for
+life in death!--and come out with me! Come and preach Christ as He
+lived and died, and WAS, and IS! COME OUT WITH ME!"
+
+The dreadful, dumb spell remained unbroken. The loom seemed invested
+with a strange solemnity--the figures of the human beings in it were
+like images frozen into rigidity--even Cardinal Bonpre appeared
+stricken by this mental paralysis, and not a fold of his rich attire
+stirred with so much as a pulsation of natural breath. Only Manuel
+seemed truly alive--his slight boyish figure was instinct with
+ardour--his face was radiant, and his eyes brilliant as stars. And now,
+withdrawing himself a little from the motionless creature seated
+stiffly on the Papal throne, with its deep, dark eyes alone giving sign
+of life by their unwearied stare and feverish glitter, he raised his
+head with a royal gesture of mingled appeal and warning.
+
+"Come out with me!" he exclaimed, "For there are wonderful things in
+the world to-day!--wonderful, beautiful, and terrible! Take your share
+in them, and find God in every glory! For with all the wisdom and the
+splendour,--with all the flashing light of Heaven poured out upon the
+darkness of the Sorrowful Star, its people are weary,--they are lost in
+the confusion and clamour of their own desires--they would fain serve
+God, but know not where to find Him, because a thousand, aye a million
+churches stand in the way!--churches, which are like a forest of dark
+trees, blocking out the radiance of the Sun! God, who manifests His
+power and tenderness in the making of the simplest leaf, the smallest
+bird, is lost to the understanding and affection of humanity in the
+multitude of Creeds! Come out with me,--simple and pure, gentle and
+strong! Tell all the lost and the wandering that there never was, and
+never will be but one God supreme and perfect, whose name is Love,
+whose work is Love!--and whose Messenger, Christ, pronounced the New
+Commandment Love instead of Hate! Come out with me while it is yet day,
+for the night cometh when no man can work! Come and lift up the world
+by your very coming! Stretch out your hands in benediction over kings
+and beggars alike!--there are other roses to give than Golden ones to
+Queens! There are poor women who share half they earn with those still
+poorer--there are obscure lives which in their very obscurity, are
+forming the angel-nature, and weaving the angel's crown!--look for
+these in the world--give THEM your Golden Roses! Leave rulers and
+governments alone, for you should be above and beyond all rulers and
+governments! You should be the Herald of peace,--the Pardoner of sin,
+the Rescuer of the fallen, and the Refuge of the distressed! Come out
+with me, and be all this to the world, so that when the Master comes He
+may truly find you working in His vineyard!"
+
+Another dead pause ensued. Not a sound, not a breath disturbed the
+heavy silence which seemed to have grown deeper than before. And
+Manuel, looking eagerly again and closely into the Pope's face, went on
+with increasing ardour and passion.
+
+"Come out with me!" he said, "Or if you will not come,--then beware of
+the evil days which are at hand! The people are wandering to and fro,
+crossing all lands, struggling one against the other, hoarding up
+useless gold, and fighting for supremacy!--but 'the day of the Lord
+shall come like a thief in the night, and blessed is he who shall be
+found watching!' Watch! The hour is growing dark and full of
+menace!--the nations are as frightened children, losing faith, losing
+hope, losing strength! Put away,--put away from you the toys of
+time!--quench in your soul the thirst for gold, for of this shall come
+nothing but corruption! Why trifle with the Spirit of holy things? Why
+let your servants use the Name of the Most High to cover hypocrisy? Why
+crave for the power of temporal things which passes away in the dust of
+destroyed kingdoms? For the Power of the Spirit is greater than all!
+And so it shall be proved! The Spirit shall work in ways where it has
+never been found before!--it shall depart from the Churches which are
+unworthy of its Divine inspiration!--it shall invest the oaths of
+Science!--it shall open the doors of the locked stars! It shall display
+the worlds invisible;--the secrets of men's hearts, and of closed
+graves!--there will be terror and loss and confusion and shame to
+mankind,--and this world shall keep nothing of all its treasures but
+the Cross of Christ! Rome, like Babylon, shall fall!--and the Powers of
+the Church shall be judged as the Powers of Darkness rather than of
+Light, because they have rejected the Word of their Master, and 'teach
+for doctrine the commandments of men!' Disaster shall follow swift upon
+disaster, and the cup of trembling shall be drained again to its last
+dregs, as in the olden days, unless,--unless perchance--you will come
+out with me!"
+
+With the last words a sort of galvanic shock seemed to be imparted to
+the rigid figure in the chair. Springing upright suddenly, his voice
+rang out like a clarion, discordantly yet clearly.
+
+"In the name of God," he cried, "Who and what is this boy! How came he
+with Cardinal Bonpre? And you, Domenico!--do you stand by and permit
+this affront to me!--the living Head of the Church! From a child!--a
+tramp of the streets!--who dares to speak to me!--who dares to
+reproach, to prophesy--aye, to blaspheme! and teach Me,--"
+
+"As One having authority,--and not as the Scribes!" said Manuel, with
+one swift flashing glance, which like a shaft of lightning seemed to
+pierce through flesh and bone,--for, as he met that radiant and
+commanding look, the jewel-like eyes of the Pope lost their lustre and
+became fixed and glassy,--he put his hand to his throat with a choking
+gasp for breath,--and like a dead body which had only been kept in
+place by some secret mechanical action, he fell back in his chair
+senseless, his limbs stretching themselves out with a convulsive
+shudder into stark immovability.
+
+Gherardi started from his stupor, and rushed to his assistance, ringing
+the bell violently which summoned the valet from the antechamber,--and
+Moretti, with a fierce oath, pushing Manuel aside, rushed to the chair
+in which the Pope's fainting figure lay,--all was confusion;--and in
+the excitement and terror which had overwhelmed Cardinal Bonpre at the
+unprecedented scene, Manuel suddenly touched him on the arm.
+
+"Follow me!" he said, "We are no longer needed here! Come!--let us go
+hence!"
+
+Hardly knowing what he did the old man obeyed, trembling in every limb
+as Manuel, grasping him firmly by the hand, led him from the apartment,
+and on through the winding corridors of the huge building, out into the
+open air. No one questioned them,--no one interfered with their
+progress. Benediction was being sung in one of the many chapels of St.
+Peter's, and the solemn sound of the organ reached them, softened and
+mellowed by distance, as they stood on the steps of the Vatican, where
+the Cardinal, pausing to recover breath and equanimity, gazed at his
+strange foundling in alarm and bewilderment.
+
+"Manuel!" he murmured feebly, "Child!--what have you done!"
+
+"Only what I am bound to do!" replied Manuel simply, "I have said no
+more than it is right to say, if Christ's words are true! Dear friend,
+be at peace! You will not suffer misjudgment long!"
+
+The music stealing out from the distant chapel, floated round them in
+large circles of solemn melody,--and the glow of sunset lit the clear
+sky with a warm red radiance, flecked with golden clouds of glory.
+
+"He would not come with me!" said Manuel, with a slight gesture
+backward to the sombre portals they had just passed, "And he will never
+come! But YOU will!"
+
+And smiling,--with his fair face turned to the radiant sky,--he rested
+his hand lightly on the Cardinal's arm as they descended the broad
+marble steps, and left the great Palace of the Popes together.
+
+
+
+
+XXIX.
+
+While the foregoing scene was taking place at the Vatican, Angela
+Sovrani, left to herself for some hours, took the opportunity to set
+her great picture "on view" for the coming morrow. Locking both doors
+of her studio, she began to arrange the room; her huge canvas was
+already on a movable easel supplied with wheels, which ran lightly and
+easily over the polished floor without making any sound. At its summit
+a brass rod was attached, and on this a curtain of golden-coloured silk
+was hung, the folds of which at present concealed the painting from
+view. The top-light of the studio was particularly good on this special
+afternoon, as the weather was clear, and the Roman sky translucent and
+bright as an opal, and Angela, as she wheeled her "great work" into
+position, sang for pure lightness of heart and thankfulness that all
+was done. In her soul she had the consciousness that what she had
+produced from her brain and hand was not altogether unworthy. For,
+though to the true artist, no actual result can ever attain to the
+beauty of the first thought or ideal of the thing to be performed,
+there is always the consolation that if one's best and truest feeling
+has been earnestly put into the work, some touch, however slight, of
+that ideal beauty must remain. The poet's poem is never so fine as the
+poet's thought. The thought is from the immortal and invincible
+soul,--the poem has to be conveyed through the grosser body, clothed in
+language which must always be narrow and inadequate. Hence the artist's
+many and grievous limitations. To the eyes of the spirit all things
+appear transfigured, because lifted out of the sphere of material
+vision. But when we try to put these "beautiful things made new, for
+the delight of the sky-children" on paper or canvas, in motionless
+marble or flexible rhyme,--we are weighted by grosser air and the
+density of bodily feeling. So it was with Angela Sovrani, iwhose
+compact little head were folded the splendid dreams of genius like
+sleeping fairies in a magic cave;--and thoughtful and brilliant though
+she was, she could not, in her great tenderness for her affianced lover
+Florian Varillo, foresee that daily contact with his weaker and smaller
+nature, would kill those dreams as surely as a frost-wind kills the
+buds of the rose,--and that gradually, very gradually, the coarser
+fibre of his intelligence mingling with hers, would make a paltry and
+rough weaving of the web of life, instead of a free and gracious
+pattern. She never thought of such possibilities--she would have
+rejected the very idea of them with scorn and indignation. She would
+have declared that her love for Florian was the very root and source of
+her art,--that for him she worked--for him she lived. So indeed she
+believed, in her finely-fervent self-delusion,--but it was not ordained
+that this glamour should last,--for hers was a nature too rare and
+valuable to be sacrificed, and the Higher destinies had begun to
+approve her as precious. Therefore, as is the case with all precious
+things, the furnace was preparing for the shaping of the gold,--the
+appointed Angel of her Fate was already hovering near, holding ready
+the cup of bitterness which all must drain to the dregs, before knowing
+what it is to drink of "the new wine in the Kingdom of God."
+
+"I wonder," thought the girl now, as she stepped lightly from one
+corner of her studio to the other, rearranging a vase here--a bust
+there--and imparting to the whole room that indefinable air of grace
+and luxury which can only be bestowed by the trained hand of a
+practised artist,--"I wonder if Florian will be proud? People will
+certainly talk of my picture,--some will praise and some will condemn;
+and this mixture of praise and condemnation is what is called Fame. But
+will my beloved love me more? Will he be glad that I am found worthy in
+the world's sight?--or will he think I am usurping his place? Ah!" and
+she paused in her work, looking vaguely before her with thoughtful,
+wondering eyes, "That is where we women workers have to suffer! Men
+grudge us the laurel, but they forget that we are trying to win it only
+that we may wear the rose more fittingly! A woman tries to do a great
+and a noble thing, not that she may vex of humiliate a man by
+superiority,--but that she may be more worthy to be his mate and helper
+in the world,--and also, that her children may reverence her for
+something more than the mere animal duties of nursing and tenderness.
+How proud to-day would be any man or woman who could point to Rosa
+Bonheur and say, 'She was my mother!' And yet perhaps this idea of mine
+is too fantastic,--the Brownings left a son--and he has nothing of
+their genius or their enthusiasm."
+
+She moved to the grand piano and set it open; as she did so a thought
+of Sylvie came across her mind, and she smiled.
+
+"Dear little rose-bud of a woman!" she mused, "How glad I am that she
+is happy! And how delightful it is to see the pride she takes in Aubrey
+Leigh!--how she studies his books, and pores over his statistics and
+theories! I really believe she knows them all by heart! And what
+wonderful schemes she is building up in her mind for the people in whom
+he is so interested! What a sensation she will make if she intends to
+work with her husband as thoroughly and devotedly as her ideas imply!
+Her marriage will be an immense disappointment to certain persons I
+could name!" and she smiled, "Dear Sylvie! With all her goodness, and
+grace and beauty, her name will sound more obnoxious at the Vatican
+than even the name of Gys Grandit!"
+
+She had lifted a cluster of lilies from a vase to regroup them, and as
+her thoughts turned in this direction she bent her eyes upon their
+large white blooms meditatively, and a faint rose flush warmed her
+cheeks.
+
+"Ce sont des fleurs etranges, Et traitresses, avec leurs airs de
+sceptres d'anges, De thyrses lumineux pour doigts de seraphins, Leurs
+parfums sont trop forts, tout ensemble, et trop fins."
+
+"It is strange," she thought, "that I should have corresponded so many
+months with 'Gys Grandit' through my admiration for his books--and that
+he should turn out to be the son of poor Abbe Vergniaud! Cyrillon! It
+is a pretty name! And since we met--since that terrible scene in the
+church in Paris,--since he knew who I was, he has not written. And, and
+for his poor father's death . . . I suppose he thought it was
+sufficient to telegraph the news of the death to my uncle. But I am
+sorry he does not write to me any more!--I valued his letters--they
+were such brilliant essays on all the movements and politics of the
+time. It was just a little secret of mine;--it was pleasant to think I
+was in correspondence with such a genius. However, he has had so much
+to think of since then . . ." She set the lilies in their vase again,
+inhaling their delicious odour as she did so.
+
+"The flowers of the saints and martyrs!" she said, "I do not wonder
+that the artists chose them for that purpose; they are so white-and
+pure-and passionless . . ."
+
+A slight crash disturbed her self-communion, and she hastened to see
+what had fallen. It was a small clay figure of "Eros",--a copy of a
+statuette found in the ruins of Pompeii. The nail supporting its
+bracket had given way. Angela had been rather fond of this little work
+of art, and as she knelt to pick up the fragments she was more vexed at
+the accident than she cared to own. She looked wistfully at the pretty
+moulded broken limbs of the little god as she put them all in a heap
+together.
+
+"What a pity!" she murmured, "I am not at all superstitious, yet I wish
+anything in the room had come to grief rather than this! It is not a
+good omen!"
+
+She moved across the floor again and stood for a moment inert, one hand
+resting lightly on the amber silk draperies which veiled her picture.
+
+"There was no truth at all in that rumour about Florian's
+'Phillida';--'Pon-Pon,' as they call her," she thought, "She serves as
+a model to half the artists in Rome. Unfortunate creature. She is one
+of the most depraved and reckless of her class, so I hear--and Florian
+is far too refined and fastidious to even recognise such a woman,
+outside his studio. The Marquis Fontenelle only wished to defend
+himself by trying to include another man in the charge of libertinage,
+when he himself was meditating the most perfidious designs on Sylvie.
+Poor Fontenelle! One must try and think as kindly as possible of him
+now--he is dead. But I cannot think it was right of him to accuse my
+Florian!"
+
+Just then she heard a soft knocking. It came from the door at the
+furthest end of the studio, one which communicated with a small stone
+courtyard, which in its turn opened out to a narrow street leading down
+to the Tiber. It was the entrance at which models presented themselves
+whenever Angela needed them.
+
+"Angela!" called a melodious voice, which she recognised at once as the
+dearest to her in the world. "Angela!"
+
+She hurried to the door but did not open it.
+
+"Florian!" she said softly, putting her lips close to the panel,
+"Florian, caro mio! Why are you here?"
+
+"I want to come in," said Florian, "I have news, Angela! I must see
+you!"
+
+She hesitated a moment longer, and then she undid the bolt, and
+admitted him. He entered with a smiling and victorious air.
+
+"I am all alone here," she said at once, before he could speak, "Father
+is at Frascati on some business--and my uncle the Cardinal is at the
+Vatican. Will you not come back later?"
+
+For all answer, Florian took her in his arms with quite a reverent
+tenderness, and kissed her softly on brow and lips.
+
+"No, I will stay!" he said, "I want to have you all to myself for a few
+minutes. I came to tell you, sweetest, that if I am to be the first to
+see your picture and pass judgment on it, I had better see it now, for
+I am going away to-morrow!"
+
+"Going away!" echoed Angela, "Where?"
+
+"To Naples," he answered, "Only for a little while. They have purchased
+my picture 'Phillida et les Roses' for one of the museums there, and
+they want me to see if I approve of the position in which it is to be
+placed. They also wish to honour me by a banquet or something of the
+kind--an absurdly unnecessary affair, but still I think it is perhaps
+advisable that I should go."
+
+He spoke with an affectation of indifference, but any observer of him
+whose eyes were not blinded by affection, could have seen that he
+exhaled from himself an atmosphere of self-congratulation at the
+banquet proposition. Little honours impress little minds;--and a faint
+thrill of pain moved Angela as she saw him thus delighted with so poor
+and ordinary a compliment. In any other man it would have moved her to
+contempt, but in Florian--well!--she was only just a little sorry.
+
+"Yes, perhaps it might look churlish of you not to accept," she said,
+putting away from her the insidious suggestion that perhaps if Florian
+loved her as much as he professed, an invitation to a banquet at Naples
+would have had no attraction for him as compared with being present at
+the first view of her picture on the morning she had herself
+appointed--"I think under the circumstances you had better not see the
+picture till you come back!"
+
+"Now, Angela!" he exclaimed vexedly, "You know I will not consent to
+that! You have promised me that I shall be the first to see it--and
+here I am!"
+
+"It should be seen by the morning light," said Angela, a touch of
+nervousness beginning to affect her equanimity,--"This light is pale
+and waning, though the afternoon is so clear. You cannot see the
+coloring to the best advantage!"
+
+"Am I not a painter also?" asked Varillo playfully, putting his arm
+round her waist,--"And can I not guess the effect in the morning light
+as well as if I saw it? Come, Angela mia! Unveil the great prodigy!"
+and he laughed,--"You began it before we were affianced;--think what
+patience I have had for nearly two years!"
+
+Angela did not reply at once. Somehow, his light laugh jarred upon her.
+
+"Florian," she said at last, raising her truthful, beautiful eyes fully
+to his, "I do not think you quite understand! This picture has absorbed
+a great deal of my heart and soul--I have as it were, painted my own
+life blood into it--for I mean it to declare a truth and convey a
+lesson. It will either cover me with obloquy, or crown me with lasting
+fame. You speak jestingly, as if it were some toy with which I had
+amused myself these three years. Do you not believe that a woman's work
+may be as serious, as earnest, and strongly purposeful as a man's?"
+
+Still clasping her round the waist, Florian drew her closer, and
+pressing her head against his breast, he looked down on her smiling.
+
+"What sweet eyes you have!" he said, "The sweetest, the most trusting,
+the most childlike eyes I have ever seen! It would be impossible to
+paint such eyes, unless one's brushes were Raffaelle's, dipped in holy
+water. Not that I believe very much in holy water as a painter's
+medium! "He laughed,--he had a well-shaped mouth and was fond of
+smiling, in order that he might show his even pearly teeth, which
+contrasted becomingly with his dark moustache. "Yes, my Angela has
+beautiful eyes,--and such soft, pretty hair!" and he caressed it
+gently, "like little golden tendrils with a beam of the sunlight caught
+in it! Is not that a pretty compliment? I think I ought to have been a
+poet instead of a painter!"
+
+"You are both," said Angela fondly, with a little sigh of rest and
+pleasure as she nestled in his arms--"You will be the greatest artist
+of your time when you paint large subjects instead of small ones."
+
+His tender hold of her relaxed a little.
+
+"You think 'Phillida et les Roses' a small subject?" he asked, with a
+touch of petulance in his tone, "Surely if a small study is perfect, it
+is better than a large one which is imperfect?"
+
+"Of course it is!" replied the girl quickly--"By smallness I did not
+mean the size of the canvas,--I meant the character of the subject."
+
+"There is nothing small in the beauty of woman!" declared Varillo, with
+an enthusiastic air--"Her form is divine! Her delicious flesh
+tints--her delicate curves--her amorous dimples--her exquisite
+seductiveness--combined with her touching weakness--these qualities
+make of woman the one,--the only subject for a painter's brush, when
+the painter is a man!"
+
+Involuntarily Angela thought of "Pon-Pon," who had posed for the
+"Phillida," and a little shiver ran over her nerves like a sudden wind
+playing on the chords of an AEolian harp. Gently she withdrew herself
+from her lover's embrace.
+
+"And when the painter is a woman, should the only subject for her brush
+be the physical beauty of man?" she asked.
+
+Varillo gave an airy gesture of remonstrance.
+
+"Carissima mia! You shock me! How can you suggest such a thing! The two
+sexes differ in tastes and aspirations as absolutely as in form. Man is
+an unfettered creature,--he must have his liberty, even if it reaches
+license; woman is his dependent. That is Nature's law. Man is the
+conqueror--woman is his conquest! We cannot alter these things. That is
+one reason for the prejudice existing against woman's work--if it
+excels that of man, we consider it a kind of morbid growth--an
+unnatural protuberance on the face of the universe. In fact, it is a
+wrong balance of the intellectual forces, which in their action, should
+always remain on the side of man."
+
+"But if man abuses his power, may it not be taken from him altogether?"
+suggested Angela tranquilly, "If man, knowing that a life of
+self-indulgence destroys his intellectual capacity, still persists in
+that career, and woman, studying patiently to perfect herself, refuses
+to follow his example of vice, may it not happen that the intellectual
+forces may range themselves on the side of right rather than wrong, and
+invest woman with a certain supremacy in the end? It is a problem worth
+thinking of!"
+
+Varillo looked sharply at her. Had she heard anything of his private
+life in Rome?--a life he kept carefully concealed from everyone who
+might be likely to report his little amusements at the Palazzo Sovrani?
+A slight, very slight touch of shame pricked him, as he noted the grace
+of her figure, the dainty poise of her head on her slim white
+throat--the almost royal air of dignity and sweetness which seemed to
+surround her,--there was no doubt whatever of her superiority to the
+women he generally consorted with, and for a moment he felt
+remorseful,--but he soon dismissed his brief compunction with a laugh.
+
+"No, sweet Angela," he said gaily, "it is not worth thinking of!
+Believe me! I will not enter into any such profound discussions with
+you. My present time is too short, and your attractions too many! Why
+did you slip out of my arms so unkindly just now? Surely you were not
+offended? Comeback! Come, and we will go up to the great picture as
+lovers should, together--entwined in each other's arms!--and you shall
+then draw the mysterious curtain,--or shall I?"
+
+She still hesitated. Then after a pause, she came towards him once
+more, the soft colour alternately flushing and paling her cheeks, as
+she laid her hand on his arm.
+
+"You did not answer me," she said, "when I asked you just now if you
+believed that a woman's work could be as purposeful as a
+man's--sometimes indeed more so. You evaded the question. Why?"
+
+"Did I evade it?" and Varillo took her hand in his own and kissed
+it,--"Dolcesza mia, I would not pain you for the world!"
+
+A slight shadow clouded her face.
+
+"You will not pain me," she answered, "except by not being true to
+yourself and to me. You know how I have worked,--you know how high I
+have set my ambition for your sake--to make myself more worthy of you;
+but if you do honestly think that a woman's work in art must always be
+inferior to a man's, no matter how ardently she studies--no matter even
+if she has so perfected herself in drawing, anatomy, and colouring as
+to be admitted the equal of men in these studies--if the result must,
+in your mind, be nevertheless beneath that of the masculine attainment,
+why say so,--because then--then--"
+
+"Then what, my sweet philosopher?" asked Florian lightly, again kissing
+the hand he held.
+
+She fixed her eyes fully on him. "Then," she replied slowly, "I should
+know you better--I should understand you more!"
+
+An unpleasant twinge affected his nerves, and his eyelids quivered and
+blinked as though struck by a sudden shaft of the sun. This was the
+only facial sign he ever gave of the difficulty he at times experienced
+in meeting the straight, clear glance of his betrothed.
+
+"You would know me more, and love me less? Is that it?" he said
+carelessly. "My dear girl, why do you press the point? If you will have
+it, I tell you frankly, I think women are growing very clever, much too
+clever in fact,--and that the encouragement and impetus given to them
+in the Arts is a very great mistake. Because they are not all geniuses
+like my Angela! You are one in a thousand--or rather one in a
+million,--and for one Angela Sovrani we shall have a world of female
+daubers calling themselves artists and entering into competition with
+us, as if we had not already quite enough competition among our own
+sex! I honestly believe that with very rare exceptions woman's work is
+decidedly inferior and mediocre as compared to man's."
+
+Quickly Angela disengaged herself from his hold, her lips
+trembling--her eyes were full of a strange fire and brilliancy,--her
+slight figure seemed to grow taller as she stood for a moment like a
+queen, regarding him steadfastly from under her fair, level brows.
+
+"Then come and see!" she said, "I am not proud--I make no boast at all
+of what I have done--and no one perceives or deplores the faults of my
+work more than I do--but I know I have not altogether failed!"
+
+She moved away from him and stood opposite her veiled canvas,--then as
+Florian followed and joined her, with a swift action which had
+something of defiance as well as grace in it, she swept aside the
+concealing curtain. Florian recoiled with an involuntary cry,--and then
+remained motionless and silent,--stricken dumb and stupid by the
+magnificent creation which confronted him. This Angela's masterpiece! A
+woman's work! This stupendous conception! This perfect drawing! This
+wondrous colouring! Fully facing him, the central glory of the whole
+picture, was a figure of Christ--unlike any other Christ ever imagined
+by poet or painter--an etherealised Form through which the very light
+of Heaven itself seemed to shine,--supreme, majestic, and austerely
+God-like;--the face was more beautiful than any ever dreamed of by the
+hewers of the classic marbles--it was the face of a great
+Archangel,--beardless and youthful, yet kingly and commanding. Round
+the broad brows a Crown of Thorns shone like a diadem, every prickly
+point tipped with pale fire,--and from the light floating folds of
+intense white which, cloud-like, clung about the divine Form, faint
+flashes of the lightning gleamed. Above this grand Christ, the heavens
+were opened, pouring out a rain of such translucent purity of colour
+and radiance as never had been seen in any painted canvas before--but
+beneath, the clouds were black as midnight--confused, chaotic, and
+drifting darkly on a strong wind as it seemed into weird and witch-like
+shapes, wherein there were seen the sun and moon revolving pallidly,
+like globes of fire lost from their orbits and about to become extinct.
+And among those shifting black films were a crowd of human creatures,
+floating and falling into unknown depths of darkness, and striking out
+wild arms of appeal and entreaty and despair,--the faces of these were
+all familiar, and were the life-like portraits of many of those
+pre-eminent in the history of the time. Chief among them was the
+Sovereign Pontiff, waxen and wan and dark-eyed,--he was depicted as
+fastening fetters of iron round the body of a beautiful youth,
+laurel-crowned, the leaves of the laurel bearing faint gold letters
+which spelt the word "Science." Huddled beside him was a well-known
+leader of the Jesuits, busily counting up heaps of gold,--another
+remarkable figure was that of a well-known magnate of the Church of
+England, who, leaning forward eagerly, sought to grasp and hold the
+garment of the Pope, but was dragged back by the hand of a woman
+crowned with an Imperial diadem. After these and other principal
+personages came a confusion of faces--all recognisable, yet needing
+study to discern;--creatures drifting downwardly into the
+darkness,--one was the vivisectionist whose name was celebrated through
+France, clutching at his bleeding victim and borne relentlessly onwards
+by the whirlwind,--and forms and faces belong to men of every
+description of Church-doctrine were seen trampling underneath them
+other human creatures scarcely discernible. And over all this blackness
+and chaos the supernal figure of the Christ was aerially poised,--one
+hand was extended and to this a woman clung--a woman with a beautiful
+face made piteous in its beauty by long grief and patient endurance. In
+her other arm she held a sleeping child--and mother and child were
+linked together by a garland of flowers partially broken and faded. Her
+entreating attitude,--the sleeping child's helplessness--her worn
+face,--the perishing roses of earth's hope and joy,--all expressed
+their meaning simply yet tragically, and as the Divine Hand supported
+and drew her up out of the universal chaos below, the hope of a new
+world, a better world, a wiser world, a holier world, seemed to be
+distantly conveyed. But the eyes of the Christ were full of reproach,
+and were bent on the Representative of St. Peter binding the
+laurel-crowned youth, and dragging him into darkness,--and the words
+written across the golden mount of the picture, in clear black letters,
+seemed to be actually spoken aloud from the vivid color and movement of
+the painting. "Many in that day will call upon Me and say, Lord, Lord,
+have we not prophesied in Thy name, and in Thy name cast out devils,
+and done many wonderful works?"
+
+"Then will I say to them, I never knew you! Depart from me all ye that
+work iniquity!"
+
+As an Allegory the picture was a daring yet sublime reproach to the
+hypocrisy of the religious world,--as a picture it was consummate in
+every detail, and would have been freely admitted as a masterpiece of
+Raffaelle had Raffaelle been fortunate enough to paint it. Still
+Varillo kept silence. Angela's heart beat so loudly that she could
+almost hear it in the deep silence of the room. Every fine little nerve
+in her body was strained--to the utmost height of suspense,--she was
+afraid to look at her lover, or disturb the poise of his mental
+judgment by the lightest movement. And he? Thoughts, black as the chaos
+of cloud she had so powerfully portrayed, were stirring in his
+soul,--thoughts, base and mean and cowardly, which, gradually gathering
+force as he dwelt upon them, began to grow and spring up to a devilish
+height worked into life and being by a burning spark of jealousy,
+which, long smouldering in his nature, now leaped into a flame. No
+trace of the wicked inner workings of his mind, however, darkened the
+equanimity of his features, or clouded the serene, soft candour of his
+eyes, as he at last turned towards the loving, shrinking woman, who
+stood waiting for his approval, as simply and sweetly as a rose might
+wait for the touch of the morning sun. Slowly, and like little pellets
+of ice, his first words fell from his lips,
+
+"Did you do it all yourself?"
+
+The spell was disturbed--the charm broken. Angela turned very
+white--she drew a deep breath--and the tension on her nerves
+relaxed,--her heart gave one indignant bound--and then resumed its
+usual quiet beating, as with a strong effort she gathered all her
+dignity and force together, and replied simply,
+
+"Can you ask?"
+
+He looked at her. What an embodied insult to the arrogance of man she
+was! She!--a mere woman!--and the painter of the finest picture ever
+seen since Raffaelle and Michael Angelo left the world to work
+elsewhere. "Chaste as ice, pure as snow, thou shalt not escape
+calumny!" In his imagination he saw the world crowning her with
+imperishable bays--he heard the denunciation of the Vatican and the
+condemnation of the Churches, thunder uselessly against the grand
+lesson of her work, while crowds gathered adoringly before the most
+perfect Christ ever painted!--and he saw her name written up in letters
+of gold on the scroll of those whom history numbers as immortal! It
+should not be! It should never be! And again he spoke, enunciating his
+words with difficulty, for his lips were dry.
+
+"It is very fine! Quite marvellous, in fact!--almost unprecedented!
+That is why I ask, 'did you do it all yourself?' You must not be
+offended, Angela! I mean so well! You see the conception--the breadth
+of treatment--the gradation and tone of colour--are all absolutely
+masculine. Who first suggested the idea to you?"
+
+Still very pale, breathing quickly yet lightly, and maintaining an air
+of calm which was almost matter of fact, she answered,--
+
+"No one! Though perhaps, if it is traced to its source, it arose in my
+mind from seeing the universal dissatisfaction which most intelligent
+people feel with religion, as administered to them by the Churches.
+That, and a constant close study of the New Testament, set the thought
+in my brain,--a thought which gradually expressed itself in this form.
+So far as any work belongs to the worker, it is entirely my own
+creation. I am sorry you should have implied any doubt of it!"
+
+Here her voice trembled a little, but she quickly steadied it. He
+smiled--a little difficult smile--and slipping his right hand between
+his coat and vest, felt for something he always carried there. It
+should never be!
+
+"My dear Angela!" he said, with a gracious tranquillity that was almost
+dignity, "I do not doubt you in the least!--I merely SUGGEST what all
+the world will SAY! There is not an art-critic alive who will accept
+this--this extraordinary production--as the work of a woman! It is the
+kind of thing which might have been produced hundreds of years ago by a
+great master setting his pupils to work at different sections of the
+canvas,--but that one woman, painting all alone for three years, should
+have designed and executed such a masterpiece--yes!--I will admit it is
+a masterpiece!--is an unheard of and altogether an extraordinary thing,
+and you must not wonder if competent judges reject the statement with
+incredulity!"
+
+"It does not matter to me," said Angela, "what they reject or accept.
+You admit it is a masterpiece--that is enough for me. It is my own
+work, and you know it is!"
+
+"Dear little one!" he said, laughing forcedly, "How do I know? You have
+never admitted me into the studio once while you were at work!"
+
+"Florian!"
+
+The exclamation broke from her lips like a cry of physical pain.
+
+"That was a mistake of yours!" he went on recklessly, his eyes
+beginning to glitter with the fever raging in his mind, "You should not
+have shut the doors against your lover, my beloved! Nor would you admit
+your father either! That looks very strange!"
+
+White as a snowflake, yet with blazing eyes, Angela turned upon him.
+
+"Florian!" she said, "Do you--you of all people in the world--you to
+whom I have given all my love and confidence--mean to suggest that my
+work is not my own?"
+
+He looked at her, smiling easily.
+
+"Sweet Angela, not I! I know your genius--I worship it! See!" and with
+a light grace he dropped on one knee, and snatching her hand, kissed
+it--then springing up again, he said, "You are a great creature, my
+Angela!--the greatest artist in the world,--IF WE CAN ONLY MAKE THE
+WORLD BELIEVE IT!"
+
+Something in his voice, his manner, moved her to a vague touch of
+dread. Earnestly she looked at him,--wonderingly, and with a passionate
+reproach in her pure, true eyes. And still he smiled, while the fiends
+of envy and malice made havoc in his soul.
+
+"My glorious Angela!" he said, "My bride, my beautiful one! A veritable
+queen, to whom nations shall pay homage!" He threw one arm round her
+waist and drew her somewhat roughly to him. "You must not be vexed with
+me, sweetheart!--the world is a cruel world, and always doubts great
+ability in woman! I only prepare you for what most people will say. But
+_I_ do not doubt!--I know your power, and triumph in it!" He paused a
+moment, breathing quickly,--his eyes were fixed on the picture,--then
+he said, "If I may venture to criticise--there is a shadow--there, at
+the left hand side of the canvas--do you not see?"
+
+She disengaged herself from his clasp.
+
+"Where?" she asked, in a voice from which all spirit and hopefulness
+had fled.
+
+"You are sad? My Angela, have I discouraged you? Forgive me! I do not
+find fault,--this is a mere nothing,--you may not agree with me,--but
+does not that dark cloud make somewhat too deep a line near the faded
+roses? It may be only an effect of this waning light,--but I do think
+that line is heavy and might be improved. Be patient with me!--I only
+criticise to make perfection still more perfect!"
+
+Listlessly she moved closer to the picture, turning away from him as
+she did so.
+
+"Just the slightest softening of the tone--the finishing touch!" he
+murmured in caressing accents; while to himself he muttered--"It shall
+not be! It shall never be!" Then with a swift movement his hand
+snatched at the thing he always carried concealed near his breast--a
+flash of pointed steel glittered in the light,--and with one stealthy
+spring and pitiless blow, he stabbed her full and furiously in the back
+as she stood looking at the fault he had pretended to discover in her
+picture! One choking cry escaped her lips--
+
+"Florian--you! YOU--Florian!" Then reeling, she threw up her arms and
+fell, face forwards on the floor, insensible.
+
+He stood above her, dagger in hand,--and studied the weapon with
+strange curiosity. It was crimson and wet with blood. Then he stared at
+the picture. A faint horror began to creep over him. The great Christ
+in the centre of the painting seemed to live and move, and float
+towards him on clouds of blinding glory. His breath came and went in
+uneasy gasps.
+
+"Angela!" he muttered thickly,--"Angela!" She lay prone and horribly
+still. He was afraid to touch her. What had he done? Murdered her? Oh
+no!--he had done nothing--nothing at all,--she had merely fainted--she
+would be well presently! He smiled foolishly at this, still gazing
+straight at the picture, and holding the sharp blood-stained blade in
+his hand.
+
+"My love!" he said aloud,--then listened--as though waiting for an
+answer. And still he stared persistently at the glorious figure of the
+Christ, till the Divine eyes seemed to flash the fire of an everlasting
+wrath upon his treacherous soul.
+
+"To destroy the work? Or claim it?" he mused, "Either would be easy!
+That is, if she were dead!--." he paused,--amazed at his own thought.
+"If she were dead, it would be easy to swear _I_ had painted the
+picture! If she were dead!" Again he listened. "Angela!" he whispered.
+
+A door banging in the house startled him from his semi-stupor. His eyes
+wandered from the picture to the inanimate form lying at his feet.
+
+"Sweet Angela!" he said, a cold smile flickering on his lips, "You were
+always unselfish! You wished me to be the greatest artist of my
+time!--and perhaps I shall be!--now YOU are dead! My love!"
+
+A sudden clatter of horses' hoofs and rolling wheels wakened hollow
+echoes from the great stone courtyard below. It was the Cardinal
+returning from the Vatican. A panic seized him--his teeth chattered as
+with icy cold. He sprang swiftly to the door by which Angela had
+admitted him, and opened it cautiously,--then slinking out, locked it
+carefully behind him, took the key,--and fled. Once in the street, he
+never paused till he reached the corner of a dark projecting wall
+over-looking the Tiber, and here, glancing nervously round lest he
+should be observed, he flung his murderer's dagger and the key of the
+studio both into the water. Again he paused and listened--looking up at
+the frowning windows of the Palazzo Sovrani which could be dimly seen
+from where he stood. He had not meant to kill Angela. Oh no! He had
+come to the studio, full of love, prepared to chide her tenderly for
+the faults in her work,--till he saw that it was faultless; to make a
+jest of her ambition,--till he realized her triumph! And then,--then
+the devil had seized him--then--! A scarlet slit in the western horizon
+showed where the sun had sunk,--a soft and beautiful after-glow
+trembled over the sky in token of its farewell. A boy came strolling
+lazily down the street eating a slice of melon, and paused to fling the
+rind over the wall. The innocent, unconscious glance of the stripling's
+eyes was sufficient to set up a cowardly trembling in his body,--and
+turning round abruptly so that even this stray youth might not observe
+him too closely, he hurried away. And the boy, never regarding him at
+all, strolled on with the mellow taste of the fruit he had just enjoyed
+in his mouth, and presently, as if inspired thereby, awoke the
+slumbering echoes of the street with his high, fluting young treble,
+singing, "Che faro senza Eurydice!"
+
+
+
+
+XXX.
+
+Meanwhile Cardinal Bonpre had once more reached his own apartments,
+thankful enough to be there after his difficult experience at the
+Vatican. But he was neither fatigued nor depressed by what had
+occurred,--on the contrary he was conscious of an extraordinary vigour
+and lightness of heart, as though he had suddenly grown young again.
+Changing his scarlet robes of office for his every-day cassock, he
+seated himself restfully, and with a deep sigh of relief, in his easy
+chair near the writing-table, and first of all closing his eyes for a
+moment, while he silently prayed for guidance to the Supreme Judge of
+all secret intentions, he called Manuel to his side.
+
+"My child," he said gently, "I want you to listen to me very
+attentively. I do not think you quite understand what you have done
+to-day, do you?"
+
+Manuel raised his eyes with a clear look of confidence.
+
+"Yes. I have spoken to the Head of the Church of Rome," he
+answered,--"That is all. I have said to him, as Christ once said to the
+very Peter whom he represents, 'Thou savourest not the things that be
+of God, but those that be of men.'"
+
+The Cardinal regarded him straightly.
+
+"True! But for you, a mere child, to say to the Head of the Church what
+Christ said to St. Peter, will be judged as blasphemy. I have never
+urged you, as you know, to tell me who you are, or where you came from.
+I do not urge you now. For I feel that you have been sent to me for
+some special purpose--that young as you are, you have been entrusted by
+a Higher Power with some mission to me--for you possess the spirit of
+inspiration, prophecy and truth. I dare not question that spirit!
+Wherever I find it, in the young, in the old, in the wise or the
+ignorant I give it welcome. For you have uttered not only what I have
+myself thought, but what half the world is thinking, though you are
+only one of those 'babes and sucklings out of whose mouth the Lord hath
+ordained wisdom.' But what you have said at the Vatican will be judged
+as heresy--and I shall be counted heretic for having permitted you to
+speak thus boldly."
+
+"Your permission was not asked," said Manuel simply, "I was summoned to
+the Vatican, but I was not told what to say to the Pope. I spoke as I
+felt. No one interrupted me. The Pope listened to all my words. And I
+said no more than is true."
+
+"Truth is judged as libel nowadays in the world," answered the
+Cardinal, "And we have to confront the fact that we have incurred the
+displeasure, and have also invited the vengeance of the Sovereign
+Pontiff. Thus we must expect to suffer."
+
+"Then he who is called the visible Head of Christianity objects to the
+truth, and is capable of vengeance!" said Manuel, "That is a strange
+contradiction! But I will suffer whatever he pleases to inflict upon
+me. You shall suffer nothing!"
+
+The Cardinal smiled gravely.
+
+"My child, I am old, and whatever trouble is in store for me cannot
+last long. But I must guard you from harm with all the remaining powers
+of my life. Having constituted myself your protector and defender, I
+must continue to protect and defend. And so, Manuel, tomorrow or the
+next day I shall take you away to England. So far, at least, I will
+defy the powers of Rome!"
+
+His eyes flashed, and his whole person seemed to be invested with
+sudden strength, dignity and command. He pointed to the crucifix on the
+table before him.
+
+"He, the Holy One of the Heavens, was crucified for speaking the
+truth,--I can do no better than follow His divine example! If my soul
+is stretched on the crossbeams of injustice--if every tender emotion of
+my heart is tortured and slain--if I am stripped of honour and exposed
+to contempt, what matter! My glorious Master suffered likewise."
+
+Manuel was silent. He stood near the great chimney where the wood fire
+burned and crackled, casting a ruddy glow through the room. After a few
+minutes he turned his fair head towards the Cardinal with an earnest,
+scrutinising gaze in his expressive eyes.
+
+"Then, dear friend, you are not angry? You do not reproach me for what
+I have done?"
+
+"Reproach you? I reproach no one!" said Bonpre,--"Least of all, a
+child! For you speak unconsciously--as genius speaks;--you cannot weigh
+the meaning of your words, or the effect of what you say on the worldly
+or callous minds which have learned to balance motives and meanings
+before coining them into more or less ambiguous language. No!--I have
+nothing to reproach you with, Manuel,--I am thankful to have you by my
+side!"
+
+His eyes rested again upon the crucifix for a moment, and he went on,
+more to himself than to the boy,--
+
+"In the early days of our Lord, He spoke to the wise men in the Temple,
+and they were 'astonished at his understanding and answers.' But they
+did not reprove Him,--not then,--on the contrary, they listened. How
+often in our own days do young children ask us questions to which we
+cannot reply, and which they themselves perchance could easily answer
+if they but knew how to clothe their thoughts with speech! For the
+Spirit of God is made manifest in many ways, and through many
+methods;--sometimes it whispers a hint or a warning to us in the petals
+of the rose, sometimes in the radiance of the sunset on the sea,
+sometimes in the simple talk of a child younger even than you
+are,--'Except ye become as little children--!"
+
+He paused in his dreamy utterance, and turned in his chair listening.
+"What is that?" There was a noise of hurrying footsteps and murmuring
+voices,--that sort of half-muffled confusion in a household which bodes
+something wrong,--and all at once Prince Sovrani threw open the door of
+the Cardinal's apartments without ceremony, crying out as he entered,--
+
+"Where is Angela?"
+
+The Cardinal rose out of his chair, startled and alarmed.
+
+"Angela?" he echoed, "She is not here!"
+
+"Not here!" Prince Sovrani drew a sharp breath, and his face visibly
+paled,--"It is very strange! Her studio is locked at both
+entrances--yet the servants swear she has not passed out of the house!
+Besides she never goes out without leaving word as to where she has
+gone and when she is coming back!"
+
+"Her studio is locked on both sides!" repeated the Cardinal, "But that
+is quite easy to understand--her picture is unveiled, and no one is to
+be permitted to see it until to-morrow."
+
+"Yes--yes--" said the Prince Pietro impatiently, "I know all that,--but
+where is Angela herself? There is no sign of her anywhere! She cannot
+have gone out. Her maid tells me she was not dressed to go out. She was
+in her white working gown when last seen. Santissima Madonna!"--and old
+Sovrani gave a wild gesture of despair--"If any harm has happened to
+the child . . ."
+
+"Harm? Why what harm could happen? What harm could happen?" said the
+Cardinal soothingly,--"My dear brother, do not alarm yourself
+needlessly--"
+
+"Let us go to the studio," interposed Manuel suddenly--"She may not
+have heard you call her."
+
+He moved in his gentle light way out of the room, and without another
+word they followed. Outside the studio door they paused, and Prince
+Sovrani tried again and again to open it, calling "Angela!" now loudly,
+now softly, now entreatingly, now commandingly, all to no purpose. The
+servants had gathered on the landing, afraid of they knew not what, and
+one old man, the Prince's valet, shook his head dolefully at the
+continued silence.
+
+"Why not break open the door, Eccellenza?" he asked anxiously, "I know
+the trick of those old locks--if the Eccellenza will permit I can push
+back the catch with a strong chisel."
+
+"Do so then," replied his master, "I cannot wait--there is something
+horrible in the atmosphere!--something that chokes me! Quick! This
+suspense will kill me!"
+
+The old valet hurried away, and in two or three minutes, during which
+time both Prince Sovrani and the Cardinal knocked and called again
+outside the door quite uselessly, he returned with a strong iron chisel
+which he forced against the lock. For some time it resisted all
+efforts--then with appalling suddenness gave way and flew back, the
+door bursting wide open with the shock. For one instant the falling
+shadows of evening made the interior of the room too dim to see
+distinctly--there was a confused blur of objects,--the carved summit of
+a great easel,--a gold picture-frame shining round a wonderful mass of
+colouring on canvas--then gradually they discerned the outline of a
+small figure lying prone at the foot of the easel, stiff and
+motionless. With a dreadful cry of despair Sovrani dashed into the room.
+
+"Angela! Angela!"
+
+Falling on his knees he raised the delicate figure in his arms,--the
+little head drooped inanimate on his shoulder, and with the movement a
+coil of golden hair became unbound, and fell in soft waves over his
+trembling hands--the fair face was calm and tranquil--the eyes were
+closed,--but as the distracted man clasped that inert, beloved form
+closer, he saw what caused him to spring erect with a terrible oath,
+and cry for vengeance.
+
+"Murdered!" he exclaimed hoarsely--"Murdered! Brother, come close!--see
+here! Will you talk to me of God NOW! My last comfort in life--the last
+gift of my Gita, murdered!"
+
+The affrighted Cardinal tottered forward, and looking, saw that a deep
+stain of blood oozed over the soft white garments of the lifeless girl,
+and he wrung his hands in despair.
+
+"My God! My God!" he moaned, "In what have we offended Thee that Thou
+shouldst visit us with such heavy affliction? Angela, my child!--my
+little girl!--Angela!"
+
+The servants had by this time clustered round, a pale and terrified
+group, sobbing and crying loudly,--only the old valet retained
+sufficient presence of mind to light two or three of the lamps in the
+studio. As this was done, and the sudden luminance dispersed some of
+the darker shadows in the room, the grand picture on the easel was
+thrown into full prominence,--and the magnificent Christ, descending in
+clouds of glory, seemed to start from the painted canvas and move
+towards them all. And even while he wrung his hands and wept, the
+Cardinal's glance was suddenly caught and transfixed by this
+splendour,--he staggered back amazed, and murmured feebly--"Angela!
+THIS is her work!--this her great picture, and she--she is dead!"
+
+Sovrani suddenly clutched him by the arm, and drew him close to the
+couch where he had just laid the body of his daughter down.
+
+"Now, where was this God you serve, think you, when this happened?" he
+demanded, in a hoarse whisper, while his aged eyes glittered
+feverishly, and his stern dark face under the tossed white hair was as
+a frowning mask of vengeance,--"Is the world so rich in sweet women
+that SHE should be slain?"
+
+Half paralysed with grief, the unhappy Cardinal sank on his knees
+beside the murdered girl,--taking the passive hand he kissed it, the
+tears flowing down his furrowed cheeks. Her magnificent picture shone
+forth, a living presence in the room, but the thoughts of all were for
+the dead only, and the distracted Sovrani saw nothing but his child's
+pale, set face, closed eyes, and delicate figure, lying still with the
+red stain of blood spreading through the whiteness of her garments.
+None of them thought of Manuel--and it was with a shock of surprise
+that the Cardinal became aware of him, and saw him approaching the
+couch, raising his hand as he came, warningly.
+
+"Hush, hush!" he said, very gently, "It may be that she is not dead!
+She will be frightened when she wakes if she sees you weeping!"
+
+Prince Sovrani caught the words.
+
+"When she wakes!" he cried, "Poor boy, you do not know what you say!
+She will never wake! She is dead!"
+
+But Manuel was bending closely over the couch, and looking earnestly
+into Angela's quiet face. Cardinal Bonpre watched him wonderingly. And
+the old Prince stood, arrested as it were in the very midst of his
+wrath and sorrow by some force more potent than even the spirit of
+vengeance. The sobbing servants held their breath--and all stared as if
+fascinated at the young boy, as after a pause, he took Angela's hand
+that hung so inertly down, in one of his own, and with the other felt
+her heart. Then he spoke.
+
+"She is not dead!" he said simply,--"She has only swooned. Let someone
+fetch a physician to attend her--see!--she breathes!"
+
+With a wild, half-smothered cry Prince Sovrani sprang forward to see
+for himself if this blessed news was true. He and the Cardinal both,
+seized with a passionate anxiety, gazed and gazed at the fair beloved
+face in hope, in fear and longing,--and still Manuel stood beside the
+couch, stroking the small hand he held with thoughtful care and
+tenderness. All at once a faint sigh parted the sweet lips,--the bosom
+heaved with a struggle for breath. Her father fell on his knees,
+overcome, and hiding his face in his hands sobbed aloud in the
+intensity of his relief and joy, while the Cardinal murmured a devout
+'Thank God!' A few minutes passed, and still the fluttering uncertain
+breathings came and went, and still Manuel stood by the couch, quietly
+watchful. Presently the closed eyelids quivered and lifted,--and the
+beautiful true eyes shone star-like out upon the world again! She
+stirred, and tried to raise herself, but sank back exhausted in the
+effort. Then seeing the Cardinal, she smiled,--and her gaze wandered
+slowly to the bent, white-haired figure crouching beside her, whose
+whole frame was shaken by sobs.
+
+"Father!" she murmured--"Dearest father! What is it?"
+
+He lifted his tear-stained, agonised face, and seeing that the tender
+eyes regarding him were full of fear and wonder as well as love, he
+instantly controlled himself, and rising from his knees, kissed her
+gently.
+
+"I thought you were dead, my darling!" he said softly--"Hush now--do
+not speak! Lie quite still! You are hurt a little,--you must rest!--you
+will be better,--much better presently!"
+
+But Angela's looks had again wandered, and now they were fixed on
+Manuel. Over her whole face there came a sudden life and radiance.
+
+"Manuel!" she said eagerly--"Manuel, stay with me! Do not leave me!"
+
+Manuel smiled in answer to her appealing eyes, and came nearer.
+
+"Do not fear!" he said--"I will stay!"
+
+She closed her eyes again restfully, and her breathing grew lighter and
+easier. Just then one of the servants entered with the physician who
+was accustomed to attend the Sovrani household. His arrival roused
+Angela completely,--she became quite conscious, and evidently began to
+remember something of what had happened. The doctor raised her to see
+where she was injured, and quickly cutting away her blood-stained
+vesture, tenderly and carefully examined the wound.
+
+"I cannot understand how it is that she is not dead!" he said at
+last--"It is a miracle! This is a stab inflicted with some sharply
+pointed instrument,--probably a dagger--and was no doubt intended to be
+mortal. As it is, it is dangerous--but there is a chance of life." Then
+he addressed himself to Angela, who was looking at him with wide-open
+eyes and a most piteous expression. "Do you know me, my child?"
+
+"Oh, yes, doctor!" she murmured faintly.
+
+"Do you suffer much pain?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then can you tell me how this happened? Who stabbed you?"
+
+She shuddered and sighed.
+
+"No one!--that I can remember!"
+
+Her eyes closed--she moved her hands about restlessly as though seeking
+for something she had lost.
+
+"Manuel!"
+
+"I am here!" answered the boy gently.
+
+"Stay with me! I am so tired!"
+
+Again a convulsive trembling shook her fragile body from head to foot,
+and again she sighed as though her heart were breaking,--then she lay
+passively still, though one or two tears crept down her cheeks as they
+carried her tenderly up to her own room and laid her down on her simple
+little white bed, softly curtained, and guarded by a statue of the
+Virgin bending over it. There, when her cruel wound was dressed and
+bandaged, and the physician had given her a composing draught, she fell
+into a deep, refreshing slumber, and only Manuel stayed beside her as
+she slept.
+
+Meanwhile, down in the studio, Prince Sovrani and the Cardinal stayed
+together, talking softly, and gazing in fascinated wonder,
+bewilderment, admiration and awe at Angela's work unveiled. All the
+lamps in the room were now lit, and the great picture--a sublime Dream
+resolved into sublime Reality--shone out as much as the artificial
+light would permit,--a jewel of art that seemed to contain within
+itself all the colour and radiance of a heaven unknown, unseen yet
+surely near at hand. The figure and face of the approaching Saviour,
+instinct with life, expressed almost in positive speech the words,
+"Then shall ye see the Son of Man coming in the clouds with great power
+and glory"!--and if Cardinal Bonpre had given way to the innermost
+emotions of his soul, he could have knelt before the exalted purity of
+such a conception of the Christ,--a god-like ideal, brought into
+realization by the exalted imagination, the holy thoughts, and the
+faithful patient work of a mere woman!
+
+"This--" he said, in hushed accents--"This must be the cause of the
+dastardly attempt made to murder the child! Some one who knew her
+secret,--some one who was aware of the wonderful power and magnificence
+of her work,--perhaps the very man who made the frame for it,--who can
+tell?"
+
+Prince Pietro meditated deeply, a frown puckering his brows,--his
+countenance was still pale and drawn with the stress of the mingled
+agony and relief he had just passed through, and the anxiety he felt
+concerning Angela's immediate critical condition.
+
+"I cannot hold the position yet!--" he said, at last--"That is to say,
+I am too numb and stricken with fear to realize what has happened! See
+you! That picture is marvellous!--a wonder of the world!--it will crown
+my girl with all the laurels of a lasting fame,--but what matter is it
+to me,--this shouting of the public,--if she dies? Will it console me
+for her loss, to call her a Raffaelle?"
+
+"Nay, but we must not give up hope!"--said the Cardinal
+soothingly--"Please God, you will not lose her! Be glad that she is not
+dead,--and remember that it is almost by a miracle that she lives!"
+
+"That is true--that is true!" murmured old Sovrani, ruffling his white
+hair with one hand, while he still stared abstractedly at his
+daughter's picture--"You are very patient with me, brother!--you have
+all the kindness as well as all the faithfulness of your sister,--the
+sweetest woman the sun was ever privileged to shine on! Well, well!
+What did you say to me? That this picture must have been the cause of
+the attempted murder? Maybe,--but the poor hard-working fellow who made
+the frame for it, could not have done such a deed,--he has been a
+pensioner of Angela's for many a long day, and she has given him
+employment when he could not obtain it from others. Besides, he never
+saw the picture. Angela gave him her measurements, and when the frame
+was finished he brought it to her here. But he had nothing whatever to
+do with setting the canvas in it,--that I know, for Angela herself told
+me. No, no!--let us not blame the innocent; rather let us try to find
+the guilty."
+
+At that moment a servant entered with a large and exquisitely arranged
+basket of lilies-of-the-valley, and a letter.
+
+"For Donna Sovrani," he said, as he handed both to his master.
+
+The Prince took the basket of lilies, and moved by a sudden fancy, set
+it gently in front of Angela's great work. Glancing at the
+superscription of the letter, he said,--
+
+"From Varillo. I had better open it and see what he says."
+
+He broke the seal and read the following:
+
+"SWEETEST ANGELA,--I am summoned to Naples on business, and therefore,
+to my infinite regret, shall not be able to see the great picture
+to-morrow. You know,--you can feel how sorry I am to disappoint both
+you and myself in a pleasure which we have so long lovingly
+anticipated, but as the Queen has promised to make her visit of
+inspection, I dare not ask you to put off the exhibition of your work
+till my return. But I know I shall come back to find my Angela crowned
+with glory, and it will be reserved for me to add the last laurel leaf
+to the immortal wreath! I am grieved that I have no time to come and
+press my 'addio' on your sweet lips,--but in two or three days at most,
+I shall be again at your feet. Un bacio di
+
+FLORIAN."
+
+"Then he has left for Naples?" said Bonpre, to whom Prince Pietro had
+read this letter--"A sudden departure, is it not?"
+
+"Very sudden!"
+
+"He will not know what has happened to Angela--"
+
+"Oh he will be sure to hear that!" said the Prince--"To-night it will
+be in all the newspapers both of Rome and Naples. Angela's light cannot
+be hidden under a bushel!"
+
+"True. Then of course he will return at once."
+
+"Naturally. If he hears the news on his way, he will probably be back
+to-night--" said Sovrani, but his fuzzy brows were still puckered. Some
+uncomfortable thought seemed to trouble him,--and presently, as if
+moved by a sudden inexplicable instinct, he took the basket of lilies
+away from where he had set it in front of his daughter's picture, and
+transferred it to a side-table. Cardinal Bonpre, always observant,
+noticed his action.
+
+"You will not leave the flowers there?" he queried.
+
+"No. The picture is a sacred thing!--it is an almost living Christ!--in
+whom Varillo does not believe!"
+
+The Cardinal lifted his eyes protestingly.
+
+"Yet you let the child marry him?"
+
+Sovrani passed one hand wearily across his brows.
+
+"Let us not talk of marriage," he said--"Death is nearer to us to-day
+than life! I am opposed to the match--I always have been,--and who
+knows--who knows what may not yet prevent it--" He paused,
+thinking,--then turning a solicitous glance on his brother-in-law's
+frail figure he said--"Felix, you look weary,--let me attend you to
+your own rooms, that you may rest. We need you with us,--it may be that
+we shall need you more than we have ever done! Pray for us,
+brother!--Pray for my Angela, that she may be spared--"
+
+His harsh voice broke,--and tears trickled down his furrowed cheeks.
+
+"See you!" he said, pointing in a kind of despair to the magnificent
+"Coming of Christ"--"If Raffaelle or Angelo had dared to paint this in
+their day, the world would be taking a lesson from it now! If it were a
+modern man's work, that man would be a centre for hero-worship! But
+that a WOMAN should create such a masterpiece!--and that woman my
+Angela! Do you know what it means, Felix?--what Fame always means, what
+it always must mean--for a woman? Just what has already happened,--the
+murderous dagger-thrust--the coward stab in the back--and the little
+child's cry of the tender broken heart we heard just now--'Stay with
+me!--I am so tired!'"
+
+The Cardinal pressed his hand sympathetically, too profoundly moved
+himself to speak.
+
+"This picture will bring down the thunders of the Vatican!--" went on
+Sovrani--"And those thunders will awaken a responsive echo from the
+world! But not from the Old World--the New! The New World!--yes--my
+Angela's work is for the living present, the coming future--not for the
+decayed Past!"
+
+As he spoke, he dropped the silken curtain before the picture and hid
+it from view.
+
+"We will raise it again when the painter lives--or dies!" he said
+brokenly.
+
+They left the studio, Prince Pietro extinguishing the lights, and
+giving orders to his servant to put a strong bar across the door they
+had forced open,--and the Cardinal, feeling more lonely than he had
+done for many days, owing to the temporary absence of Manuel who was
+keeping watch over Angela, returned to his own apartments full of grave
+thoughts and anxious trouble. He had meant to leave Rome at once,--but
+now, such a course seemed more than impossible. Yet he knew that the
+scene which had, through himself indirectly, occurred at the Vatican,
+would have its speedy results in some decisive and vengeful action, if
+not on the part of the Supreme Pontiff, then through his ministers and
+advisers, and Bonpre was sufficiently acquainted with the secret ways
+of the Church he served, to be well aware of its relentlessness in all
+cases where its authority was called into question. The first step
+taken, so he instinctively felt, would be to deprive him of Manuel's
+companionship,--the next perhaps, to threaten him with the loss of his
+own diocese. He sighed heavily,--yet in his own tranquil and pious mind
+he could not say that he resented the position his affairs had taken.
+Accustomed as he was always, to submit the whole daily course of his
+life to the ruling of a Higher Power, he was framed and braced as
+temperately for adversity as for joy,--and nothing seemed to him either
+fortunate or disastrous except as concerned the attitude in which the
+soul received the announcement of God's will. To resent affliction was,
+in his opinion, sinful; to accept it reverently and humbly as a means
+of grace, and endeavour to make sweetness out of the seeming bitterness
+of the divine dispensation, appeared to him the only right and natural
+way of duty,--hence his clear simplicity of thought, his patience,
+plain faith, and purity of aim. And even now, perplexed and pained as
+he was, much more for the sorrow which had befallen his brother-in-law,
+than for any trouble likely to occur personally to himself, he was
+still able to disentangle his thoughts from all earthly cares--to lift
+up his heart, unsullied by complaint, to the Ruler of all
+destinies--and to resign himself with that Christian philosophy, which
+when truly practised, is so much more powerful than all the splendid
+stoicism of the heroic pagans, to those
+
+ "Glorious God-influences,
+ Which we, unseeing, feel and grope for blindly,
+ Like children in the dark, knowing that Love is near!"
+
+Meanwhile Prince Pietro, moved by conflicting sentiments and
+forebodings which he was unable to explain to himself, and only
+strongly conscious of the desire to be avenged on his daughter's
+cowardly assailant, whoever it might be, muffled himself in a well-worn
+"Almaviva" cloak, his favourite out-door garment, pulled his hat down
+over his eyes, and so, looking like a fierce old brigand of the
+mountains, went out, not quite knowing why he went, but partly impelled
+by a sense of curiosity. He wanted to hear something,--to find
+something,--and yet he could not agree with himself as to the nature of
+the circumstance he sought to discover. There was a lurking suspicion
+in his mind to which he would not give a name,--a dark thought that
+made him tremble with mingled rage and horror,--but he put it away from
+him as a hint offered by the Evil One--an insidious suggestion as
+hideous as it was unnatural. The afternoon had now closed into night,
+and many stars were glistening bravely in the purple depths of the
+clear sky,--the air was mild and balmy,--and as he crossed the road to
+turn down the little side street leading to the Tiber, where Florian
+Varillo had stood but a few hours previously, a flower-girl met him
+with a large basket of white hyacinths and held them up to his eyes.
+
+"Ecco la primavera, Signor!" she said, with a smile.
+
+He shook his head, and turned abruptly away,--as he did so, his foot
+struck against some slight obstacle. Stooping to examine it, he saw it
+was the empty leathern sheath of a dagger. He picked it up, and studied
+it intently. It was elaborately adorned with old rococco work, and was
+evidently the ornamental covering of one of those small but deadly
+weapons which Italians, both men and women, so often wear concealed
+about their persons, for the purpose of taking vengeance, when deemed
+necessary, on an unsuspecting enemy. Slipping the thing into his
+pocket, the Prince looked about him, and soon recognised his
+bearings,--he was standing about six yards away from the private
+back-entrance to his daughter's studio. He walked up to the door and
+tried it,--it was fast locked.
+
+"Yes--I remember!--the servants told me--both doors were locked,--and
+from this they said the key was gone,--" he muttered, then paused.
+
+Presently, actuated by a sudden impulse, he turned and walked swiftly
+with long impatient strides through the more populated quarters of Rome
+towards the Corso, and he had not proceeded very far in this direction
+before he heard a frenzied and discordant shouting which, though he
+knew it did not yet bear the truth in its harsh refrain, yet staggered
+him and made his heart almost stand still with an agony of premonitory
+fear.
+
+ "Morte di Angela Sovrani!"
+ "Assassinamento di Angela Sovrani!"
+ "Morte subito di Angela Sovrani!"
+ "Assassinamento crudele della bella Sovrani!"
+
+Prince Pietro held his breath in sharp pain, listening. How horrible
+was the persistent cry of the newsvendors!--hoarse and shrill--now
+near--now far!--
+
+ "Morte di Angela Sovrani!"
+
+How horrible!--how horrible! He put his hands to his ears to try and
+shut out the din. He had not expected any public outcry--not so
+soon--but ill news travels fast, and no doubt the very servants of his
+own household were responsible for having, in the extremity of their
+terror, given away the report of Angela's death. The terrible shouts
+were like so many cruel blows on his brain,--yet--half-reeling with the
+shock of them, he still went on his way,--straight on to the house and
+studio of Florian Varillo. There, he rang the bell loudly and
+impatiently. A servant opened the door in haste, and stared aghast at
+the tall old man with the white hair and blazing eyes, who was wrapped
+in a dark cloak, the very folds of which seemed to tremble with the
+suppressed rage of the form it enveloped.
+
+"Il Principe Souvrani!" he stammered feebly, falling back a little from
+the threshold.
+
+"Where is your master?" demanded Sovrani.
+
+"Eccellenza, he has gone to Naples!"
+
+"When did he leave?"
+
+"But two hours ago, Eccellenza!"
+
+Prince Pietro held up the dagger-sheath he had just found.
+
+"This--belongs--to--him--does it not?" he asked slowly, detaching his
+words with careful directness.
+
+The man answered readily and at once.
+
+"Yes, Eccellenza!"
+
+Sovrani uttered a terrible oath.
+
+"Let me pass!"
+
+The servant made a gesture of protest.
+
+"But--Eccellenza--my master is not here! . . ."
+
+Prince Pietro paying no heed to him, strode into the house, and
+brusquely threw open the door of a room which he knew to be Varillo's
+own specially private retreat. A woman with a mass of bright
+orange-gold hair, half-dressed in a tawdry blue peignoir trimmed with
+cheap lace, was sprawling lazily on a sofa smoking a cigarette. She
+sprang up surprised and indignant,--but shrank back visibly as she
+recognised the intruder, and met the steady tigerish glare of the old
+man's eyes.
+
+"Where is your lover?" he asked.
+
+"Eccellensa! You amaze--you insult me--!"
+
+"Basta!" and Sovrani came a step nearer to her, his wrath seeming to
+literally encompass him like a thunder-cloud--"Play me no tricks! This
+is not the time for lying! I repeat my question--where is he? You, the
+companion of his closest thoughts,--you, his 'model'--you, Mademoiselle
+Pon-Pon, his mistress--you must know all his movements. Tell me then,
+where he is--or by heaven, if you do not, I will have you arrested for
+complicity in murder!"
+
+She fell back from him trembling, her full red mouth half open,--and
+her face paling with terror.
+
+"Murder!" she whispered--"Dio mio! Dio mio!"
+
+"Yes--murder!" and the Prince thrust before her wide-opened eyes the
+dagger-sheath he held--"What! Have you not heard? Not yet? Not though
+the whole city rings with the news? What news? That Angela Sovrani is
+dead! That she--my daughter--the sweetest, purest, most innocent and
+loving of women as well as the greatest and most gifted--has been
+mortally stabbed in her own studio this very day by some cowardly fiend
+unknown! Unknown did I say? Not so--known! This sheath belongs to
+Florian Varillo. Where is he? Tell me at once--if only to save YOURSELF
+trouble!"
+
+Overcome by fear, and to do her justice, horror as well, the miserable
+Pon-Pon threw herself on her knees.
+
+"I swear he has gone to Naples!" she cried--"On my word!--as I live!--I
+swear it!--he has gone! He seemed as usual,--he was not in any
+haste--he left no message--he said he would be back in two or three
+days--he sent flowers to la Donna Sovrani--he wrote to her
+ . . . O Santissima Virgine! . . . I swear to you I know nothing!"
+
+The Prince eyed her with grim attention.
+
+"They are shouting it in the streets--" he said--"Listen!" He held up
+one hand,--she cowered on the floor--she could hear nothing, and she
+stared at him in fascinated terror--"They are telling all Rome of the
+death of my child! First Rome--and then--the world! The world shall
+hear of it! For there is only one Angela Sovrani,--and earth and heaven
+cry out for justice in her name! Tell this to the devil who has bought
+you for his pleasure! I leave the message with you,--tell him that when
+the world clamours for vengeance upon her murderer, I KNOW WHERE TO
+FIND HIM!"
+
+With that, he put the dagger-sheath back in his breastpocket with
+jealous care, and left her where she crouched, shivering and moaning.
+Walking as in a dream he brushed past the astonished and frightened
+servant unseeingly, and went out of the house into the street once
+more. There he paused dizzily,--the stars appeared to rock in the sky,
+and the houses seemed moving slowly round him in a sort of circular
+procession. The shouting of the newsvendors which had ceased for a
+while, began again with even louder persistency.
+
+"Morte di Angela Sovrani!"
+
+"La bella Sovrani!--Assassinamento crudele!"
+
+The old man's heart beat in strong hammer-strokes,--he listened
+vaguely,--his tall figure shaking a little with the storm pent-up
+within him, till all at once as if the full realization of the position
+had only just burst upon him, he uttered a sharp cry--
+
+"Her lover! Her promised husband! One whom she trusted and loved more
+than her own father! The hope of her life!--the man whose praise was
+sweeter to her than the plaudits of the whole world!--he--even he--her
+MURDERER! For even if she lives in body, he has murdered her soul!"
+
+He looked up at the deep starlit heavens, his dark face growing livid
+in the intensity of his wrath and pain.
+
+"May God curse him!" he whispered thickly--"May all evil track his
+footsteps, and the terrors of a cursed conscience hound him to his
+death! May he never know peace by day or night!--may the devils in his
+own soul destroy him! God curse him!"
+
+He clenched his fist and raised it threateningly,--and gathering his
+cloak about him tried to walk on,--but there was a black mist before
+his eyes . . . he could not see--he stumbled forward blindly, and would
+have fallen, had not a strong arm caught him and held him upright. He
+turned a dazed and wondering look on the man whose friendly grasp
+supported him,--then, with an exclamation, made a trembling attempt to
+raise his hat.
+
+"Il Re!" he murmured feebly--"Il Re!"
+
+King Humbert--for it was he--held him still more closely.
+
+"Courage, amico!" he said kindly--"Courage!--yes--yes!--I know--I have
+heard the news! All Italy will give you vengeance for your child! We
+will spare no pains to discover her murderer. But now--you are ill--you
+are weary--do not try to speak--come with me! Let me take you
+home--come!"
+
+A great sob broke from the old man's breast as he yielded to his
+Sovereign's imperative yet gentle guidance, and before he could realize
+the situation, he was in the King's own carriage, with the King beside
+him, being rapidly driven back to his own house. Arrived at the Palazzo
+Sovrani, a strange sight greeted them. The great porte-cochere was wide
+open, and, pressing through it, and surrounding the stately building at
+every point was a vast crowd,--densely packed and almost absolutely
+silent. Quite up to the inner portico these waiting thousands
+pressed,--though, as they recognised the Royal liveries, they did their
+best to make immediate way, and a low murmur arose "Evviva il Re!" But
+there was no loud shouting, and the continued hush was more distinctly
+recognisable than the murmur. Prince Sovrani gazed bewilderedly at the
+great throng as the carriage moved slowly through, and putting his hand
+to his head murmured--
+
+"What--what is this! I do not understand--why are these people here?"
+
+The King pressed his hand.
+
+"All the world honours and loves your daughter, my friend!" he said,
+"And Rome, the Mother of Nations, mourns the loss of her youngest child
+of genius."
+
+"No--no, not loss!--she is not dead--" began Sovrani stammeringly,--"I
+should have told your Majesty--she is grievously wounded--but not dead
+. . ."
+
+At that moment the carriage stopped. The door of the Sovrani palace was
+open, and in the centre of a group of people that had gathered within,
+among whom were Aubrey Leigh, Sylvie Hermenstein, and the Princesse
+D'Agramont, stood Cardinal Bonpre and Manuel. Manuel was a little in
+advance of the rest, and as the King and Prince Sovrani alighted, he
+came fully forward, his eyes shining, and a smile upon his lips.
+
+"She will recover!" he said, "She is sleeping peacefully,--and all is
+well!" His voice rang clear and sweet, and was heard by everyone on the
+outskirts of the crowd. The good news ran from mouth to mouth, till all
+the people caught it up and responded with one brief, subdued, but
+hearty cheer. Then, without bidding, they began to disperse, and the
+King, baring his head in the presence of Cardinal Bonpre, gave up his
+self-imposed charge of old Sovrani, who, faint and feeble, grasped
+Aubrey Leigh's quickly proffered arm, and leaned heavily upon it.
+
+"He needs care," said Humbert gently,--"The shock has moved him
+greatly!"
+
+"Your Majesty is ever considerate of the sorrows of others," said the
+venerable Felix with emotion, "And God will bless you as He blesses all
+good men!"
+
+The King bowed reverently to the benediction. Then he looked up with a
+slight smile.
+
+"It is not wise of your Eminence to say so,--in Rome!" he
+observed,--"But I thank you, and am grateful!"
+
+His keen eyes rested for a moment on Manuel,--and the fair aspect of
+the boy seemed to move him to a sense of wonder--but he did not speak.
+With a light salute to all present he re-entered his carriage and was
+driven away--and Aubrey Leigh led Prince Sovrani into his own library
+where, when he was seated, they all waited upon him eagerly, the fair
+Sylvie chafing his cold hands, and the Princesse D'Agramont practically
+making him drink a glass of good wine. Gradually, warmth and colour and
+animation came back to his pale features,--his fears were soothed,--his
+heart relieved, and a smile crossed his lips as he met Sylvie's
+earnest, anxious eyes.
+
+"What a pretty rosebud it is!" he said softly,--"Full of sunshine--and
+love!"
+
+With returning strength he gathered up the forces of his native pride
+and independence and rose from his chair.
+
+"I am well--quite well again now!" he said, "Where is the boy, Manuel?"
+
+"Gone back to Angela," replied the Cardinal, "He said he would watch
+her until she wakes."
+
+"An angel watching an angel!" then said the Prince musingly, "That is
+as it should be!" He paused a moment, "The King was very kind. And you,
+Princesse--and you, bella Contessina!" and he courteously bent over
+Sylvie's little hand and kissed it,--"You are all much too good to an
+old man like me! I am strong again--I shall be ready to speak--when
+Angela bids. But I must wait. I must wait!" He ruffled his white hair
+with one hand and looked at them all very strangely. "That was a great
+crowd outside--all waiting to hear news of my girl! If--if they knew
+who it was that stabbed her--"
+
+"Do you know?" cried Aubrey quickly.
+
+"Per Dio!" And Sovrani smiled, "I thought Englishmen were phlegmatic,
+and here is one ablaze, and ready to burst like a bomb! No!--I did not
+say I knew!--but I say, if the crowd had known, they would have lynched
+him! Yes, they would have torn him to pieces!
+ . . . and he would have deserved it! He will deserve it!--If he is ever
+found! Come--we will all sup here together this evening--sorrow
+strengthens the bonds of friendship . . . and I will tell you . . ."
+
+He paused, and again the strange far-off look came into his eyes.
+
+"I will tell you--" he went on slowly--"how I found my Angela lying
+dead, as I thought--dead at the feet of Christ!"
+
+
+
+
+XXXI.
+
+Meanwhile Florian Varillo had not gone to Naples. He had been turned
+back by a spectre evoked from his own conscience--coward fear. He was
+on his way to the station when he suddenly discovered that he had lost
+the sheath of his dagger. A cold perspiration broke out on his forehead
+as this fact flashed upon him. What had he done with it? Surely he had
+drawn the weapon out and left the sheath in his breast pocket as
+usual--but no!--search as he would, he could not find it. It must have
+dropped on the floor of Angela's studio! If that were so, he would be
+traced!--most surely traced--as the sheath was of curious and uncommon
+workmanship, and many of his friends had seen it. He had told everybody
+he was going to Naples, and of course he would be followed there. Then,
+he would not go! But he went to the station as if bent on the journey,
+and took a ticket for Naples. Then, setting down his portmanteau on a
+bench, he surreptitiously tore off the label on which his name was
+written, and tearing it up in small bits scattered the fragments on the
+line. After this, he walked away leisurely, leaving the portmanteau
+behind him for there was nothing in it by which he could be traced, and
+sauntered slowly out of the station into the streets of Rome once more.
+Hailing the first fiacre he saw, he told the driver to take him to
+Frascati. The man was either lazy or sulky.
+
+"Why not take the train, Signor?"
+
+"Because I wish to drive!" replied Varillo. "What is your fare?"
+
+"Twenty-five francs for half the way!" said the man, showing his white
+teeth in a mischievous grin.
+
+"Good!"
+
+The driver was surprised, as he had not thought his terms would be
+accepted. But he made no further demur, and Varillo jumped into the
+vehicle, his teeth chattering with an inward terror he could not
+control. "Drive quickly!" he said.
+
+The man shouted an affirmative, and they clattered away through the
+streets, Varillo shrinking back in the carriage overcome by panic. What
+a fool he had been!--what a fool! He ought to have told Pon-Pon. If the
+dagger-sheath were found and taken to his residence, it would be
+recognised instantly! And all Rome would rise against Angela Sovrani's
+murderer. Murderer! Yes,--that was what he had chosen to make of
+himself!
+
+"It was all an impulse," he muttered,--"Just a hot impulse, nothing
+more! Just a sudden hatred of her which made me stab her! It was enough
+to make any man angry to see such a picture as that painted by a woman!
+Her fame would have ruined mine! But I never meant to kill her--no--no,
+I never meant to kill her!"
+
+Shuddering and whimpering, he huddled himself in a corner of the
+carriage, and did not dare to look out of the window to see which way
+he was being driven. He only rallied a little when the wheels moved
+more quietly and smoothly, and he knew that he was on the open road,
+and out of Rome. Suddenly, after jolting along a considerable time, the
+vehicle stopped, and the driver shouted to him. Varillo dashed down the
+window and put his head out, almost beside himself with rage.
+
+"What are you stopping for! What are you stopping for!" he yelled. "Go
+on--go on--we are not half way to Frascati yet! Go on, I tell you!"
+
+"Ma-che! Eccellenza, I only stopped to ask a question!"
+
+"What question--what? Is this a time for asking questions?" cried
+Varillo,--"The night is falling,--I want to get on!"
+
+"But we are going on as fast as we can!" expostulated the driver,--"It
+is only this--there is an albergo on the way--where we can get food and
+wine. Would the Eccellenza like to stop there? It is as far as I can
+go, for I am wanted to-night in Rome."
+
+"Very well--stop where you like--only get on now!" said Varillo,
+pulling his head in with a jerk. And sinking back in his seat again he
+wiped his hot face and cursed his miserable destiny. It would have been
+all right if he had only remembered that sheath! No one would have got
+on such a track of suspicion as that he, the lover and affianced
+husband of Angela, was her brutal assassin!
+
+"I wrote a loving letter and sent her flowers," he argued with himself,
+"when I knew she would be dead! But her father would have got them, and
+he would have wired to me in Naples, and I should have come back
+overcome with sorrow,--and then I should have told them all how the
+picture was a secret between my Angela and myself,--how _I_ had painted
+the greater part of it, and how she in her sweetness had wished me to
+surprise the world,--the plan was perfect, but it is all
+spoiled!--spoiled utterly through that stupid blunder of the sheath!"
+
+Such a trifle! It seemed to him incredible--unjust--that so slight a
+thing could intervene between him and the complete success of his
+meditated treachery. For notwithstanding the fact that he had been a
+great reader and student of books, he now, in this particular hour of
+his own emergency, completely forgot what all the most astute and
+learned writers have always expounded to an inattentive world--namely,
+the fact that crime holds within itself the seed of punishment.
+Sometimes that seed ripens quickly,--sometimes it takes years to
+grow,--but it is always there. And it generally takes root in a mere,
+slight circumstance, so very commonplace and casual as to entirely
+escape the notice of the criminal, till the network of destiny is woven
+so closely about him that he can no longer avoid it,--and then he is
+shown from what a trifling cause the whole result has sprung. Varillo's
+present state of mind was one of absolute torture, for he felt that
+whoever found the sheath of his dagger would at once recognise it and
+declare the owner. If Angela had only been wounded,--if SHE had found
+it--she would never have given up the name of its possessor,--the
+miserable man knew her straight, pure soul intimately enough for that!
+
+"If she heard, she would shield me and defend me at the cost of her own
+life!" he said--"She was always like that! SHE would never listen to
+anything that was said against me,--and if she lived, she would love me
+still, and never say that I had tried to kill her!" and he actually
+smiled at the thought. "How strangely some women are
+constituted!--especially women like Angela, who set up an exalted
+standard of life, and accommodate their daily conduct to it! They are
+sublime fools!--and so useful to men! We can do anything we like with
+them. We can ruin them--and they bear their shame in silence. We can
+laugh away their reputations over a game at billiards, and they are too
+pure and proud to even attempt to defend themselves. We can vilify
+whatever work they do, and they endure the slander,--we can murder
+them--" he paused," Yes, we can murder them, and they die, without so
+much as leaving a curse behind them!
+Extraordinary!--angelic--superb!--and a wise Fate has ordained that we
+men shall never sacrifice ourselves for SUCH women, or go mad for the
+love of them! We love the virago better than the saint; we are afraid
+of the woman who nags at us and gives us trouble--who screams vengeance
+upon us if we neglect her in a trifle--who clamours for our money, and
+insists on our gifts--and who keeps our lives in a perpetual fever of
+excitement and terror. But the innocent woman we hate--very naturally!
+Her looks are a reproach to us, and we like to kill her when we
+can--and we often succeed morally,--but THAT is not called murder. The
+other way of killing is judged as a crime--and--then--the punishment is
+death!"
+
+As this word passed his lips in a whisper, he trembled violently.
+Death! It had a chill sound--yet he had not thought so when he
+associated it with Angela. For of course Angela was dead. Was she not?
+Surely she must be--he had driven the dagger straight home!
+
+"She could not possibly live," he muttered--"Not after such a well
+directed blow. And that amazing picture! If I could but claim it as my
+work, I should be the greatest artist in the world! It would be quite
+easy to make out a proof--only that cursed dagger-sheath is in the way!"
+
+He was startled out of his reverie by another stoppage of the carriage,
+and this time the driver jumped down from his box and came to the door.
+
+"This is as far as I can take you, Signor," he said, looking curiously
+at his passenger,--"It is quite half way to Frascati. There is the inn
+I told you of--where those lights are," and he pointed towards the
+left,--"The carriage road does not go up to it. It is a great place for
+artists!"
+
+"I am not an artist!" said Varillo brusquely.
+
+"No? But artists are merry company, Eccellenza!--" suggested the
+driver, wishing to make up for his previous sulkiness by an excess of
+amiability--"And for a night, the albergo is a pleasant resting place
+on the way to Frascati, for even the brigands who sup there are
+good-natured!"
+
+"Ah! There are brigands, are there?" said Varillo, getting out of the
+fiacre and beginning to recover something of his usual composure,--"And
+I daresay you are one of them if the truth were known! Here is your
+money." And he gave the man two gold pieces, one of twenty francs, the
+other of ten.
+
+"Eccellenza, I have no change--"
+
+"I want none!" said Varillo airily,--"You asked twenty-five
+francs--there are thirty. And now--as you say you have business in
+Rome, be off with you!"
+
+The man needed no second bidding; delighted with his thirty francs, he
+called a gay "Buona notte, Signor!" and turning his horse's head jogged
+down the road at a tolerably smart pace. The horse knew as well as the
+driver, that the way now lay homeward, and lost no time. Varillo, left
+to himself, paused a moment and looked about him. The Campagna! How he
+hated it! Should he pass the night at that albergo, or walk on? He
+hesitated a little--then made for the inn direct. It was a bright, cosy
+little place enough, and the padrona, a cheery, dark-eyed woman seated
+behind the counter, bade him smiling welcome.
+
+Lodging--oh yes! she said, there was a charming room at the Signor's
+disposal, with a view from the windows which in the early morning was
+superb! The Signor was an artist?
+
+"No!" said Varillo, almost fiercely--"I am a tourist--travelling for
+pleasure!"
+
+Ah! Then the view would enchant the Signor, because it would be quite
+new to him! The room should be prepared at once! Would the Signor take
+supper?
+
+Yes,--the Signor would take supper. And the Signor went and sat in a
+remote corner of the common-room, with a newspaper of a week old,
+pretending to read its contents. And supper was soon served to him,--a
+tasty meal enough, flavoured with excellent wine,--and while he was
+drinking his third glass of it, a man entered, tall and
+broad-shouldered, wrapped in a heavy cloak, which he only partially
+loosened as he leaned against the counter and asked for a cup of
+coffee. But as he caught sight of the dark face, Varillo shrank back
+into his corner, and put up his newspaper to shield himself from
+view,--for he saw that the new-comer was no other than Monsignor
+Gherardi. His appearance seemed to create a certain amount of
+excitement and vague alarm in the little inn; the padrona evidently
+knew him well, and hastened to serve him herself with the coffee he
+asked for.
+
+"Will you not sit down, Eccellentissima?" she murmured deferentially.
+
+"No, I am in haste!" replied Gherardi, glancing carelessly about
+him--"My carriage waits outside. There is strange news in Rome
+to-night! The famous artist, Angela Sovrani, has been found in her
+studio, murdered!"
+
+The padrona uttered a little cry.
+
+"Murdered!"
+
+"So it seems! Here are the papers from which they cry the news. I will
+leave them with you. It is perhaps the judgment of Heaven on the
+Sovrani's uncle, Cardinal Bonpre!"
+
+The mistress of the inn crossed herself devoutly.
+
+"Guiosto cielo!--Would Heaven punish a Cardinal?"
+
+"Certainly! If a Cardinal is a heretic!"
+
+The stout padrona clasped her hands and shuddered.
+
+"Not possible!"
+
+"Quite possible!" And Gherardi drained his coffee-cup. "And when so
+great a personage of the Church is a renegade, he incurs two
+punishments--the punishment of God and the punishment of the Church!
+The one comes first--the other comes--afterwards! Buena notte!"
+
+And throwing down the money for his refreshment, Gherardi cast another
+glance around him, muffled himself up in his coat and went out into the
+night. Florian Varillo breathed again. But he was not left in peace for
+long. The padrona summoned her husband from the kitchen where he
+performed the offices of cook, to read the halfpenny sheets of news her
+visitor had left with her.
+
+"Look you!" she said in a low voice, "The wicked Monsignor who has
+thee, my poor Paolo, in his clutches for debt, has just passed by and
+left evil tidings!--that beautiful girl who painted the famous pictures
+in Rome, has been murdered! Do you not remember seeing her once with
+her father at Frascati?"
+
+Paolo, a round-faced, timid-looking little Piedmontese, nodded
+emphatically.
+
+"That do I!" he answered--"Fair as an angel--kind-hearted too,--and
+they told me she was a wonder of the world. Che, che! Murdered! And who
+could have murdered her? Someone jealous of her fame! Poor thing--she
+is engaged to be married too, to another artist named Florian Varillo.
+Gran Dio! He will die of this misery!" And they bent their heads over
+the paper together and read the brief announcement headed
+"Assassinamento di Angela Sovrani!"
+
+A sudden crash startled them. Varillo had sprung up from his table in
+haste and overset his glass. It fell, shivering to atoms on the floor.
+
+"Pardon!" he exclaimed, laughing forcedly,--"A thousand apologies! My
+hand slipped--it was an accident--"
+
+"Do not trouble yourself, Signor," said the landlord, Paolo, cautiously
+going down on his fat knees to pick up the fragments--"It was an
+accident as you say. And truly one's nerves get shaken nowadays by all
+the strange things one is always hearing! Myself, I tremble to think of
+the murder of the Sovrani--the poor girl was so innocent of evil--and
+see you!--we might all be murdered in our beds with such villains about
+. . ."
+
+He broke off, surprised at the angry oath Varillo uttered.
+
+"Per Dio! Can you not talk of something else?" he said
+hoarsely,--"There is a murder nearly every day in Rome!"
+
+Without waiting for a reply he hastily strode out of the inn, banging
+the door behind him. He had engaged his room there for the
+night--true!--but--after all this foolish gabble he resolved he would
+not go back. They would still talk of murder, if he did! Murder was in
+the air! Murder seemed written in letters of fire against the clear sky
+now luminous with the moon and stars! He was in a fever and a fury--he
+walked on and on, little heeding where he went. What the devil had
+brought Gherardi to that particular inn at that particular time of
+night? He could not imagine. For though he knew most scandals in Rome,
+the scandal of the priest's "villa d'amour" at Frascati, was a secret
+too closely guarded for anyone save the sharpest of professional
+detectives to discover, and he was totally ignorant of it. He wondered
+restlessly whether the crafty Vatican spy had seen him while pretending
+not to see? If that were so, then he was lost! He could not satisfy
+himself as to whether he had really escaped observation, and tormented
+by this reflection he walked on and on, the burning impetus of his
+thoughts hastening his footsteps. A cold wind began to rise,--a chill,
+damp breath of the Campagna, bringing malaria with it. He felt heated
+and giddy, and there was a curious sense of fulness in his veins which
+oppressed him and made him uncertain of his movements. Presently he
+stopped, and stood gazing vaguely from left to right. He was surely not
+on the road to Frascati? There was a tall shadowy building not far from
+him, surrounded with eucalyptus trees--he tried to locate it, but
+somehow though, as a native of Rome and an artist, he was familiar with
+most of the Campagna, he did not recognise this part of it. How bright
+the stars were! Living points of fire flashing in dense purple!--one
+could never paint them! The golden round of the moon spreading wide
+reflections on the road, seemed to his excited mind like a magic ring
+environing him, drawing him in, pointing him out as the one criminal
+for whom all the world was seeking. He had no idea of the time,--his
+watch had stopped. He began to count up hours. He remembered that when
+he had gone to see Angela, it was about four o'clock. He had known
+perfectly well that she was alone, for he had seen the Cardinal drive
+past him in the streets on the way to the Vatican, and he had heard at
+his "Cercolo" or club, that Prince Sovrani had gone out of Rome for a
+few hours. And, thus informed, he had timed his visit to Angela well.
+Then, had he meant to kill her? No. He was quite certain that he never
+had had any such intention. Then what had been his purpose? First, to
+see her picture, and then to condemn it. Not harshly, but gently--with
+the chill toleration and faint commiseration of the critic who pretends
+to judge everything. He knew--none better--the glowing ardour and
+enthusiasm of the genius which was as much a part of Angela as colour
+is part of a rose,--his intention had been to freeze all that warmth
+with a few apparently kind words. For he had never thought it possible
+that she,--a mere woman,--could evolve from her own brain and hand,
+such a poetic, spiritual and magnificent conception as "The Coming of
+Christ." And when he saw what she had done, he bitterly envied her her
+power,--he realized the weakness of his own efforts as compared with
+her victorious achievement, and he hated her accordingly, as all men
+hate the woman who is intellectually superior to themselves. After all,
+there was no way out of it, but the way he had chosen,--to kill her and
+make an end! To kill her and make an end! He muttered these words over
+and over to himself, as he stood irresolutely watching the broad
+patterns of the moonlight, and thinking confusedly about the time.
+Yes,--it was four o'clock when he went to Angela's studio,--it must
+have been five, or past that hour when he left it,--when he slunk down
+the side-street which led to the river, and threw the key and his
+dagger together into the muddy tide. After that he had gone home,--and
+had superintended his valet, while that individual packed his
+portmanteau for Naples--and then--and then? Yes,--then he had written
+to Angela,--one of the pretty gracious little notes she was accustomed
+to receive from him,--how strange it was to write to a dead girl!--and
+he had gone out to the nearest florist's shop, and chosen a basket of
+lilies to send to her,--lilies were for dead maidens always,--and he
+had sent the flowers and his love letter together. Then surely it must
+have been about half-past six? He tried to fix the hour, but could not,
+and again his thoughts went rambling on. After sending the lilies, he
+had returned to his own house, and Pon-Pon had prepared a "petit cafe"
+for him, and he had partaken of it, and had smoked a couple of
+cigarettes with her, and then had said a leisurely good-bye, and had
+started for the railway-station en route for Naples. What train had he
+intended to go by? The eight o'clock express. He remembered that. But
+on the way, he had discovered that loss of the dagger-sheath,--an
+unforeseen fatality that had turned him back, and brought him to where
+he now stood meditating. How long did the driver of that fiacre he
+hired, take to bring him to the wayside inn on the road to Frascati?
+This he could not determine,--but to his uncertain memory it seemed to
+have been an unusually tedious and tiresome journey. And now--here he
+was--with no habitation in sight save the solitary building whose walls
+loomed darkly through the eucalyptus trees. He went towards it after a
+while, walking slowly and almost mechanically;--he was extremely tired,
+and an oppressive sense of heat and weariness combined made him anxious
+to obtain a night's lodging somewhere,--no matter in what sort of
+place. Anything would be better than sleeping out on the Campagna, an
+easy prey to the worst form of fever. As he approached more nearly to
+the house among the trees, he saw that it was surrounded by a very
+high, closely intertwisted iron railing,--and when he came within a few
+paces of what appeared to be the entrance, he was startled by the
+sudden heavy clang of a bell, which, striking through the still air,
+created such harsh clamour that he instinctively shivered at the sound.
+He paused,--and again the dismal boom crashed on his ears,--then as its
+echo died away another deep monotone, steadily persistent, began to
+stir the silence with words,--words, which to Florian Varillo in his
+nervous excitation of mind sounded hellish and horrible.
+
+ "Libera me Domine, de morte aeterna!"
+ "In die ilia tremenda!"
+ "Quando coeli movendi suntet terra!"
+ "Dum veneris judicare saeculum per ignem!"
+
+He listened, and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. With that
+strange weakness and effeminacy which often distinguishes the artistic,
+and particularly the Italian artistic temperament, he was excessively
+superstitious, and this unexpected chanting of a psalm of death seemed
+to him at the moment, of supernatural and predetermined origin, devised
+on purpose to intensify the growing terrors of his coward conscience.
+
+ "Tremens factus sum ego!"
+ "Et timeo, dum discussio venerit, atque venerit ira!"
+
+Once more the great bell tolled heavily, and its discordant tone seemed
+to tear his brain. He uttered an involuntary cry,--every weak impulse
+in his soul was aroused,--and in the excess of a miserable self-pity he
+longed to excuse himself for his crime of treachery and cruelty to the
+innocent woman who loved him,--to throw the blame on someone else,--if
+he could only find that someone else! Anything rather than own himself
+to be the mean wretch and traitor that he was. For he was a cultured
+and clever man,--a scholar,--an artist,--a poet;--these things were not
+consistent with murder! A man who painted beautiful pictures,--a man
+who wrote exquisite verses,--he could never be suspected of stabbing a
+helpless trusting woman in the back out of sheer jealousy, like a
+common hired assassin! No no! He could never be suspected! Why had he
+not thought of his intellectual gifts,--his position in the world of
+art, before? No one in their senses could possibly accuse him in the
+way he had imagined!--and even if the dagger-sheath were found, some
+explanation might be given,--someone else might be found guilty . . .
+
+ "Quando coeli movendi sunt et terra;
+ Dum veneris judicare saeculum per ignem!"
+
+Again that horrible bell! Moved by a sudden desperate determination to
+find out what this mysterious chanting was, and where it came from, he
+braced himself up and walked resolutely and quickly on to a great
+gateway, cross-barred and surmounted with tall spikes,--and there
+seized by fresh panic, he clung to the grating for support and stared
+through it affrightedly, his teeth chattering and his whole frame
+shaking as with an ague fit. What were those dark terrible figures he
+saw? Were they phantoms or men? Gaunt and black and tall, they swayed
+to and fro, now bending, now rising, in the misty splendour of the
+moonlight,--they were busy with the ground, digging it and casting out
+shovels full of earth in heaps beside them. Each ghostly figure stood
+by itself apart from its companions,--each one worked at its task
+alone,--and only their voices mingled in harsh dismal unison as, with
+the next stroke of the solemn bell, they chanted
+
+ "Dies ilia dies irae,
+ Calamitatis et miseriae!"
+
+"No!" shrieked Varillo suddenly, shaking the gateway like an infuriated
+madman--"What are you doing in there? Who told you to sing my mass or
+prepare my grave? I am not ready, I tell you! Not ready! I have done
+nothing to deserve death--nothing!--I have not been tried!--you must
+wait--you must wait till you know all--you must wait! . . ."
+
+His voice choked in utterance, and thrusting one hand through the
+grating he made frantic gesticulations to the spectral figure nearest
+him. It paused in its toil and lifted its head,--and from the dark
+folds of a drooping cowl, two melancholy deep-set eyes glittered out
+like the eyes of a famished beast. The other spectres paused also, but
+only for a moment,--the bell boomed menacingly over their heads once
+more, and again they dug and delved, and again they chanted in dreary
+monotone--
+
+ "Dies magna et amara valde,
+ Dum veneris judicare!
+ Libera nos Domine, de morte aeterna, in die illa tremenda!"
+
+Wild with terror Varillo shook the gate more furiously than before.
+
+"Stop I tell you!" he cried--"It is too soon! You are burying me before
+my time. You have no proof against me--none! I am young,--full of life
+and strength--the world loves me--wants me!--and I--I will not die!--no
+I will not!--not yet! Not yet--I am not ready! Stop--stop! You do not
+know what you are doing--stop! You are driving me mad with your
+horrible singing!" And he shrieked aloud. "Mad, I tell you!--mad!"
+
+For one hazy moment he saw some of the dark figures begin to move
+towards him--he clutched at them--fought with them--tore at their
+garments,--he would have killed them all, he thought, if the moonlight
+had not come in between him and them, and shut him up in a cold silver
+circle of ice from which he could not escape,--yet he went on
+struggling and talking and shrieking, contending sometimes, as he
+fancied, with swords and daggers, and trying to find his way through
+strange storms of mingled fire and snow--till all at once some strong
+invisible force swooped down upon him, lifted him up and carried him
+away--and he remembered no more.
+
+
+
+
+XXXII.
+
+Away in Paris, a vast concourse of people were assembled round an open
+grave in Pere-la-Chaise, wherein the plain coffin of the Abbe Vergniaud
+had just been lowered. The day was misty and cold, and the sun shone
+fitfully through the wreaths of thin vapour that hung over the city,
+occasionally gleaming on the pale fine face of the famous "Gys
+Grandit", who, standing at the edge of the grave spoke his oration over
+the dead.
+
+"To this, to this," he cried, "oh people of Paris, we all must come!
+Our ambitions, our hopes, our dreams, our grand reforms, our loves and
+joys end here, so far as this world is concerned! He whom we have just
+laid in the earth was skilled in many devious ways of learning,--gifted
+with eloquence, great in scholarship, quick with the tongue as with the
+pen, he was a man whom perchance all France would have called famous
+had it not been for me! I am the blot on my father's name! I am the sin
+for which he has made the last expiation! People of Paris, for years he
+lived and worked among you,--outwardly smiling, witty of speech and
+popular with you all,--but inwardly a misery to himself in his own
+conscience, because he knew his life was not what he professed it to
+be. He knew that he did not believe what he asked YOU to accept as
+true. He knew that he had guilt upon his soul,--he knew that all the
+sins which none of you could guess at, God saw. For there is a God! Not
+the God of the priests, but the God of the Universe and of man's
+natural and spiritual instinct. He from whom nothing escapes,--He who
+ordains where every drop of dew shall fall,--He whose omnipresent
+vision perceives the flight of every small bird in the air and
+predetermines the building of its nest, and the manner of its end,--He
+is the God whom none can deceive. Those who dream they can play false
+with Him are mistaken. This dead man, my father, living among you for
+years, was contented for years to seem like you,--yes!--for you all
+have something which you think you can cover up from the searching eye
+of Fate; and many of you pretend to be what you are not,--while many
+more wear the aspect of men over the souls of beasts. My father who
+rests here to-day at our feet, was a priest of the Roman Church. In
+that capacity he should have been clothed with sanctity. Human, yet
+removed from common frailty. Yet reckless of his order, heedless of his
+vows, he, priest as he was, turned libertine, and betrayed an innocent
+woman. He destroyed her name--killed her honour--broke her heart!
+Libertines of all classes from kings to commoners, do this kind of
+thing every day, and deem it but a small fault of character.
+Nevertheless it is a crime!--and for a crime there is always
+punishment! For everything that is false,--for everything that is
+mean,--for everything that is contemptible and cowardly, punishment
+comes,--if not soon, then late. In this case vengeance was
+forestalled,--for the sinner, repenting in time, took his vengeance on
+himself. He confessed his sin before you all! That was brave! How many
+of you here to-day would have such courage! How many of you would throw
+off your cloaks of virtue and admit your vices?--or having admitted
+them, try to amend them? But this is what my father did. And for this
+he should be honoured! He told you all fully and frankly that his
+professions of faith were false and vain and conventional; and that he
+had seemed to you what he was not. Now the committal of a sin is one
+thing,--but the frankly repentant confession of that sin is another.
+Some of you will say--Who am I that I should judge my father? Why truly
+I am nothing!--and should have been nothing but the avenger of my
+mother's life and broken-hearted misery. For that I lived,--for that I
+was ready to die! What a trivial object of existence it must seem to
+you Parisians nowadays!--to avenge a mother's name! Much better to
+fight a duel for some paltry dancer! Yes!--but I am not so constituted.
+From my childhood I worked for two things--vengeance and ambition; I
+put ambition second, for I would have sacrificed it all to the fiercer
+passion. But when I sought to fulfil my vengeance, the man on whom I
+would have taken it, himself changed it into respect, pity, admiration,
+affection,--and I loved what I had so long hated! So even I, bent on
+cruelty, learned to be kind. But not so the Church! The Church of Rome
+cannot forgive the dead priest whom we have laid in all-forgiving
+Mother Earth to-day! Had he lived, the sentence of excommunication
+would have been pronounced against him,--now that he is dead, it is
+quite possible it may still be pronounced against his memory. But what
+of that? We who know, who feel, who think,--we are not led by the
+Church of Rome, but by the Church of Christ! The two things are as
+different as this grave differs from high Heaven! For we believe that
+when Magdalen breaks a precious box of perfume at the feet of Christ
+'she hath wrought a good work'. We also believe that when a man stands
+'afar off', saying 'Lord, be merciful to me a sinner!' he goes back to
+his house again justified more than he who says 'Lord, I thank Thee I
+am not as other men!' We believe that Right is right, and that nothing
+can make it wrong! And simply speaking, we know it is right to tell the
+truth, and wrong to tell a lie. For a lie is opposed to the working
+forces of Nature, and those forces sooner or later will attack it and
+overcome it. They are beginning now in our swiftly advancing day, to
+attack the Church of Rome. And why? Because its doctrine is no longer
+that of Christ, but of Mammon! This is what my father felt and knew,
+when he addressed his congregation for the last time in Notre Dame de
+Lorette. He knew that he was doomed by disease to a speedy
+death,--though he little guessed how soon that death would be. But
+feeling the premonition of his end, he resolved to speak out,--not to
+condone or excuse himself for having preached what he could not believe
+all those years,--but merely to tell you how things were with him, and
+to trust his memory to you to be dealt with as you choose. He has left
+a book behind him,--a book full of great and noble thoughts expressed
+with most pathetic humility; hence I doubt not that when you see the
+better soul of him unveiled in his expressed mind, you will yet give
+him the fame he merits. His Church judges him a heretic and castaway
+for having confessed his sin at last to the people whom he so long
+deceived,--but I for this, judge him as an honest man! And I have some
+little right to my opinion, for as Gys Grandit I have sought to
+proclaim the thoughts of many--"
+
+He paused till the murmur of enthusiasm at mention of the name by which
+he was known through France should have ceased. It rose on the air in a
+sort of bee-like humming monotone, and then died away, while many
+people stood on tip-toe and craned their necks eagerly over each
+other's shoulders to catch a glimpse of the daring writer whose works
+threatened to upset a greater power than any throne, the Roman Church.
+
+"I have tried," he resumed quietly, "as I say, to proclaim the thoughts
+of many! The people of France, like the peoples of many other nations,
+are losing God in a cloud of priest-craft. Look up to this broad canopy
+of heaven,--look up to yonder driving clouds heavy with rain, through
+which the great sun gleams like a golden shield,--that is the temple of
+the real God! That sparkling roof of air through which the planets roll
+in their tremendous orbits, bends over the wise and the foolish, the
+just and the unjust; the sun shines as kindly on the face of the street
+outcast as on that of the great lady who is often more soiled in soul
+than her miserable sister. The rich man can provide for himself no
+finer quality of light than is vouchsafed to the poor. The flowers in
+the field spring up as graciously under the feet of the beggar as the
+king. The Church of the true God is Equality!--the altar, the
+sacrament, the final resting-place of the dead, Equality! Your
+revolutionary cry was and is still,--Liberty, Equality, and
+Fraternity!--but when you shout those words, you know not what you are
+calling for. Your demand is instinctive,--the cry of a child for its
+parents. It is not for temporal things that you clamouras the foolish
+imagine,--it is for eternal things! Liberty of thought,--Equality in
+work--Fraternity in faith! But your political leaders, ever at work for
+themselves, misread these words for you, even as your priests misread
+Christ's Gospel. They make out for you that you want Liberty of
+action--Equality of riches, Fraternity in position. These things are by
+Nature's law, impossible. They are not wanted,--and reasonable
+consideration will prove to you that you do not want them,--otherwise
+you would be asking for a disordered universe, a chaos instead of a
+world! The strong must always prevail,--but by strong, I do not mean
+the strong liar or the strong evil-doer. No! For a lie contains in
+itself the germ of rottenness which shall kill--and the evil-doer is
+not strong but weak, because cowardly. There is no strength in fear; no
+power in disease! Hence I repeat again, the strong must prevail--and by
+the strong, I mean the Good! Evil is always weak,--it flourishes for a
+day, a month, a year, or if you will, a thousand years, for a thousand
+years are but a moment in the sight of Heaven; but for ever and ever
+justice is done,--for ever and ever Right comes uppermost, and the
+Strong which is God, than whom is none stronger, and who is all
+Goodness--prevails! Liberty of thought should be the privilege of every
+human creature, but we must never mistake it for Liberty of action.
+Liberty of action is restrained by law in the world of nature, and must
+be equally restrained in the world of men. But insist on Equality in
+work! What do I mean by Equality in work? I mean this,--that every
+man's work is entitled to consideration and respect, in every phase of
+life. The road-mender works well and makes a smooth way for men and
+horses;--he deserves my honour for his skill,--he has it,--he shall
+have it,--for I know he can teach me many things of which I am
+ignorant. The chief of the State works well,--organizes;--puts grave
+matters in order and establishes necessary government--he also shall
+have my respect,--he has it,--he deserves his carriage and pair as
+fully as the road-mender deserves his dinner. We should not grudge or
+envy either man the reward due to their separate positions. The
+nightingale has a sweet voice,--the peacock screams--the one is plain
+in colour, the other gorgeous,--and there is no actual equality; yet
+the one bird does not grudge the other its position, inasmuch as though
+there is no Equality there is Compensation. So it is with men. There is
+always Compensation in every lot. So it should be; so it must be.
+Equality in work means simply, respect for every kind of work done, and
+contempt for none except for him who does no work at all! And lastly
+the word 'Fraternity.' Glorious word, meaning so much!--holding
+suggestions of peace, joy and purity in its mere utterance! Not a
+Fraternity of possession--for then should we become lower than the
+beasts, who have their own separate holes, their separate mates, their
+separate young--but Fraternity of Faith!--the one Faith that teaches us
+to cry 'Abba Father,'--that makes us understand Christ as our
+Brother--and all of us the children of one family,--one creation moving
+on in process of evolvement to greater things! Let any priest tell me
+that I am not a child of God, and I will retort that he, by such an
+utterance, has proved himself a child of the devil. Ignorant, sinful,
+full of miserable imperfections as I am, I am of God as the ant is, the
+worm, the fly!--and if I have no more of God in me than such insects,
+still I am thankful to have so much! What priest shall dare to say how
+much or how little of God there was in the composition of this man
+lying in the grave at our feet, who was my father? Excommunication! Who
+can excommunicate the soul from its Creator? Who can part the sunbeam
+from the sun? Excommunication! The human being who, on what he calls
+Church authority, shall thrust his brother away from any form of
+communion which he himself judges and accepts as valuable, is one of
+those whom Christ declared to be 'in danger of hell-fire.' For there is
+no man who can, if he be true to himself, condemn his brother man, or
+say to him, 'Stand back! I am holier than thou!' Therefore, for him
+whom we lay down to rest to-day, let there be pardon and peace! Let us
+remember that for all his sins he atoned, by full confession;--by
+publicly branding himself in the sight of that society in whose
+estimation he had till then seemed something superior,--by voluntarily
+resigning himself to the wrath of the Church of which he was a
+professed servant. Cursed by his Creed, he may now perchance be blessed
+by his Creator! For he died, clean-souled and true--washed of
+hypocrisy,--with no secret vice left unhidden for others to rake up and
+expose to criticism. Whatsoever wrong he did, he openly
+admitted--whatever false things he said, he retracted. I believe--and I
+am sure we all believe, that his spirit thus purified, is acceptable to
+God. He has left no lies behind him--no debts--no wrongs to be avenged.
+He told you all, people of Paris, what he was before he left you,--and,
+looking down into this dark grave, we know what he is. A senseless,
+sightless, stiffening form of clay, from which the soul that animated
+it into action has fled. Let the Church excommunicate this poor corpse
+of my father,--let it muster its forces against his memory as it will,
+I swear before you all, that memory shall live! Yes--for I, his son,
+will guard it; I whom he so late acknowledged as his own flesh and
+blood, will be a shield of defence for his name till I die! If priests
+would attack him, they must attack him through me!--and I, despite a
+thousand Churches, a thousand Creeds, a thousand Sacraments, will
+firmly maintain that a man who frankly repents his sins and is openly
+honest with the world before he leaves it, is a better Christian than
+he, who for the sake of mere appearances and conventionality, juggles
+with death and passes to his Maker's presence in a black cloud of lies!
+Better to be crucified with Christ, than live with the High Priests and
+Pharisees of the modern Jerusalem of our social conditions! Truth may
+seem to perish on the Cross of injustice--it may be buried in a sealed
+sepulchre, the entrance to which may be closed up by a great stone of
+Mammon-bulk and heaviness--but the moment must come when the Angel
+descends from Heaven--when the stone is rolled away--and the eternal,
+living God rises again and walks the world in the glory of a new dawn!"
+
+He ended--and for a moment there was a deep silence. There had been no
+funeral service, for no priest would attend the burial of the heretic
+Abbe. So, after a brief pause, Cyrillon knelt down by the grave,--and
+carried away by the solemnity of the scene, as well as by their own
+emotional excitement, more than half the crowd knelt with him, as,
+bending his head reverently over his clasped hands, he prayed aloud--
+
+"Oh God of Love, whose tenderness and care for Thy creation is
+everywhere disclosed to us, from the smallest atom of dust, to the
+stupendous majesty of Thy million worlds in the air,--give we beseech
+Thee, to this perished clay which once was man, the beauty which
+transforms vile things to virtuous, and endows our seeming death with
+life! Let Thy eternal Law of Resurrection so work upon this senseless
+body that it may pass through Earth to Heaven, and there find finer
+grades of being, higher forms of development, greater opportunities of
+perfection. And for the Soul, which is Thine own breath of fire, O God,
+receive it, purified from sin, and make it worthy of the final purpose
+for which Thou hast destined it from the beginning! And grant unto us,
+left here to still work out our own salvation on this the planet Thou
+hast chosen for our trial, the power to comprehend Thy laws, and
+faithfully to obey them,--to forgive as we would be forgiven,--to love
+as we would be loved,--and to lift our thoughts from the appearance of
+this grave to the Reality of Thy beneficence, which hath ordained Light
+out of Darkness, and out of Death, Life, as proved most gloriously to
+us by Christ our Brother, our Teacher and our Master! Amen!"
+
+His prayer finished, the young man rose, and taking a wreath of ivy,
+which he had travelled to Touraine himself to bring from the walls of
+the simple cottage where his mother had lived and worked and died, he
+dropped it gently on the coffin and signed to the grave-diggers to fill
+in the earth. Then turning to the crowd, he said,
+
+"My friends, I thank you all for the sympathy which has brought you
+here to-day. 'It is finished.' The dead man is at rest! And now as you
+go,--as you return to your own homes,--homes happy or unhappy as the
+case may be, I will only ask you to remember that there is no
+permanence or virtue in falsehood whether it be falsehood religious or
+falsehood political,--and he who dies truthfully dealing with his
+fellow-men, lives again with God, and is not, as Scripture says 'dead
+in his sins,' but born again to a new and more hopeful existence!"
+
+With the last words he gave the sign of dismissal. The people began to
+disperse slowly and somewhat reluctantly, every member of the crowd
+being curious to obtain a nearer view of the young orator who not only
+spoke his thoughts fearlessly, but whose pen was as a scythe mowing
+down a harvest of shams and hypocrisies, and whose frank utterance from
+the heart was so honest as to be absolutely convincing to the public.
+But he, after giving a few further instructions to the men who were
+beginning to close in his father's grave, walked away with one or two
+friends, and was soon lost to sight in one of the many winding paths
+that led from the cemetery out into the road, so that many who
+anxiously sought to study his features more nearly, were disappointed.
+One person there was, who had listened to his oration in wonder and
+open-mouthed admiration,--this was Jean Patoux. He had taken the
+opportunity offered him in a "cheap excursion" from Rouen to Paris, to
+visit a cousin of his who was a small florist owning a shop in the Rue
+St. Honore,--and by chance, he and this same cousin, while quietly
+walking together down one of the boulevards, had got entangled in the
+press of people who were pouring into Pere-la-Chaise on this occasion,
+and had followed them out of curiosity, not at all knowing what they
+were going to see. But the florist, known as Pierre Midon, soon
+realised the situation and explained it all to his provincial relative.
+
+"It is the Abbe Vergniaud they are burying," he said,--"He was a
+wonderful preacher! All fashionable Paris used to go and hear him till
+he made that pretty scandal of himself a month or so ago. He was a
+popular and a social favourite; but one fine morning he preached a
+sermon to his congregation all against the Church, and for that matter
+against himself too, for he then and there confessed before everybody
+that he was no true priest. And as he preached,--what think you?--a
+young man fired a pistol shot at him for his rascality, as everyone
+supposed, and when the gendarmes would have taken the assassin, this
+same Abbe stopped them, and refused to punish HIS OWN SON! What do you
+think of that for a marvel? And something still more marvellous
+followed, for that very son who tried to kill him was no other than Gys
+Grandit, the man we have just heard speaking, though nobody knew it
+till a week afterwards. Such a scene you never saw in a church!--Paris
+was wild with excitement for a dozen hours, which is about as long as
+its fevers last,--and the two of them, father and son, went straight
+away to a famous Cardinal then staying in Paris,--and he, by the way,
+was in the church when the Abbe publicly confessed himself--Cardinal
+Bonpre--"
+
+"Ah!" interrupted Patoux excitedly, "This interests me! For that most
+eminent Cardinal stayed at my inn in Rouen before coming on here!"
+
+"So!" And Cousin Pierre looked rather surprised. "Without offence to
+thee, Jean, it was a poor place for a Cardinal, was it not?"
+
+"Poor, truly,--but sufficient for a man of his mind!" replied Patoux
+tranquilly,--"For look you, he is trying to live as Christ lived,--and
+Christ cared naught for luxury."
+
+Pierre Midon laughed.
+
+"By my faith! If priests were to live as Christ lived, Paris might
+learn to respect them!" he said,--"But we know that they will not,--and
+that few of them are better than the worst of us! But to finish my
+story--this Abbe and the son whom he so suddenly and strangely
+acknowledged, went to this Cardinal Bonpre for some reason--most
+probably for pardon, though truly I cannot tell you what happened--for
+almost immediately, the Abbe went out of Paris to the Chateau
+D'Agramont some miles away, and his son went with him, and there the
+two stayed together till the old man died. And as for Cardinal Bonpre,
+he went at once to Rome with his niece, the famous painter, Angela
+Sovrani,--I imagine he may have interceded with the Pope, or tried to
+do so for the Abbe, but whatever happened, there they are now, for all
+I know to the contrary. And we heard that the Church was about to
+excommunicate, or had already excommunicated Vergniaud, though I
+suppose Cardinal Bonpre had nothing to do with that?"
+
+"Not he!" said Patoux firmly, "He would never excommunicate or do any
+unkind thing to a living soul--that I am pretty sure of. He is the very
+Cardinal who performed the miracle in my house that has caused us no
+end of trouble,--and he is under the displeasure of the Pope for it
+now, if all I hear be true."
+
+"That is strange!" said Pierre with a laugh,--"To be under the
+displeasure of the Pope for doing a good deed!"
+
+"Truly, it seems so," agreed Patoux,--"But you must remember there was
+no paying shrine concerned in it! Mark you that, my Pierre! Even our
+Lady of Bon Secours, near to Rouen as she is, was not applied to. The
+miracle took place in the poor habitation of an unknown little
+inn-keeper,--that is myself,--and there was no solemnity at all about
+it--no swinging of incense--no droning of prayers--no lighting of
+candles--no anything, but just a good old man with a crippled child on
+his knee, praying to the Christ whom he believed was able to help him.
+And--and--"
+
+He broke off suddenly and crossed himself. Pierre Midon stared at the
+action.
+
+"What ails thee, Jean?" he asked brusquely,--"Hast thou remembered a
+dead sin, or a passing soul?"
+
+"Neither," replied Patoux slowly, "But only just the thought of another
+child--a waif and stray whom the good Cardinal found in the streets of
+Rouen, outside our great Cathedral door. A gentle lad!--my wife was
+greatly taken with him;--and he was present in my house too, when the
+miracle of healing was performed."
+
+"And for that, is there any need to cross thyself like a mumbling old
+woman afraid of the devil?" enquired his cousin.
+
+Patoux smiled a slow smile.
+
+"Gently, Pierre--gently!" he said. "Thou art of Paris,--I of the
+provinces. That makes all the difference in the way we look at life.
+There are very few holy things in great cities,--but there are many in
+the country. Every day when I am at home I go out of the town to work
+in my field,--and I feel the clean breath of the wind, the scent of the
+earth and the colours of the sky and the flowers,--and I know quite
+well there is a God, or these blessings could not be. For if there were
+only Chance and a Man to manage the universe, a pretty muddle we should
+have of it! And when I see or think of a holy thing, I sign the cross
+out of old childhood's habit,--so just now, when I remembered the boy
+whom the Cardinal rescued from the streets, I knew I was thinking of a
+holy thing; and that explains my action."
+
+"How dost thou prove a waif of the streets a holy thing?" enquired
+Pierre curiously.
+
+Patoux shrugged his shoulders, and gave a wide deprecatory wave of both
+hands.
+
+"Ah, that is more than I can tell you!" he said,--"It is a matter
+beyond my skill. But the boy was a fair-faced boy,--I never saw him
+myself--"
+
+Midon laughed outright.
+
+"Never saw him thyself!" he cried,--"And yet thou dost make the sign of
+the cross at the thought of him! Diantre! Patoux, thou art crazy!"
+
+"Maybe--maybe," said Patoux mildly,--they were walking together out of
+the cemetery by this time in the wake of the rapidly dispersing
+crowd,--"But I have always taken my wife's word,--and I take it now.
+And she has said over and over again to me that the boy had a rare
+sweet nature. And then--the child whom the Cardinal healed,--Fabien
+Doucet,--will always insist upon it that it was the touch of that same
+boy which truly cured him and not the Cardinal at all!"
+
+"Mere fancy!" said Pierre carelessly,--"And truly if it were not for
+knowing thee to be honest, I should doubt the miracle altogether!"
+
+"And thou wouldst be of the majority!" said Patoux equably--"For our
+house has been a very bee-hive of buzz and trouble ever since a bit of
+good was done in it--and Martine Doucet, the mother of the cured child,
+has led the life of the damned, thanks to the kindness of her
+neighbours and friends! And will you believe me, the Archbishop of
+Rouen himself took the trouble to walk into the market-place and assure
+her she was a wicked woman,--that she had taught her boy to play the
+cripple in order to excite pity,--and I believe he thinks she is
+concerned in the strange disappearance of his clerk, Claude Cazeau. For
+this same Cazeau came to our house one night when Martine was there,
+and told her he had instructions to take her to Rome to see the Pope,
+and her child with her, for the purpose of explaining the miracle in
+her own words, and giving the full life-history of herself and the
+little one. And she was angry,--ah, she can be very angry, poor
+Martine!--she has a shrill tongue and a wild eye, and she said out
+flatly that she would not go, and furthermore that she would not be
+caught in a priest's trap, or words to that effect. And this clerk,
+Cazeau,--a miserable little white-livered rascal, crawled away from my
+door in a rage with us all, and was never seen again. The police have
+hunted high and low for trace of him, but can find none. But I have my
+suspicions--"
+
+"What are they?" enquired Midon,--"That he went out like Judas, and
+hanged himself?"
+
+"Truly he might have done that without loss or trouble to anyone!" said
+Patoux tranquilly,--"But he thought too well of himself to be quite so
+ready for a meeting with le bon Dieu! No!--I will tell you what I
+think. There was a poor girl who used to roam about the streets of our
+town, called Marguerite, she was once a sensible, bright creature
+enough, the only daughter of old Valmond the saddler, who died from a
+kick from his favourite horse one day, and left his child all alone in
+the world. She was a worker in a great silk-factory, and was happy and
+contented, so it seemed, till--well! It is the old story--a man with a
+woman, and the man is most often the devil in it. Anyway, this
+Marguerite went mad on her love-affair,--and we called her 'La
+Folle,'--not harshly--for all the town was kind to her. I mentioned her
+name once in the presence of this man Cazeau, and he started as if an
+adder had bitten him. And now--he has disappeared--and strange to say,
+so has she!"
+
+"So has she!" echoed Midon, opening his eyes a little wider--"Then what
+do you suppose?--"
+
+"Just this," said Patoux, emphasizing his words by marking them out
+with a fat thumb on the palm of the other hand--"That Cazeau was the
+villain of the piece as they say in the theatres, and that she has
+punished him for his villainy. She used to swear in her mad speech that
+if ever she met the man who had spoilt her life for her, she would kill
+him; and that is just what I believe she has done!"
+
+"But would she kill herself also?" demanded Pierre--"And what has
+become of one or both bodies?"
+
+"Ah! There thou dost ask more than I can answer!" said Patoux. "But
+what is very certain is, that both bodies, living or dead, have
+disappeared. And as I said to my wife when she put these things into my
+head,--for look you, my head is but a dull one, and if my wife did not
+put things into it, it would be but an emptiness altogether,--I said to
+my wife that if she were right in her suspicions--and she generally is
+right--this Marguerite had taken but a just vengeance. For you will not
+prove to me that there is any man living who has the right to take the
+joy out of a woman's soul and destroy it."
+
+"It is done every day!" said Midon with a careless shrug,--"Women give
+themselves too easily!"
+
+"And men take too greedily!" said Patoux obstinately--"What virtue
+there is in the matter is on the woman's side. For she mostly gives
+herself for love's sake,--but the man cares naught save for his own
+selfish pleasure. As a man myself, I am on the side of the woman who
+revenges herself on her betrayer."
+
+"For that matter so am I!" said Midon. "Women have a hard time of it in
+this world, even under the best of circumstances,--and whatever man
+makes it harder for them, should be horse-whipped within an inch of his
+life, if I had my way. I have a wife--and a young daughter--and my old
+mother sits at home with us, as cheery and bright a body as you would
+find in all France,--and so I know the worth of women. If any rascal
+were to insult my girl by so much as a look, he would find himself in
+the ditch with a sore back before he had time to cry 'Dieu merci!'"
+
+He laughed;--Patoux laughed with him, and then went on,--
+
+"I told thee of the miracle in my house, and of the boy the Cardinal
+found in the streets,--well!--these things have had their good effect
+in my own family. My two children, Henri and Babette--ah! What
+children! God be praised for them! As bright, as kind as the
+sunlight,--and their love for me and their mother is a great thing--a
+good thing, look you!--one cannot be sufficiently grateful for it. For
+nowadays, children too often despise their parents, which is bad luck
+to them in their after days; but ours, wild as they were a while ago,
+are all obedience and sweetness. I used often to wonder what would
+become of them as they grew up--for they were wilful and
+angry-tempered, and ofttimes cruel in speech--but I have no fear now.
+Henri works well at his lessons, and Babette too,--and there is
+something better than the learning of lessons about them,--something
+new and bright in their dispositions which makes us all happy. And this
+has come about since the Cardinal stayed with us; and also since the
+pretty boy was found outside the Cathedral!"
+
+"That boy seems to have impressed thee more than the Cardinal himself!"
+said Midon--"but now I remember well--on the day the Abbe Vergniaud
+preached his last sermon, and was nearly shot dead by his own son,
+there was a rumour that his life had been saved by some boy who was an
+attendant on the Cardinal, and who interposed himself between the Abbe
+and the flying bullet,--that must have been the one you mean?"
+
+"No doubt--no doubt!" said Patoux, nodding gravely--"There was
+something about him that seemed a sort of shield against evil--or at
+least, so said my wife,--and so say my children. Only the other day, my
+boy Henri--he is big and full of mischief as boys will be--was playing
+with two or three younger lads, and one of them like a little sneak,
+stole up behind him and gave him a blow with a stick, which broke in
+two with the force of the way the young rascal went to work with it.
+Now, thought I, there will be need for me to step out and stop this
+quarrel, for Henri will beat that miserable little wretch into a jelly!
+But nothing of the sort! My boy turned round with a bright
+laugh--picked up the two pieces of the stick and gave them back to the
+little coward with a civil bow "Hit in front next time!" he said. And
+the little wretch turned tail and began to boo-hoo in fine
+fashion--crying as if he had been hurt instead of Henri. But they are
+the best friends in the world now. I asked Henri about it afterwards,
+and he turned as red as an apple in the cheeks. 'I wanted to kill him,
+father,' he said,--'but I knew that the boy who was with Cardinal
+Bonpre would not have done it--and so I did not!' Now look you, for a
+rough little fellow such as Henri, that was a great victory over his
+passions--and there is no doubt the Cardinal's little foundling was the
+cause of his so managing himself."
+
+Pierre Midon had nothing to say in answer,--the subject was getting
+beyond him, and he was a man who, when thought became difficult, gave
+up thinking altogether.
+
+And while these two simple-minded worthies were thus talking and
+strolling together home through the streets of Paris, Cyrillon
+Vergniaud, having parted from the few friends who had paid him the
+respect of their attendance at his father's grave, was making his way
+towards the Champs Elysees in a meditative frame of mind, when his
+attention was suddenly caught and riveted by a placard set up in front
+of one of the newspaper kiosks at the corner of a boulevard, on which
+in great black letters, was the name "Angela Sovrani." His heart gave
+one great bound--then stood still--the streets of the city reeled round
+him, and he grew cold and sick. "Meurtre de la celebre Angela Sovrani!"
+
+Hardly knowing what he was about, he bought the paper. The news was in
+a mere paragraph briefly stating that the celebrated artist had been
+found stabbed in her studio, and that up to the present there was no
+trace of the unknown assassin.
+
+Passionate and emotional as his warm nature was, the great tears rushed
+to Cyrillon's eyes. In one moment he realized what he had been almost
+unconsciously cherishing in his own mind ever since Angela's beautiful
+smile had shone upon him. When in the few minutes of speech he had had
+with her she admitted herself to be the mysterious correspondent who
+had constantly written to him as "Gys Grandit," fervently sympathising
+with his theories, and urging him on to fresh and more courageous
+effort, he had been completely overcome, not only with surprise, but
+also with admiration. It had taken him some time to realize that she,
+the greatest artist of her day, was actually his unknown friend of more
+than two years' correspondence. He knew she was engaged to be married
+to her comrade in art, Florian Varillo, but that fact did not prevent
+him from feeling for her all the sudden tenderness, the instinctive
+intimacy of spirit with spirit, which in the highest natures means the
+highest love. Then,--they had all been brought together so
+strangely!--his father, and himself, with Cardinal Bonpre,--and
+she--the Cardinal's fair niece, daughter of a proud Roman house,--she
+had not turned away from the erring and repentant priest whom the
+Church had cast out; she had given him her hand at parting, and had
+been as sweetly considerate of his feelings as though she had been his
+own daughter. And when he was ill and dying at the Chateau D'Agramont,
+she had written to him two or three times in the kindest and tenderest
+way, and her letters had not been answered, because the Abbe was too
+ill to write, and he, Cyrillon, had been afraid--lest he should say too
+much! And now--she was dead?--murdered? No!--he would not believe it!
+
+"God is good!" said Cyrillon, crushing the paper in his hand and
+raising his eyes to the cloudy heavens--"He does nothing that is
+unnecessarily cruel. He would not take that brilliant creature away
+till she had won the reward of her work--happiness! No!--something
+tells me this news is false!--she cannot be dead! But I will start for
+Rome to-night."
+
+He returned to the cheap pension where he had his room, and at once
+packed his valise. With all his fame he was extremely poor; he had for
+the most part refused to take payment for his books and pamphlets which
+had been so freely spread through France, preferring to work for his
+daily bread in the fields of an extensive farm near his birthplace in
+Touraine. He had begun there as a little lad, earning his livelihood by
+keeping the birds away from the crops--and had steadily risen by
+degrees, through his honesty and diligence, to the post of
+superintendent or bailiff of the whole concern. No one was more trusted
+than he by his employers,--no one more worthy of trust. But his wages
+were by no means considerable,--and though he saved as much as he
+could, and lived on the coarsest fare, it was a matter of some trouble
+for him to spare the money to take him from Paris to Rome. What cash he
+had, he carried about him in a leathern bag, and this he now emptied on
+the table to estimate the strength of his finances. Any possibility of
+changing his mind and waiting for further news from Rome did not occur
+to him. One of his chief characteristics was the determined way he
+always carried through anything he had set his mind upon. In one of his
+public speeches he had once said--"Let all the powers of hell oppose
+me, I will storm them through and pass on! For the powers of Heaven are
+on MY side!"--the audacity and daring of this utterance carrying away
+his audience in a perfect whirlwind of enthusiasm. And though it is
+related of a certain cynical philosopher, that when asked by one of his
+scholars for a definition of hell, he dashed into the face of his
+enquirer an empty purse for answer, the lack of funds was no obstacle
+to Cyrillon's intended journey.
+
+"Because if I can go no other way, I will persuade the guard to let me
+ride in the van, or travel in company with a horse or dog--quite as
+good animals as myself in their way," he thought.
+
+With a characteristic indifference to all worldly matters he had
+entirely forgotten that the father whom he had just buried had died
+wealthy, and that his entire fortune had been left to the son whom he
+had so lately and strangely acknowledged. And when,--while he was still
+engaged in counting up his small stock of money,--a knock came at the
+door, and a well-dressed man of business-like appearance entered with a
+smiling and propitiatory air, addressing him as "Monsieur Vergniaud,"
+Cyrillon did not know at all what to make of his visitor. Sweeping his
+coins together with one hand, he stood up, his flashing eyes glancing
+the stranger over carelessly.
+
+"Your name, sir?" he demanded--"I am not acquainted with you."
+
+The smiling man unabashed, sought about for a place to put down his
+shiny hat, and smiled still more broadly.
+
+"No!" he said--"No! You would not be likely to know me. I have not the
+celebrity of Gys Grandit! I am only Andre Petitot--a lawyer, residing
+in the Boulevard Malesherbes. I have just come from your father's
+funeral."
+
+Cyrillon bowed gravely, and remained silent.
+
+"I have followed you," pursued Monsieur Petitot affably, "as soon as I
+could, according to the instructions I received, to ask when it will be
+convenient for you to hear me read your father's will?"
+
+The young man started.
+
+"His will!" he ejaculated. He had never given it a thought. "Yes. May I
+take a chair? There are only two in the room, I perceive! Thanks!" And
+the lawyer sat down and began drawing off his gloves,--"Your father had
+considerable means,--though he parted with much that he might have
+kept, through his extraordinary liberality to the poor--"
+
+"God bless him!" murmured Cyrillon.
+
+"Yes--yes--no doubt God will bless him!" said Monsieur Petitot
+amicably--"According to your way of thinking, He ought to do so. But
+personally, I always find the poor extremely ungrateful, and God
+certainly does not bless ME whenever I encourage them in their habits
+of idleness and vice! However, that is not a question for discussion at
+present. The immediate point is this--your father made his will about
+eighteen months ago, leaving everything to you. The wording of the will
+is unusual, but he insisted obstinately on having it thus set down--"
+
+Here the lawyer drew a paper out of his pocket, fixed a pair of
+spectacles on his nose, and studied the document intently--"Yes!--it
+reads in this way:--' Everything of which I die possessed to my son,
+Cyrillon Vergniaud, born out of wedlock, but as truly my son in the
+sight of God, as Ninette Bernadin was his mother, and my wife, though
+never so legalised before the world, but fully acknowledged by me
+before God, and before the Church which I have served and disobeyed.' A
+curious wording!" said Petitot, nodding his head a great many
+times--"Very curious! I told him so--but he would have it his own
+way,--moreover, I am instructed to publish his will in any Paris paper
+that will give it a place. Now this clause is to my mind exceedingly
+disagreeable, and I wish I could set it aside."
+
+"Why?" asked Cyrillon quietly.
+
+"My dear young man! Can you ask? Why emphasise the fact of your
+illegitimacy to the public!"
+
+"Why disguise it?" returned Cyrillon. "You must remember that I have
+another public than the merely social,--the people! They all know what
+I am, and who I am. They have honoured me. They shall not despise me.
+And they would despise me if I sought to hold back from them what my
+father bade me tell. Moreover, this will gives my mother the honour of
+wifehood in the sight of God,--and I must tell you, monsieur l'avocat,
+that I am one of those who care nothing what the world says so long as
+I stand more or less clear with the world's Creator!"
+
+His great dark eyes were brilliant,--his face warm with the fire of his
+inward feeling. Monsieur Petitot folded up his document and looked at
+him with an amiable tolerance.
+
+"Wonderful--wonderful!" he said--"But of course eccentricities WILL
+appear in the world occasionally!--and you must pardon me if I venture
+to think that you are certainly one of them. But I imagine you have
+nograsped the whole position. The money--I should saythe fortune--which
+your father has left to you, will make you a gentleman--"
+
+He paused, affrighted. Drawing himself up to his full height, young
+Vergniaud confronted him in haughty amazement.
+
+"Gentleman!" he cried--"What do you mean by the term? A loafer?--a
+lounger in the streets?--a leerer at women? Or a man who works for
+daily food from sunrise to sunset, and controls his lower passions by
+hard and honest labour! Gentleman! What is that? Is it to live lazily
+on the toil of others, or to be up and working one's self, and to eat
+no bread that one has not earned? Will you answer me?"
+
+"My dear sir, you must really excuse me!" said Petitot nervously--" I
+am quite unable to enter into any sort of discussion with you on these
+things! Please recollect that my life as a lawyer, depends entirely on
+men's stupidities and hypocrisies,--if they all entertained your views
+I should have to beg in the streets, or seek another profession. In my
+present business I should have nothing whatever to do. You perceive the
+position? Yes, of course you do!" For Cyrillon with one of the quick
+changes of mood habitual to him, smiled, as his temporary irritation
+passed like a cloud, and his eyes softened--"You see, I am a
+machine,--educated to be a machine; and I am set down to do certain
+machine-like duties,--and one of these duties is,--regardless of your
+fame, your eccentric theories, your special work which you have chosen
+to make for yourself in the world,--to put you in possession of the
+money your father left you--"
+
+"Can you now--at once--" said Cyrillon suddenly--"give me enough money
+to go to Rome to-night?"
+
+Monsieur Petitot stared.
+
+"To go to Rome to-night?" he echoed--"Dear me, how very extraordinary!
+I beg your pardon! . . . of course--most certainly! I can advance you
+any sum you want--would ten thousand francs suffice?"
+
+"Ten thousand francs!" Cyrillon laughed. "I never had so much money in
+all my life!"
+
+"No? Well, I have not the notes about me at the moment, but I will send
+you up that sum in an hour if you wish it. Your father's will entitles
+you to five million francs, so you see I am not in any way endangering
+myself by advancing you ten thousand."
+
+Cyrillon was quite silent. The lawyer studied him curiously, but could
+not determine whether he was pleased or sorry at the announcement of
+his fortune. His handsome face was pale and grave,--and after a pause
+he said simply--
+
+"Thank you! Then I can go to Rome. If you will send me the money you
+speak of I shall be glad, as it will enable me to start to-night. For
+the rest,--kindly publish my father's will as he instructed you to
+do,--and I--when I return to Paris, will consult you on the best way in
+which I can dispose of my father's millions."
+
+"Dispose of them!" began Petitot amazedly. Young Vergniaud interrupted
+him by a slight gesture.
+
+"Pardon me, Monsieur, if I ask you to conclude this interview! For the
+present, I want nothing else in the world but to get to Rome as quickly
+as possible!--apres ca, le deluge!"
+
+He smiled--but his manner was that of some great French noble who
+gently yet firmly dismisses the attentions of a too-officious
+servant,--and Petitot, much to his own surprise, found himself bowing
+low, and scrambling out of the poorly furnished room in as much
+embarrassment as though he had accidentally stumbled into a palace
+where his presence was not required.
+
+And Cyrillon, left to himself, gathered up all the coins he had been
+counting out previous to the lawyer's arrival, and tied them again
+together in the old leathern bag; then having closed and strapped his
+little travelling valise, sat down and waited. Punctually to the time
+indicated, that is to say, in one hour from the moment Petitot had
+concluded his interview with the celebrated personage whom he now
+mentally called "an impossible young man," a clerk arrived bringing the
+ten thousand francs promised. He counted the notes out
+carefully,--Cyrillon watching him quietly the while, and taking
+sympathetic observation of his shabby appearance, his thread-bare coat,
+and his general expression of pinched and anxious poverty.
+
+"You will perceive it is all right, Monsieur," he said humbly, as he
+finished counting.
+
+"What are you, mon ami?" asked Cyrillon; scarcely glancing at the notes
+but fixing a searching glance on the messenger who had brought them.
+
+"I?" and the clerk coughed nervously and blushed,--"Oh, I am nothing,
+Monsieur! I am Monsieur Petitot's clerk, that is all!"
+
+"And does he pay you well?"
+
+"Thirty francs a week, Monsieur. It is not bad,--only this--I was young
+a few years ago, and I married--and two dear little ones came--so it is
+a pull at times to make everything go as it should--not that I am sorry
+for myself at all, oh no! For I am well off as the people go--"
+
+Cyrillon interrupted him.
+
+"Yes--as the people go! That is what you all say, you patient, brave
+souls! See you, my friend, I do not want all this money--"and he took
+up a note for five hundred francs--"Take this and make the wife and
+little ones happy!"
+
+"Monsieur!" stammered the astonished clerk--"How can I dare--!"
+
+"Dare! Nay, there is no daring in freely taking what your brother
+freely gives you! You must let me practise what I preach, my friend,
+otherwise I am only a fraud and unfit to live. God keep you!"
+
+The clerk still stood trembling, afraid to take up the note, and unable
+through emotion to speak a word, even of thanks. Upon which, Cyrillon
+folded up the note and put it himself in the man's pocket.
+
+"There!--go and make happiness with that bit of paper!" he said--"Who
+can tell through what dirty usurer's hand it has been, carrying curses
+with it perchance on its way! Use it now for the comfort of a woman and
+her little children, and perhaps it will bring blessing to a living man
+as well as to a departed soul!"
+
+And he literally put the poor stupefied fellow outside his door,
+shutting it gently upon him.
+
+That night he left for Rome. And as the express tore its grinding way
+along over the iron rails towards the south, he repeated to himself
+over and over again as in a dream--
+
+"No--Angela Sovrani is not dead! She cannot be dead! God is too good
+for that. He will not let her die before she knows--before she knows I
+love her!"
+
+
+
+
+XXXIII.
+
+The chain of circumstance had lengthened by several links round the
+radiant life of Sylvie Hermenstem since that bright winter morning when
+she had been startled out of her reverie, in the gardens of the Villa
+Borghese, by the unexpected appearance of Monsignor Gherardi. The
+untimely deaths of the Marquis Fontenelle and the actor Miraudin in the
+duel over her name, had caused so much malicious and cruel gossip, that
+she had withdrawn herself almost entirely from Roman society, which
+had, with one venomous consent, declared that she was only marrying
+Aubrey Leigh to shield herself from her esclandre with the late
+Marquis. And then the murderous attack on her friend Angela Sovrani,
+which occurred almost immediately after her engagement to Aubrey was
+announced, had occupied all her thoughts--so that she had almost
+forgotten the promise she had made to grant a private interview to
+Gherardi whenever he should seek it. And she was not a little vexed one
+morning when she was talking to her betrothed concerning the plans
+which were now in progress for their going to England as soon as
+possible, to receive a note reminding her of that promise, and
+requesting permission to call upon her that very afternoon.
+
+"How very unfortunate and tiresome!" said Sylvie, with a charming pout
+and upward look at her lover, who promptly kissed the lips that made
+such a pretty curve of disdain--"I suppose he wants to give me a
+serious lecture on the responsibilities of marriage! Shall I receive
+him, Aubrey? I remember when I met him last that he had something
+important to say about Cardinal Bonpre."
+
+"Then you must certainly give him an audience," answered Aubrey--"You
+may perhaps find out what has happened to bring the good Cardinal into
+disfavour at the Vatican, for there is no doubt that he is extremely
+worried and anxious. He is strongly desirous of leaving Rome at once
+with that gentle lad Manuel, who, from all I can gather, has said
+something to displease the Pope. Angela is out of danger now--and I am
+trying to persuade the Cardinal to accompany us to England, and be
+present at our marriage."
+
+"That would be delightful!" said Sylvie with a smile,--"But my Aubrey,
+where are we going to be married?"
+
+"In England, as I said--not here!" said Aubrey firmly--"Not here, where
+evil tongues have spoken lies against my darling!" He drew her into his
+arms and looked at her fondly. "I want you to start for England soon,
+Sylvie--and if possible, I should like you to go, not only with the
+faithful Bozier, but also in the care of the Cardinal. I will precede
+you by some days, and arrange everything for your reception. And then
+we will be married--in MY way!"
+
+Sylvie said nothing--she merely nestled like a dove in the arms of her
+betrothed, and seemed quite content to accept whatever ordinance he
+laid down for the ruling of her fate.
+
+"I think you must see Gherardi," he resumed--"Write a line and say you
+will be happy to receive him at the hour he appoints."
+
+Sylvie obeyed--and despatched the note at once to the Vatican by her
+man-servant.
+
+Aubrey looked at her intently.
+
+"I wonder--Sylvie, I wonder--" he began, and then stopped.
+
+She met his earnest eyes with a smile in her own.
+
+"You wonder what, caro mio?" she enquired.
+
+"I wonder whether you could endure a very great trial--or make a very
+great sacrifice for my sake!" he said,--then as he saw her expression,
+he took her little hand and kissed it.
+
+"There! Forgive me! Of course you would!--only you look such a slight
+thing--such a soft flower of a woman--like a rose-bud to be worn next
+the heart always--that it seems difficult to picture you as an
+inflexible heroine under trying circumstances. Yet of course you would
+be."
+
+"I make no boast, my Aubrey!" she said gently.
+
+He kissed her tenderly,--reverently,--studying her sweet eyes and
+delicate colouring with all the fond scrutiny of a love which cannot
+tire of the thing it loves.
+
+"Are you going round to see Angela this morning?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, I always go. She is much better--she sits up a little every day
+now."
+
+"She says nothing of her assassin?"
+
+"Nothing. But I know him!"
+
+"We all know him!" said Aubrey sternly--"But she will never speak--she
+will never let the world know!"
+
+"Ah, but the world will soon guess!" said Sylvie--"For everyone is
+beginning to ask where her fiance is--why he has shown no anxiety--why
+he has not been to see her--and a thousand other questions."
+
+"That does not matter! While she is silent, no one dare accuse him.
+What a marvellous spirit of patience and forgiveness she has!"
+
+"Angela is like her name--an angel!" declared Sylvie impulsively, the
+tears springing to her eyes--"I could almost worship her, when I see
+her there in her sickroom, looking so white and frail and sad,--quiet
+and patient--thanking us all for every little service done--and never
+once mentioning the name of Florian--the man she loved so passionately.
+Sometimes the dear old Cardinal sits beside her and talks--sometimes
+her father,--Manuel is nearly always with her, and she is quite easy
+and content, one would almost say happy when he is there, he is so very
+gentle with her. But you can see through it all the awful sorrow that
+weighs upon her heart,--you can see she has lost something she can
+never find again,--her eyes look so wistful--her smile is so sad--poor
+Angela!"
+
+Aubrey was silent a moment. "What of the Princesse D'Agramont?"
+
+"Oh, she is simply a treasure!" said Sylvie enthusiastically--"She and
+my dear old Bozier are never weary in well-doing! As soon as Angela can
+be moved, the Princesse wants to take her back to Paris,--because then
+Rome can be allowed to pour into her studio to see her great picture."
+
+"What does Angela say to that?"
+
+"Angela seems resigned to anything!" answered Sylvie. "The only wish
+she ever expresses is that Manuel should not leave her."
+
+"There is something wonderful about that boy," said Aubrey
+slowly--"From the first time I saw him he impressed me with a sense of
+something altogether beyond his mere appearance. He is a child--yet not
+a child--and I have often felt that he commands me without my realising
+that I am so commanded."
+
+"Aubrey! How strange!"
+
+"Yes, it is strange!--" and Aubrey's eyes grew graver with the
+intensity of his thought--"There is some secret--but--" he broke off
+with a puzzled air--"I cannot explain it, so it is no use thinking
+about it! I went to Varillo's studio yesterday and asked if there had
+been any news of him--but there was none. I wonder where the brute has
+gone!"
+
+"It would be well if he had made exit out of the world altogether,"
+said Sylvie--"But he is too vain of himself for that! However, his
+absence creates suspicion--and even if Angela does not speak, people
+will guess for themselves what she does not say. He will never dare to
+show himself in Rome!"
+
+Their conversation was abruptly terminated here by the entrance of
+Madame Bozier with a quantity of fresh flowers which she had been out
+to purchase, for Sylvie to take as usual on her morning visit to her
+suffering friend; and Aubrey took his leave, promising to return later
+in the afternoon, after Monsignor Gherardi had been and gone.
+
+But he had his own ideas on the subject of Gherardi's visit to his fair
+betrothed,--ideas which he kept to himself, for if his surmises were
+correct, now was the time to put Sylvie's character to the test. He did
+not doubt her stability in the very least, but he could never quite get
+away from her mignonne child-like appearance of woman, to the
+contemplation of the spirit behind the pretty exterior. Her beauty was
+so riante, so dazzling, so dainty, that it seemed to fire the very air
+as a sunbeam fires it,--and there was no room for any more serious
+consideration than that of purely feminine charm. Walking dreamily,
+almost unseeingly through the streets, he thought again and yet again
+of the sweet face, the rippling hair, the laughing yet tender eyes, the
+sunny smile. Behind that beautiful picture or earth-phantom of
+womanhood, is there that sword of flame, the soul?--the soul that will
+sweep through shams, and come out as bright and glittering at the end
+of the fight as at the beginning?--he mused;--or is it not almost too
+much to expect of a mere woman that she can contend against the anger
+of a Church?
+
+He was still thinking on this subject, when someone walking quickly
+came face to face with him, and said--
+
+"Aubrey!" He started and stared,--then uttered a cry of pleasure.
+
+"Gys Grandit!"
+
+The two men clasped each other's hands in a warm, strong grasp--and for
+a moment neither could speak.
+
+"My dear fellow!" said Aubrey at last--"This is indeed an unexpected
+meeting! How glad I am to see you! When did you arrive in Rome?"
+
+"This morning only," said Cyrillon, recovering his speech and his
+equanimity together--"And as soon as I arrived, I found that my hopes
+had not betrayed me--she is not dead!"
+
+"She?" Aubrey started--"My dear Grandit! Or rather I must call you
+Vergniaud now--who is the triumphant 'she' that has brought you thus
+post haste to Rome?"
+
+Cyrillon flushed--then grew pale.
+
+"I should not have spoken!" he said--"And yet, why not! You were my
+first friend!--you found me working in the fields, a peasant lad,
+untrained and sullen, burning up my soul with passionate thoughts
+which, but for you, might never have blossomed into action,--you
+rescued me--you made me all I am! So why should I not confess to you at
+once that there is a woman I love!--yes, love with all my soul, though
+I have seen her but once!--and she is too far off, too fair and great
+for me: she does not know I love her--but I heard she had been
+murdered--that she was dead--"
+
+"Angela Sovrani!" cried Aubrey.
+
+Cyrillon bent his head as a devotee might at the shrine of a saint.
+
+"Yes--Angela Sovrani!"
+
+Aubrey looked at his handsome face glowing with enthusiasm, and saw the
+passion, the tenderness, the devotion of a life flashing in his fine
+eyes.
+
+"Love at first sight!" he said with a smile--"I believe it is the only
+true fire! A glance ought to be enough to express the recognition of
+one soul to its mate. Well! Angela Sovrani is a woman among ten
+thousand--the love of her alone is sufficient to make a man better and
+nobler in every way--and if you can win her--"
+
+"Ah, that is impossible! She is already affianced--"
+
+Aubrey took his arm.
+
+"Come with me, and I will tell you all I know," he said--"For there is
+much to say,--and when you have heard everything, you may not be
+altogether without hope."
+
+They turned, and went towards the Corso, which they presently entered,
+and where numbers of passers-by paused involuntarily to look at the two
+men who offered such a marked contrast to each other,--the one
+brown-haired and lithe, with dark, eager eyes,--the other with the slim
+well set up figure of an athlete, and the fair head of a Saxon king.
+And of the many who so looked after them, none guessed that the one was
+destined in a few years' time to create a silent and bloodless French
+Revolution, which should give back to France her white lilies of faith
+and chivalry,--or that the other was the upholder of such a perfect
+form of Christianity as should soon command the following of thousands
+in all parts of the world.
+
+And while they thus walked through the Roman crowd, the two women they
+severally loved were talking of them. In Angela's sick-room, softly
+shaded from the light, with a cheery wood fire burning, Sylvie sat by
+her friend, telling her all she could think of that would interest her,
+and rouse her from the deep gravity of mood in which she nearly always
+found her. The weary days of pain and illness had given Angela a
+strange, new beauty,--her face, delicate and pale, seemed transfigured
+by the working of the soul within,--and her eyes, tired as they were
+and often heavy with tears, had a serenity in their depths which was
+not of earth, but all of Heaven. She was able now to move from her bed,
+and lie on a couch near the fire,--and her little white hands moved
+caressingly and with loving care among the bunches of beautiful flowers
+which Sylvie had laid on her coverlet,--daffodils, anemones, narcissi,
+violets, jonquils, and all the sweet-scented flowers of early spring
+which come to Rome in December from the blossoming fields of Sicily.
+
+"How sweet they are!" she said with a half sigh,--"They almost make me
+in love with life again!"
+
+Sylvie said nothing, but only kissed her.
+
+"How good you are to me, dearest Sylvie!" she then said--"You deserve
+to be very happy!"
+
+"Not half so much as you do!" responded Sylvie tenderly--"I am of no
+use at all to the world; and you are! The world would not miss me a
+bit, but it would not find an Angela Sovrani again in a hurry!"
+
+Angela raised a cluster of narcissi and inhaled their fine and delicate
+perfume. There were tears in her eyes, but she hid them with a spray of
+the flowers.
+
+"Ah, Sylvie, you think too well of me! To be famous is nothing. To be
+loved is everything!"
+
+Sylvie looked at her earnestly.
+
+"You are loved," she said.
+
+"No, no!" she said--"No, I am not loved. I am hated! Hush, Sylvie!--do
+not say one word of what is in your mind, for I will not hear it!"
+
+She spoke agitatedly, and her cheeks flushed a sudden feverish red.
+
+Sylvie made haste to try and soothe her.
+
+"My darling girl, I would not say anything to vex you for the world!
+You must not excite yourself--"
+
+"I am not excited," said Angela, putting her arms round her friend and
+drawing her fair head down till it was half hidden against her own
+bosom--"No--but I must speak--bear with me for a minute, dear! We all
+have our dreams, we women, and I have had mine! I dreamt there was such
+a beautiful thing in the world as a great, unselfish love,--I fancied
+that a woman, if gifted with a little power and ability above the rest
+of her sex, could make the man she loved proud of her--not jealous!--I
+thought that a lover delighted in the attainments of his beloved--I
+thought there was nothing too high, too great, too glorious to attempt
+for the sake of proving oneself worthy to be loved! And now--I have
+found out the truth, Sylvie!--a bitter truth, but no doubt good for me
+to know,--that men will kill what they once caressed out of a mere
+grudge of the passing breath called Fame! Thus, Love is not what I
+dreamed it; and I, who was so foolishly glad to think that I was loved,
+have wakened up to know that I am hated!--hated to the very extremity
+of hate, for a poor gift of brair and hand which I wish--I wish I had
+never had!"
+
+Sylvie raised her head and gently put aside the weak trembling little
+hands that embraced her.
+
+"Angela, Angela! You must not scorn the gifts of the gods! No, No!--you
+will not let me say anything--you forbid me to express my thoughts
+fully, and I know you are not well enough to hear me yet--but one day
+you WILL know!--you will hear,--you will even be thankful for all the
+sorrow you have passed through,--and meanwhile, dear, dearest Angela,
+do not be ungrateful!"
+
+She said the word boldly yet hesitatingly, bending over the couch
+tenderly, her eyes full of light, and a smile on her lips. And taking
+up a knot of daffodils she swept their cool blossoms softly across
+Angela's burning forehead, murmuring--
+
+"Do not be ungrateful!"
+
+"Ungrateful--!" echoed Angela,--and she moved restlessly.
+
+"Yes, darling! Do not say you wish you never had received the great
+gifts God has given you. Do not judge of things by Sorrow's measurement
+only. I repeat--you ARE loved--though not perhaps where you most relied
+on love. Your father loves you--your uncle loves you--Manuel loves you
+. . ."
+
+Angela interrupted her with a protesting gesture.
+
+"Yes--I know," she murmured, "but--"
+
+"But you think all this love is worthless, as compared with a love that
+was no love at all?" said Sylvie. "There! We will not speak about it
+any more just now,--you are not strong, and you see things in their
+darkest light. Shall I talk to you about Aubrey?"
+
+"Ah! That is a subject you are never tired of!" said Angela with a
+faint smile. "Nor am I."
+
+"Well, you ought to be," answered Sylvie gaily, "for I am too blindly,
+hopelessly in love to know when to stop! I see nothing else and know
+nothing else--it is Aubrey, Aubrey all the time. The air, the sunlight,
+the whole world, seem only an admirable exposition of Aubrey!"
+
+"Then how would you feel if he did not love you any more?" asked Angela.
+
+"But that is not possible!" said Sylvie. "Aubrey could not change. It
+is not in him. He is not like our poor friend Fontenelle."
+
+"Ah! That love of yours was only fancy, Sylvie!"
+
+"We all have our fancies!" answered the pretty Comtesse, looking very
+earnestly into Angela's eyes. "We are not always sure that what we
+first call love is love. But I had much more than a fancy for the
+Marquis Fontenelle. If he had loved me--as I think he did at the
+last--I should certainly have married him. But during all the time I
+knew him he had a way of relegating all women to the same
+level--servants, actresses, ballet-dancers, and ladies alike,--he would
+never admit that there is as much difference between one woman and
+another as between one man and another. And this is a mistake many men
+make. Fontenelle wished to treat me as Miraudin would have treated his
+'leading lady';--he judged that quite sufficient for happiness. Now
+Aubrey treats me as his comrade,--his friend as well as his love, and
+that makes our confidence perfect. By the way, he spoke to me a great
+deal yesterday about the Abbe Vergniaud, and told me all he knew about
+his son Cyrillon."
+
+"Ah, the poor Abbe!" said Angela. "They are angry with him still at the
+Vatican--angry now with his dead body! But 'Gys Grandit' is not of the
+Catholic faith, so they can do nothing with him."
+
+"No. He is what they call a 'free-lance,'" said Sylvie. "And a
+wonderful personage he is! I You have seen him?"
+
+A faint colour crept over Angela's pale cheeks.
+
+"Yes. Once. Just once, in Paris, on the day his father publicly
+acknowledged him. But I wrote to him long before I knew who he realty
+was."
+
+"Angela! You wrote to him?"
+
+"Yes. I admired the writings of Gys Grandit--I used to buy all his
+books as they came out, and study them. I wrote to him--as many people
+will write to a favourite author--not in my own name of course--to
+express my admiration, and he answered. And so we corresponded for
+about two years, not knowing each other's identity till that scene in
+Paris brought us together--"
+
+"How VERY curious,--ve--ry!" said Sylvie, with a little mischievous
+smile. "And so you are quite friends?"
+
+"I think so--I believe so--" answered Angela--"but since we met, he has
+ceased to write to me."
+
+Sylvie made a mental note of that fact in her own mind, very much to
+the credit of "Gys Grandit," but said nothing further on the subject.
+Time was hastening on, and she had to return to the Casa D'Angeli to
+receive Monsignor Gherardi.
+
+"I am going to be lectured I suppose," she said laughingly. "I have not
+seen the worthy Domenico since my engagement to Aubrey was announced!"
+
+Angela looked at her intently.
+
+"Are you at all prepared for what he will say?"
+
+"Not in the least. What CAN he say?"
+
+"Much that may vex you," said Angela. "Considering Aubrey Leigh's
+theories, he may perhaps reproach you for your intended marriage--or he
+may bring you information of the Pope's objection."
+
+"Well! What of that?" demanded Sylvie.
+
+"But you are a devout Catholic--"
+
+"And you? With a great Cardinal for your uncle you paint 'The Coming of
+Christ'! Ah!--I have seen that picture, Angela!"
+
+"But I am different,--I am a worker, and I fear nothing," said Angela,
+her eyes beginning to shine with the latent force in her that was
+gradually resuming its dominion over her soul--"I thought long and
+deeply before I put my thought into shape--"
+
+"And _I_ thought long and deeply before I decided to be the companion
+of Aubrey's life and work!" said Sylvie resolutely. "And neither the
+Pope or a whole college of Cardinals will change my love or prevent my
+marriage. A riverderci!"
+
+"A riverderci!" echoed Angela, raising herself a little to receive the
+kiss her friend tenderly pressed on her cheeks. "I shall be anxious to
+know the result of your interview!"
+
+"I will come round early to-morrow and tell you all," promised Sylvie,
+"for I mean to find out, if I can, what happened at the Vatican when
+Cardinal Bonpre last went there with Manuel."
+
+"My uncle is most anxious to leave Rome," said Angela musingly.
+
+"I know. And if there is any plot against him he MUST leave Rome--he
+SHALL leave it! And we will help him!"
+
+With that she went her way, and an hour or so later stood, a perfect
+picture of grace and beauty, in the grand old rooms of the Casa
+D'Angeli, waiting to receive Gherardi. She had taken more than the
+usual pains with her toilette this afternoon, and had chosen to wear a
+"creation" of wonderful old lace, with knots of primrose and violet
+velvet caught here and there among its folds. It suited her small
+lissom figure to perfection, and her only ornaments were a cluster of
+fresh violets, and one ring sparkling on her left hand,--a star of rose
+brilliants and rubies, the sign of her betrothal.
+
+Punctual to the hour appointed, Gherardi arrived, and was at once shown
+into her presence. There was a touch of aggressiveness and irony in his
+manner as he entered with his usual slow and dignified step, and though
+he endeavoured to preserve that suavity and cold calmness for which he
+was usually admired and feared by women, his glance was impatient, and
+an occasional biting of his lips showed suppressed irritation. The
+first formal greetings over, he said--
+
+"I have wished for some time to call upon you, Contessa, but the
+pressure of affairs at the Vatican--"
+
+He stopped abruptly, looking at her. How provokingly pretty she
+was!--and how easily indifferent she seemed to the authoritative air he
+had chosen to assume.
+
+"I should, I know, long ere this have offered you my felicitations on
+your approaching marriage--"
+
+Sylvie smiled bewitchingly, and gave him a graceful curtsey.
+
+"Will you not sit down, Monsignor?" she then said. "We can talk more at
+our ease, do you not think?"
+
+She seated herself, with very much the air of a queen taking possession
+of a rightful throne, and Gherardi was vexedly aware that he had not by
+any means the full possession of his ordinary dignity or self-control.
+He took a chair opposite to her and sat for a moment perplexed as to
+his next move. Sylvie did not help him at all. Ruffling the violets
+among the lace at her neck, she looked at him attentively from under
+her long golden-brown lashes, but maintained a perfect silence.
+
+"The news has been received by the Holy Father with great pleasure," he
+said at last. "His special benediction will grace your wedding-day."
+
+Sylvie bent her head.
+
+"The Holy Father is most gracious!" she replied quietly. "And he is
+also more liberal than I imagined, if he is willing to bestow his
+special benediction on my marriage with one who is considered a heretic
+by the Church."
+
+He flashed a keen glance at her,--then forced a smile. "Mr. Leigh's
+heresy is of the past," he said--"We welcome him--with you--as one of
+us!"
+
+Sylvie was silent. He waited, inwardly cursing her tranquillity. Then,
+as she still did not speak, he went on in smooth accents-- "The Church
+pardons all who truly repent. She welcomes all who come to her in
+confidence, no matter how tardy or hesitating their approach. We shall
+receive the husband of our daughter Sylvie Hermenstein, with such joy
+as the prodigal son was in old time received--and of his past mistakes
+and follies there shall be neither word nor memory!"
+
+Then Sylvie looked up and fixed her deep blue eyes steadily upon him.
+
+"Caro Monsignor!" she said very sweetly. "Why talk all this nonsense to
+me? Do you not realise that as the betrothed wife of Aubrey Leigh I am
+past the Church counsel or command?"
+
+Gherardi still smiled.
+
+"Past Church counsel or command?" he murmured with an indulgent air, as
+though he were talking to a very small child. "Pardon me if I am at a
+loss to understand--"
+
+"Oh, you understand very well!" said Sylvie. "You know perfectly--or
+you should--that a wife's duty is to obey her husband,--and that in
+future HIS Church,--not yours,--must be hers also."
+
+"Surely you speak in riddles?" said Gherardi, preserving his suave
+equanimity. "Mr. Leigh is (or was) a would-be ardent reformer, but he
+has no real Church."
+
+"Then I have none!" replied Sylvie.
+
+There was a moment's silence. A black rage began to kindle in
+Gherardi's soul,--rage all the more intense because so closely
+suppressed.
+
+"I am still at a loss to follow you, Contessa," he said coldly. "Surely
+you do not mean to imply that your marriage will sever you from the
+Church of your fathers?"
+
+"Monsignor, marriage for me means an oath before God to take my husband
+for better or for worse, and to be true to him under all trial and
+circumstances," said Sylvie. "And I assuredly mean to keep that oath!
+Whatever his form of faith, I intend to follow it,--as I intend to obey
+his commands, whatever they may be, or wherever they may lead. For
+this, to me, is the only true love,--this to me, is the only possible
+'holy' estate of matrimony. And for the Church--a Church which does not
+hesitate to excommunicate a dying man, and persecute a good one,--I
+will leave the possibility of its wrath, together with all other
+consequences of my act--to God!"
+
+For one moment Gherardi felt that he could have sprung upon her and
+throttled her. The next, he had mastered himself sufficiently to
+speak,--this woman, so slight, so beautiful, so insolent should not
+baffle him, he resolved!--and bending his dark brows menacingly, he
+addressed her in his harshest and most peremptory manner.
+
+"You talk of God," he said, "as a child talks of the sun and moon, with
+as little meaning, and less comprehension! What impertinence it is for
+a woman like yourself,--vain, weak and worldly,--to assert your own
+will--your own thought and opinion--in the face of the Most High! What!
+YOU will desert the Church? YOU whose ancestors have for ages been
+devout servants of the faith? YOU, the last descendant of the Counts
+Hermenstein, a noble and loyal family, will degrade your birth by
+taking up with the rags and tags of humanity--the scarecrows of life?
+And by your sheer stupidity and obstinacy, you will allow your
+husband's soul to be dragged to perdition with your own! You call it
+love--to keep him an infidel? You call it marriage--to be united to him
+without the blessings of Holy Church? Where is your reason?--Where is
+your judgment?--Where your faith?"
+
+"Not in my bank, Monsignor!" replied Sylvie coldly. "Though that is the
+place where you would naturally expect to find these virtues
+manifested, and the potency of their working substantially proved!
+Pardon!--I have no wish to offend--but your manner to ME is offensive,
+and unless you are disposed to discuss this matter temperately, I must
+close our interview!"
+
+Gherardi flushed a dark red, then grew pale. After all, the Countess
+Hermenstein was in her own house,--she had the right to command his
+exit if she chose. Small and slight as she was, she had a dignity and
+power as great as his own, and if anything was to be gained from her it
+was necessary to temporize. Among many other qualifications for the
+part he had to play in life, he was an admirable actor, and would have
+made his fortune on the legitimate stage,--and this "quick change"
+ability served him in good stead now. He rose from his chair as though
+moved by uncontrollable agitation, and walked to the window, then
+turned again and came slowly and with bent head towards her.
+
+"Forgive me!" he said simply. "I was wrong!"
+
+Sylvie, easily moved to kindness, was touched by this apparent humility
+on the part of a man so renowned for unflinching hauteur, and she at
+once gave him her hand.
+
+"I shall forget your words!" she said gently. "So there is nothing to
+pardon."
+
+"Thank you for your generosity," he said, still standing before her and
+preserving his grave and quiet demeanour. "In my zeal for Holy Church,
+my tongue frequently outruns my prudence. I confess you have hurt
+me,--cruelly! You are a mere child to me--young, beautiful,
+beloved,--and I am growing old; I have sacrificed all the joys of life
+for the better serving of the faith--but I have kept a few fair
+dreams--and one of the fairest was my belief in YOU!"
+
+Sylvie looked at him searchingly, but his eyes did not flinch in
+meeting hers.
+
+"I am sorry you are disappointed, Monsignor," she began, when he raised
+his hand deprecatingly.
+
+"No--I am not disappointed as yet!" he said, with an affectation of
+great kindness. "Because I do not permit myself to believe that you
+will allow me to be disappointed! Just now you made a passing
+allusion--and I venture to say a hasty and unworthy one--to your
+'bank,' as if my whole soul were set on retaining you as a daughter of
+the Church for your great wealth's sake only! Contessa, you are
+mistaken! Give me credit for higher and nobler motives! Grant me the
+right to be a little better--a little more disinterested, than perhaps
+popular rumour describes me,--believe me to be at least your friend--"
+
+He paused--his voice apparently broken by emotion, and turning away his
+head he paced the room once more and finally sat down, covering his
+eyes with one hand, in an admirably posed attitude of fatigue and
+sorrow.
+
+Sylvie was perplexed, and somewhat embarrassed. She had never seen him
+in this kind of humour before. She was accustomed to a certain
+domineering authority in his language, rendered all the more difficult
+to endure by the sarcasm with which he sometimes embittered his words,
+as though he had dipped them in gall before pronouncing them,--but this
+apparent abandonment of reserve, this almost touching assumption of
+candour, were phases of his histrionical ability which he had never
+till now displayed in her presence.
+
+"Monsignor," she said after a little silence, "I sincerely ask your
+pardon if I have wronged you, even in a thought! I had no real
+intention of doing so, and if anything I have said has seemed to you
+unduly aggressive or unjust, I am sorry! But you yourself began to
+scold"--and she smiled--"and I am not in the humour to be scolded!
+Though, to speak quite frankly, I have always been more or less
+prepared for a little trouble on the subject of my intended marriage
+with Mr. Aubrey Leigh,--I have felt and known all along that it would
+incur the Pope's displeasure . . ."
+
+Here Gherardi uncovered his eyes and looked at her fully.
+
+"But there you are mistaken!" he said gently, with a smile that was
+almost paternal. "I know of nothing in recent years that has given the
+Holy Father greater satisfaction!"
+
+She glanced at him quickly but said nothing, whereat he was secretly
+annoyed. Why did she not express her wonder and delight at the Pope's
+lenity, as almost any other woman in her position would have done? Her
+outward appearance was that of child-like ultra-femininity,--how was it
+then that he felt as if she were mentally fencing with him, and that
+her intellectual sword-play threatened to surpass his own?
+
+"Nothing," he repeated suavely, "has given the Holy Father greater
+satisfaction! For very naturally, he looks upon you as one of his most
+faithful children, and rejoices that by the power of perfect love--love
+which is an emanation of the Divine Spirit in itself--you have been
+chosen by our Lord to draw so gifted and brilliant a man as Aubrey
+Leigh out of the error of his ways and bring him into the true fold!"
+
+
+
+
+XXXIV.
+
+Still the Countess Sylvie was silent. Bending a quick scrutinising
+glance upon her, he saw that her eyes were lowered, and that the
+violets nestling near her bosom moved restlessly with her quickened
+breath, and he judged these little signs of agitation as the favourable
+hints of a weakening and hesitating will.
+
+"Aubrey Leigh," he went on slowly, "has long been an avowed enemy of
+our Church. In England especially, where many of the Protestant clergy,
+repenting of their recusancy--for Protestantism is nothing more than a
+backsliding from the true faith--are desirous of gradually, through the
+gentler forms of Ritualism, returning to the Original source of Divine
+Inspiration, he has taken a great deal too much upon himself in the
+freedom of his speeches to the people. But we are bound to remember
+that it is not against OUR Church only that he has armed himself at all
+points, but seemingly against all Churches; and when we examine,
+charitably and with patience, into the sum and substance of his work
+and aim, we find its chief object is to purify and maintain--not to
+destroy or deny--the Divine teaching of Christ. In this desire we are
+one with him--we are even willing to assist him in the Cause he has
+espoused--and we shall faithfully promise to do so, when we receive him
+as your husband. Nay, more--we will endeavour to further his work among
+the poor, and carry out any scheme for their better care, which he may
+propose to us, and we may judge as devout and serviceable. The Church
+has wide arms,--she stretches far, and holds fast! The very fact of a
+man like Aubrey Leigh voluntarily choosing as his wife the last scion
+of one of the most staunch Roman Catholic families in Europe, proves
+the salutary and welcome change which your good influence has brought
+about in his heart and mind and manner and judgment,--wherefore it
+follows, my dear child, that in his marriage with you he becomes one of
+us, and is no longer outside us!"
+
+With a swift and graceful imperiousness, Sylvie suddenly rose and faced
+him.
+
+"It is time we understood each other, Monsignor," she said quietly. "It
+is no good playing at cross purposes! With every respect for you, I
+must speak plainly. I am fully aware of all you tell me respecting my
+descent and the traditions of my ancestors. I know that the former
+Counts Hermenstein were faithful servants of the Church. But they were
+all merely half-educated soldiers; brave, yet superstitious. I know
+also that my father, the late Count, was apparently equally loyal to
+the Church,--though really only so because it was too much trouble for
+him to think seriously about anything save hunting. But I--Sylvie--the
+last of the race, do not intend to be bound or commanded by the
+trammels of any Church, in the face of the great truths declared to the
+world to-day! My faith in God is as my betrothed husband's faith in
+God,--my heart is his,--my life is his! From henceforth we are
+together; and together we are content to go, after death, wherever God
+shall ordain, be it Hell or Heaven!"
+
+"Wait!" said Gherardi in low fierce accents, his eyes glittering with
+mingled rage and the admiration of her beauty which he could ill
+conceal. "Wait! If you care nothing for yourself in this matter, is it
+possible that you care nothing for him? Have you thought of the results
+of such rashness as you meditate? Listen!" and he leaned forward in his
+chair, his dark brows bent and his whole attitude expressive of a
+relentless malice--"Your marriage, without the blessing of the Church
+of your fathers, shall be declared illegal!--your children pronounced
+bastards! Wherever the ramifications of the Church are spread (and they
+are everywhere) you, the brilliant, the courted, the admired Sylvie
+Hermenstein, shall find yourself not only outside the Church, but
+outside all Society! You will be considered as 'living in sin';--as no
+true wife, but merely the mistress of the man with whom you have
+elected to wander the world! And he, when he sees the finger of scorn
+pointed at you and at his children, he also will change--as all men
+change when change is convenient or advantageous to themselves;--he
+will in time weary of his miserable Christian-Democratic theories,--and
+of you!--yes, even of you!" And Gherardi suddenly sprang up and drew
+nearer to her. "Even of YOU, I say! He will weary of your beauty--that
+delicate fine loveliness which makes me long to possess it!--me, a
+priest of the Mother-Church, whose heart is supposed to beat only for
+two things--Power and Revenge! Listen--listen yet a moment!" and he
+drew a step nearer, while Sylvie held her ground where she stood,
+unflinchingly, and like a queen, though she was pale to the very
+lips--"What of the friend you love so well, Angela Sovrani, who has
+dared to paint such a picture as should be burnt in the public
+market-place for its vile heresy! Do you think SHE will escape the
+wrath of the Church? Not she! We in our day use neither poison nor cold
+steel--but we know how to poison a name and stab a reputation! What!
+You shrink at that? Listen yet--listen a moment longer! And remember
+that nothing escapes the vigilant eye of Rome! At this very moment I
+can place my hand on Florian Varillo, concerning whom there is a rumour
+that he attempted the assassination of his betrothed wife,--an inhuman
+deed that no sane man could ever have perpetrated"--here Sylvie uttered
+a slight exclamation, and he paused, looking at her with a cold
+smile--"Yes, I repeat it!--a deed WHICH NO SANE MAN COULD HAVE
+PERPETRATED! The unfortunate, the deeply wronged Florian Varillo, is
+prepared to swear, and I AM PREPARED TO SWEAR WITH HIM, that he is
+guiltless of any such vile act or treachery--and also that he painted
+more than half of the great picture this woman Sovrani claims as her
+own work! Whilst strongly protesting against its heresy and begging her
+to alter certain figures in the canvas, still he gave her for love's
+sake, all his masculine ability. The blasphemous idea is hers--but the
+drawing, the colouring, the grouping, are HIS!"
+
+"He is a liar!" cried Sylvie passionately. "Let him prove his lie!"
+
+"He shall have every chance to prove it!" answered Gherardi calmly. "I
+will give him every chance! I will support what you call his lie! _I_
+SAY IT IS A TRUTH! No woman could have painted that picture! And mark
+you well--the mere discussion will be sufficient to kill the Sovrani's
+fame!"
+
+Heedless of his ecclesiastical dignity--reckless of everything
+concerning herself-Sylvie rushed up to him and laid one hand on his arm.
+
+"What! Are you a servant of Christ," she said half-whisperingly, "or a
+slave of the devil?"
+
+"Both," he answered, looking down upon her fair beauty with a wicked
+light shining in his eyes. "Both!" and he grasped the little soft hand
+that lay on his arm and held it as in a vice. "You are not wanting in
+courage, Contessa, to come so close to me!--to let me hold your hand!
+How pale you look! If you were like other women you would scream--or
+summon your servants, and create a scandal! You know better! You know
+that no scandal would ever be believed of a priest attached to the
+Court of Rome! Stay there--where you are--I will not hurt you! No--by
+all the raging fire of love for you in my heart, I will not touch more
+than this hand of yours! Good!--Now you are quite still--I say again,
+you have courage! Your eyes do not flinch--they look straight into
+mine--what brave eyes! You would search the very core of my intentions?
+You shall! Do you not think it enough for me--who am human though
+priest--to give you up to the possession of a man I hate!--A man who
+has insulted me! Is it not enough, I say, to immolate my own passion
+thus, without having to confront the possibility of your deserting that
+Church for whose sake I thus resign you? For had this Aubrey Leigh
+never met you, I would have MADE you mine! Still silent?--and your
+little hand still quiet in mine?--I envy you your nerve! You stand
+torture well, but I will not keep you on the rack too long! You shall
+know the worst at once--then you shall yourself judge the position. You
+shall prove for yourself the power of Rome! To escape that power you
+would have, as the Scripture says, to 'take the wings of the morning
+and fly into the uttermost parts of the sea.' Think well!--the fame and
+reputation of Angela Sovrani can be ruined at my command,--and equally,
+the sanctity and position of her uncle, Cardinal Bonpre!"
+
+With a sudden movement Sylvie wrenched her hand away from his, and
+stood at bay, her eyes flashing, her cheeks crimsoning.
+
+"Cardinal Bonpre!" she cried. "What evil have you in your mind against
+him? Are you so lost to every sense of common justice as to attempt to
+injure one who is greater than many of the Church's canonized saints in
+virtue and honesty? What has he done to you?"
+
+Gherardi smiled.
+
+"You excite yourself needlessly, Contessa," he said. "He has done
+nothing to me personally,--he is simply in my way. That is his sole
+offence! And whatever is in my way, I remove! Nothing is easier than to
+remove Cardinal Bonpre, for he has, by his very simplicity, fallen into
+a trap from which extrication will be difficult. He should have stopped
+in his career with the performance of his miracle at Rouen,--then all
+would have been well; he should not have gone on to Paris, there to
+condone the crime of the Abbe Vergniaud, and THEN come on to Rome. To
+come to Rome under such circumstances, was like putting his head in the
+wolf's mouth! But the most unfortunate thing he has done on his
+ill-fated journey, is to have played protector to that boy he has with
+him."
+
+"Why?" demanded Sylvie, growing pale as before she had been flushed.
+
+"Do not ask why!" said Gherardi. "For a true answer would only anger
+you. Suffice it for you to know that whatever is in the way of Rome
+must be removed,--SHALL be removed at all costs! Cardinal Bonpre, as I
+said before, is in the way--and unless he can account fully and frankly
+for his strange companionship with a mere child-wanderer picked out of
+the streets, he will lose his diocese. If he persists in denying all
+knowledge of the boy's origin he will lose his Cardinal's hat. There is
+nothing more to be said! But--there is one remedy for all this
+mischief--and it rests with YOU!"
+
+"With me?" Sylvie trembled,--her heart beat violently. She looked as
+though she were about to swoon, and Gherardi put out his arm to support
+her. She pushed him away indignantly.
+
+"Do not touch me!" she said, her sweet voice shaken with something like
+the weakness of tears. "You tempt me to kill you,--to kill you and rid
+the world of a human fiend!"
+
+His eyes flashed, and narrowed at the corners in the strange snake-like
+way habitual to them.
+
+"How beautiful you are!" he said indulgently, "There are some people in
+the world who do not admire slight little creatures like you, all fire
+and spirit enclosed in sweetness--and in their ignorance they escape
+much danger! For when a man stoops to pick up a small flower half
+hidden in the long grass, he does not expect it to half-madden him with
+its sweetness--or half-murder him by its sting! That is why you are
+irresistible to me, and to many. Yes--no doubt you would like to kill
+me, bella Contessa!--and many a man would like to be killed by you! If
+I were not Domenico Gherardi, servant of Mother-Church, I would
+willingly submit to death at your hands. But being what I am, I must
+live! And living, I must work--to fulfil the commands of the Church.
+And so faithful am I in the work of our Lord's vineyard, that I care
+not how many grapes I press in the making of His wine! I tell you
+plainly that it rests with you to save your friend Angela Sovrani, and
+the saintly Cardinal likewise. Keep to the vows you have sworn to Holy
+Church,--vows sworn for you in infancy at baptism, and renewed by
+yourself at your confirmation and first Communion,--bring your husband
+to Us! And Florian Varillo's mouth shall be closed--the Sovrani's
+reputation shall shine like the sun at noonday; even the rank heresy of
+her picture shall be forgiven, and the Cardinal and his waif shall go
+free!"
+
+Sylvie clasped her hands passionately together and raised them in an
+attitude of entreaty.
+
+"Oh, why are you so cruel!" she cried. "Why do you demand from me what
+you know to be impossible?"
+
+"It is not impossible," answered Gherardi, watching her closely as he
+spoke. "The Church is lenient,--she demands nothing in haste--nothing
+unreasonable! I do not even ask you to bring about Aubrey Leigh's
+conversion before your marriage. You are free to wed him in your own
+way and in his,--provided that one ceremonial of the marriage takes
+place according to our Catholic rites. But after you are thus wedded,
+you must promise to bring him to Us!--you must further promise that any
+children born of your union be baptized in the Catholic faith. With
+such a pledge from you, in writing, I will be satisfied;--and out of
+all the entanglements and confusion at present existing, your friends
+shall escape unharmed. I swear it!"
+
+He raised his hand with a lofty gesture, as though he were asserting
+the truth and grandeur of some specially noble cause. Sylvie, letting
+her clasped hands drop asunder with a movement of despair, stood gazing
+at him in fascinated horror.
+
+"The Church!" he went on, warming with his own inward fervour. "The
+Rock, on which our Lord builds the real fabric of the Universe!" And
+his tall form dilated with the utterance of his blasphemy. "The
+learning, the science, the theoretical discussions of men, shall pass
+as dust blown by the breath of a storm-wind--but the Church shall
+remain, the same, yesterday, to-day and forever! It shall crush down
+kings, governments and nations in its unmoving Majesty! The fluctuating
+wisdom of authors and reformers--the struggle of conflicting
+creeds--all these shall sink and die under the silent inflexibility of
+its authority! The whole world hurled against it shall not prevail, and
+were all its enemies to perish by the sword, by poison, by disease, by
+imprisonment, by stripes and torture, this would be but even justice!
+'For many are called--but few are chosen.'"
+
+He turned his eyes, flashing with a sort of fierce ecstasy, upon the
+slight half-shrinking figure of Sylvie opposite to him. "Yes, bella
+Contessa! What the Church ordains, must be; what the Church desires,
+that same the Church will have! There is no room in the hearts or minds
+of its servants for love, for pity, for pardon, for anything human
+merely,--its authority is Divine!--and 'God will not be mocked'!
+Humanity is the mere food and wine of sacrifice to the Church's
+doctrine,--nations may starve, but the Church must be fed. What are
+nations to the Church? Naught but children,--docile or
+rebellious;--children to be whipped, and coerced, and FORCED to obey!
+Thus for you, one unit out of the whole mass, to oppose yourself to the
+mighty force of Rome, is as though one daisy out of the millions in the
+grass should protest against the sweep of the mower's scythe! You do
+not know me yet! There is nothing I would hesitate to do in the service
+of the Church. I would consent to ruin even YOU, to prove the fire of
+my zeal, as well as the fire of my love!"
+
+He made a step towards her,--she drew herself to the utmost reach of
+her elfin height, and looked at him straightly. Pale, but with her dark
+blue eyes flashing like jewels, she in one sweeping glance, measured
+him with a scorn so intense that it seemed to radiate from her entire
+person, and pierce him with a thousand arrowy shafts of flame.
+
+"You have stated your intentions," she said. "Will you hear my answer?"
+
+He bent his head gravely, with a kind of ironical tolerance in his
+manner.
+
+"There is nothing I desire more!" he replied, "for I am sure that in
+the unselfish sweetness of your nature you will do all you can to
+serve--and save--your friends!"
+
+"You are right!" she said, controlling the quickness of her breathing,
+and forcing herself to speak calmly. "I will! But not in your way! Not
+at your command! You have enlightened me on many points of which I was
+hitherto ignorant--and for this I thank you! You have taught me that
+the Church, instead of being a brotherhood united in the Divine service
+of Christ, who was God-in-Man, is a mere secular system of avarice and
+tyranny! You pretend to save souls for God! What do you care for MY
+soul! You would have me wed a man with fraud in my heart,--with the
+secret intent to push upon him the claims of a Church he abhors,--and
+this after he has made me his wife! You would have me tell lies to him
+before the Eternal! And you call that the way to salvation? No,
+Monsignor! It is the wealth of the Hermensteins you desire!--not the
+immortal rescue or heavenly benefit of the last of their children! You
+will support the murderer Varillo in his lie to ruin an innocent
+woman's reputation! You would destroy the honour and peace of an old
+man's life for the sake of furthering your own private interests and
+grudges! And you call yourself a servant of Christ! Monsignor, if you
+are a servant of Christ, then the Church you serve must be the shadow
+of a future hell!--not the promise of a future heaven! I denounce
+it,--I deny it!--I swear by the Holy Name of our Redeemer that I am a
+Christian!--not a slave of the Church of Rome!"
+
+Such passion thrilled her, such high exaltation, that she looked like
+an inspired angel in her beauty and courage, and Gherardi, smothering a
+fierce oath, made one stride towards her and seized her hands.
+
+"You defy me!" he said in a hoarse whisper. "You dare me to my worst?"
+
+She looked up at his dark cruel face, his glittering eyes, and
+shuddered as with icy cold,--but the spirit in that delicate little
+body of hers was strong as steel, and tempered to the grandest issues.
+
+"I dare you to do your worst!" she said, half-sobbingly,--half-closing
+her eyes in the nervous terror she could not altogether control. "You
+can but kill me--I shall die true!"
+
+With a sort of savage cry, Gherardi snatched her round the waist, but
+scarcely had he done so when he was flung aside with a force that made
+him reel back heavily against the wall, and Aubrey Leigh confronted him.
+
+"Aubrey!" cried Sylvie. "Oh, Aubrey!"
+
+He caught her as she sprang to him, and held her fast,--and with
+perfect self-possession he eyed the priest disdainfully up and down.
+
+"So this," he said coldly, "is the way the followers of Saint Peter
+fulfil the commands of Christ! Or shall we say this is the way in which
+they go on denying their Master? It is a strange way of retaining
+disciples,--a still stranger way of making converts! A brave way too,
+to intimidate a woman!"
+
+Gherardi, recovering from the shock of Aubrey's blow, drew himself up
+haughtily.
+
+"I serve the Church, Mr. Leigh!" he said proudly. "And in that high
+service all means are permitted to us for a righteous end!"
+
+"Ah!--the old Jesuitical hypocrisy!" And Aubrey smiled bitterly. "Lies
+are permitted in the Cause of Truth! One word, Monsignor! I have no
+wish to play at any game of double-dealing with you. I have heard the
+whole of your interview with this lady. It is the first time I have
+ever played the eavesdropper--but my duty was to protect my promised
+wife, if she needed protection--and I thought it was possible she might
+need it--from YOU!"
+
+Gherardi turned a livid paleness, and drew a quick breath.
+
+"I know your moves," went on Aubrey quietly, "and it will be my
+business as well as my pleasure to frustrate them. Moreover, I shall
+give your plot into the care of the public press--"
+
+"You will not dare!" cried Gherardi fiercely. "But--after all, what
+matter if you do!--no one will believe you!"
+
+"Not in Rome, perhaps," returned Aubrey coolly. "But in England,--in
+America,--things are different. There are many honest men who dislike
+to contemplate even a distant vision of the talons of Rome hovering
+over us--we look upon such mischief as a sign of decay,--for only where
+the carcasses of nations lie, does the vulture hover! We are not dead
+yet! And now, Monsignor,--as your interview with the Countess is
+ended--an interview to which I have been a witness--may I suggest the
+removal of your presence? You have made a proposition--she has rejected
+it--the matter is ended!"
+
+Civilly calm and cold he stood, holding Sylvie close to him with one
+embracing arm, and Gherardi, looking at the two together thus,
+impotently wished that the heavy sculptured and painted ceiling above
+them might fall and crush them into a pulp before him. No shame, no
+sense of compunction moved him,--if anything, he raised his head more
+haughtily than before.
+
+"Aubrey Leigh," he said, "Socialist, reformer, revolutionist--whatever
+you choose to call yourself!--you have all the insolence of your race
+and class,--and it is beneath my dignity to argue with you. But you
+will rue the day you ever crossed my path! Not one thing have I
+threatened, that shall not be performed! This unhappy lady whose mind
+has been perverted from Holy Church by your heretical teachings, shall
+be excommunicated. Henceforth we look upon her as a child of sin, and
+we shall publicly declare her marriage with you illegal. The rest can
+be left with confidence, to--Society!"
+
+And with a dark smile which made his face look like that of some
+malignant demon, he turned, and preserving his proud inflexibility of
+demeanour, without another look or gesture, left the apartment.
+
+Then Aubrey, alone with his love, drew her closer, and lifted her fair
+face to his own, looking at it with passionate tenderness and
+admiration.
+
+"You brave soul!" he said. "You true woman! You angel of the covenant
+of love! How shall I ever tell you how I worship you--how I revere
+you--for your truth and courage!"
+
+She trembled under the ardour of his utterance, and her eyes filled
+with tears.
+
+"I was not afraid!" she said. "I should have called Katrine,--only I
+knew that if I once did so, she also would be involved, and he would be
+unscrupulous enough to ruin my name with a few words in order to defend
+himself from all suspicion. But you, Aubrey?--how did it happen that
+you were here?"
+
+"I was here from the first!" he replied triumphantly. "I followed on
+Gherardi's very heels. Your Arab boy admitted me--he was in my secret.
+He showed me into the anteroom just outside, where by leaving a corner
+of the door ajar I could see and hear everything. And I listened to
+your every word! I saw every bright flash of the strong soul in your
+brave eyes! And now those eyes question me, sweetheart,--almost
+reproachfully they seem to ask me why I did not interfere between you
+and Gherardi before? Ah, but you must forgive me for the delay! I
+wanted to drink all my cup of nectar to the dregs--I could not lose one
+drop of such sweetness! To see you, slight fragile blossom of a woman,
+matching your truth and courage against the treachery and malice of the
+most unscrupulous priestly tool ever employed by the Vatican, was a
+sight to make me strong for all my days!" He kissed her passionately.
+"My love! My wife! How can I ever thank you!"
+
+She raised her sweet eyes wonderingly.
+
+"Did you doubt me, Aubrey?" "No! I never doubted you. But I wondered
+whether your force would hold out, whether you might not be
+intimidated, whether you might not temporize, which would have been
+natural enough--whether you might not have used some little social art
+or grace to cover up and disguise the absoluteness of your resolve--but
+no! You were a heroine in the fight, and you gave your blows straight
+from the hilt, without flinching. You have made me twice a man, Sylvie!
+With you beside me I shall win all I might otherwise have lost, and I
+thank God for you, dear!--I thank God for you!"
+
+He drew her close again into his arms, pressing her to his heart which
+beat tumultously with its deep rejoicing,--no fear now that they two
+would ever cease to be one! No danger now of those miserable so-called
+"religious" disputes between husband and wife, which are so eminently
+anti-Christian, and which make many a home a hell upon earth,--disputes
+which young children sometimes have to witness from their earliest
+years, when the mother talks "at" the father for not going to Church,
+or the father sneers at the mother for being "a rank Papist"! Nothing
+now, but absolute union in spirit and thought, in soul and
+intention--the rarest union that can be consummated between man and
+woman, and yet the only one that can engender perfect peace and
+unchanging happiness.
+
+And presently the lovers' trance of joy gave way to thought for others;
+to a realization of the dangers hovering over the good Cardinal, and
+the already ill-fated Angela Sovrani, and Aubrey, raising the golden
+head that nestled against his breast, kissed the sweet lips once more
+and said--
+
+"Now, my Sylvie, we must take the law into our own hands! We must do
+all we can to save our friends. The Cardinal must be thought of first.
+If we are not quick to the rescue he will be sent 'into retreat,' which
+can be translated as forced detention, otherwise imprisonment. He must
+leave Rome to-night. Now listen!"
+
+And sitting down beside her, still holding her hand, he gave her an
+account of his meeting with Cyrillon Vergniaud, otherwise "Gys
+Grandit," and told her of the sudden passion for Angela that had fired
+the soul of that fiery writer of the fiercest polemics against
+priestcraft that had as yet startled France.
+
+"Knowing now all the intended machinations of Gherardi," continued
+Aubrey, "what I suggest is this,--that you, my Sylvie, should confide
+in the Princesse D'Agramont, who is fortunately for us, an enemy of the
+Vatican. Arrange with her that she persuades Angela to return under her
+escort at once to Paris. Angela is well enough to travel if great care
+be taken of her, and the Princesse will not spare that. Cyrillon can go
+with them--I should think that might be managed?"
+
+He smiled as he put this question. Sylvie smiled in answer and replied
+demurely--
+
+"I should think so!"
+
+"But the Cardinal," resumed Aubrey, "and--and Manuel--must go to-night.
+I will see Prince Sovrani and arrange it. And Sylvie--will you marry me
+to-morrow morning?"
+
+Her eyes opened wide and she laughed.
+
+"Why yes, if you wish it!" she said. "But--so soon?"
+
+"Darling, the sooner the better! I mean to take every possible method
+of making our marriage binding in the sight of the world, before the
+Vatican has time to launch its thunders. If you are willing, we can be
+married at the American Consulate to-morrow morning. You must remember
+that though born of British parents, I do not resign my American
+citizenship, and would not forego being of the New World for all the
+old worlds ever made! The American Consul knows me well, and he will
+begin to make things legal for us to-morrow if you are ready."
+
+"BEGIN to make things legal?" echoed Sylvie smiling. "Will he do no
+more than begin?"
+
+"My sweetheart, he cannot. He will make you mine according to American
+law. In England, you will again be made mine according to English law.
+And then afterwards we will have our religious ceremony!"
+
+Sylvie looked at him perplexedly, then gave a pretty gesture of playful
+resignation.
+
+"Let everything be as you wish and decide, Aubrey," she said." I give
+my life and love to you, and have no other will but yours!"
+
+He kissed her.
+
+"I accept the submission, only to put myself more thoroughly at your
+command," he said tenderly,--"You are my queen,--but with powerful
+enemies against us, I must see that you are rightfully enthroned!"
+
+A few minutes' more conversation,--then a hurried consultation with
+Madame Bozier, and Sylvie, changing her lace gown for a simple
+travelling dress, walked out of the Casa D'Angeli with the faithful
+Katrine, and taking the first carriage she could find, was driven to
+the Palazzo where the Princesse D'Agramont had her apartments. Allowing
+from ten to fifteen minutes to elapse after her departure, Aubrey Leigh
+himself went out, and standing on the steps of the house, looked up and
+down carelessly, drawing on his gloves and humming a tune. His quick
+glance soon espied what he had been almost certain he should see,
+namely, the straight black-garmented figure of a priest, walking slowly
+along the street on the opposite side, his hands clasped behind his
+back, and his whole aspect indicative of devout meditation.
+
+"I thought so!" said Aubrey to himself. "A spy set on already! No time
+to lose--Cardinal Bonpre must leave Rome at nightfall."
+
+Leisurely he crossed the road, and walking with as slow a step as the
+priest he had noticed, came opposite to him face to face. With
+impenetrable solemnity the holy man meekly moved aside,--with equally
+impenetrable coolness, Aubrey eyed him up and down, then the two passed
+each other, and Aubrey walked with the same unhasting pace, to the end
+of the street,--then turned--to see that the priest had paused in his
+holy musings to crane his neck after him and watch him with the most
+eager scrutiny. He did not therefore take a carriage at the moment he
+intended, but walked on into the Corso,--there he sprang into a fiacre
+and drove straight to the Sovrani Palace. The first figure he saw
+there, strolling about in the front of the building, was another
+priest, absorbed in apparently profound thoughts on the sublimity of
+the sunset, which was just then casting its red glow over the Eternal
+City. And with the appearance of this second emissary of the Vatican
+police, he realised the full significance of the existing position of
+affairs.
+
+Without a moment's loss of time he was ushered into the presence of the
+Cardinal, and there for a moment stood silent on the threshold of the
+apartment, overcome by the noble aspect of the venerable prelate, who,
+seated in his great oaken chair, was listening to a part of the Gospel
+of Saint Luke, read aloud in clear sweet accents by Manuel.
+
+"A good man out of the good treasure of his heart bringeth forth that
+which is good; and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart
+bringeth forth that which is evil; for of the abundance of the heart
+his mouth speaketh.
+
+"And why call ye me, Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say?
+
+"Whosoever cometh to me, and heareth my sayings, and doeth them, I will
+show you to whom he is like:
+
+"He is like a man which built an house, and digged deep, and laid the
+foundation on a rock: and when the flood arose, the stream beat
+vehemently upon that house, and could not shake it: for it was founded
+upon a rock.
+
+"But he that heareth, and doeth not, is like a man that without a
+foundation built an house upon the earth; against which the stream did
+beat vehemently, and immediately it fell; AND THE RUIN OF THAT HOUSE
+WAS GREAT."
+
+And emphasizing the last line, Manuel closed the book; then at a kindly
+beckoning gesture from the Cardinal, Aubrey advanced into the room,
+bowing with deep reverence and honour over the worn old hand the
+prelate extended.
+
+"My lord Cardinal," he said without further preface, "you must leave
+Rome to-night!"
+
+The Cardinal raised his gentle blue eyes in wondering protest.
+
+"By whose order?"
+
+"Surely by your own Master's will," said Aubrey with deep earnestness.
+"For he would not have you be a victim to treachery!"
+
+"Treachery!" And the Cardinal smiled. "My son, traitors harm themselves
+more than those they would betray. Treachery cannot touch me!"
+
+Aubrey came a step nearer.
+
+"Monsignor, if you do not care for yourself you will care for the boy,"
+he said in a lower tone, with a glance at Manuel, who had withdrawn,
+and was now standing at one of the windows, the light of the sunset
+appearing to brighten itself in his fair hair. "He will be separated
+from you!"
+
+At this the Cardinal rose up, his whole form instinct with resolution
+and dignity.
+
+"They cannot separate us against the boy's will or mine," he said.
+"Manuel!"
+
+Manuel came to his call, and the Cardinal placed one hand on his
+shoulder.
+
+"Child," he said softly, "they threaten to part me from you, if we stay
+longer here. Therefore we must leave Rome!"
+
+Manuel looked up with a bright flashing glance of tenderness.
+
+"Yes, dear friend, we must leave Rome!" he said. "Rome is no place for
+you--or for me!"
+
+There was a moment's silence. Something in the attitude of the old man
+and the young boy standing side by side, moved Aubrey deeply; a sense
+of awe as well as love overwhelmed him at the sight of these two
+beings, so pure in mind, so gentle of heart, and so widely removed in
+years and in life,--the one a priest of the Church, the other a waif of
+the streets, yet drawn together as it seemed, by the simple spirit of
+Christ's teaching, in an almost supernatural bond of union. Recovering
+himself presently he said,
+
+"To-night then, Monsignor?"
+
+The Cardinal looked at Manuel, who answered for him.
+
+"Yes, to-night! We will be ready! For the days are close upon the time
+when the birth of Christ was announced to a world that does not yet
+believe in Him! It will be well to leave Rome before then! For the
+riches of the Pope's palace have nothing to do with the poor babe born
+in a manger,--and the curse of the Vatican would be a discord in the
+angels' singing--'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth PEACE,
+GOODWILL TOWARDS MEN'!"
+
+His young voice rang out, silver clear and sweet, and Aubrey gazed at
+him in wondering silence.
+
+"To-night!" repeated Manuel, smiling and stretching out his hand with a
+gentle authoritative gesture. "To-night the Cardinal will leave Rome,
+and _I_ will leave it too--perchance for ever!"
+
+
+
+
+XXXV.
+
+During these various changes in the lives of those with whom he had
+been more or less connected, Florian Varillo lay between life and death
+in the shelter of a Trappist monastery on the Campagna. When he had
+been seized by the delirium and fever which had flung him, first
+convulsed and quivering, and then totally insensible, at the foot of
+the grim, world-forgotten men who passed the midnight hours in digging
+their own graves, he had been judged by them as dying or dead, and had
+been carried into a sort of mortuary chapel, cold and bare, and lit
+only by the silver moonbeams and the flicker of a torch one of the
+monks carried. Waking in this ghastly place, too weak to struggle, he
+fell a-moaning like a tortured child, and was, on showing this sign of
+life, straight-way removed to one of the cells. Here, after hours of
+horrible suffering, of visions more hideous than Dante's Hell, of
+stupors and struggles, of fits of strong shrieking, followed by weak
+tears, he woke one afternoon calm and coherent,--to find himself lying
+on a straight pallet bed in a narrow stone chamber, dimly lighted by a
+small slit of window, through which a beam of the sun fell aslant,
+illumining the blood-stained features of a ghastly Christ stretched on
+a black crucifix directly opposite him. He shuddered as he saw this,
+and half-closed his eyes with a deep sigh.
+
+"Tired--tired!" said a thin clear voice beside him. "Always tired! It
+is only God who is never weary!"
+
+Varillo opened his eyes again languidly, and turned them on a monk
+sitting beside him,--a monk whose face was neither old nor young, but
+which presented a singular combination of both qualities. His high
+forehead, white as marble, had no furrows to mar its smoothness, and
+from under deep brows a pair of wondering wistful brown eyes peered
+like the eyes of a lost and starving child. The cheeks were gaunt and
+livid, the flesh hanging in loose hollows from the high and prominent
+bones, yet the mouth was that of a youth, firm, well-outlined and sweet
+in expression, and when he smiled as he did now, he showed an even row
+of small pearly teeth which might have been envied by many a fair woman.
+
+"Only God who is never weary!" he said, nodding his head slowly, "but
+we--you and I--we are soon tired!"
+
+Varillo looked at him dubiously; and a moment's thought decided him to
+assume a certain amount of meekness and docility with this evident
+brother of some religious order, so that he might obtain both sympathy
+and confidence from him, and from all whom he might be bound to serve.
+Ill and weak as he was, the natural tendency of his brain to scheme for
+his own advantage, was not as yet impaired.
+
+"Ah, yes!" he sighed, "I am very tired!--very ill! I do not know what
+has happened to me--nor even where I am. What place is this?"
+
+"It is a place where the dead come!" responded the monk. "The dead in
+heart! the dead in soul--the dead in sin! They come to bury themselves,
+lest God should find them and crush them into dust before they have
+time to say a prayer! Like Adam and his wife, they hide themselves
+'from the presence of the Lord among the trees of the garden.'"
+
+Varillo raised himself on one elbow, and stared at the pale face and
+smiling mouth of the speaker in fear and wonder.
+
+"'A place where the dead come!'" he echoed. "But you are alive--and so
+am I!"
+
+"You may be--I am not," said the monk quietly. "I died long ago! People
+who are alive say we are men, though we know ourselves to be ghosts
+merely. This place is called by the world a Trappist monastery,--you
+will go out of it if indeed you are alive--you must prove that first!
+But we shall never come out, because we are dead. One never comes out
+of the grave!"
+
+With an effort Varillo tried to control the tremor of his nerves, and
+to understand and reason out these enigmatical sentences of his
+companion. He began to think--and then to remember,--and by and by was
+able to conjure up the picture of himself as he had last been conscious
+of existence,--himself standing outside the gates of a great building
+on the Campagna, and shaking the iron bars to and fro. It was a
+Trappist monastery then?--and he was being taken charge of by the
+Trappist Order? This fact might possibly be turned to his account if he
+were careful. He lay down once more on his pillow and closed his eyes,
+and under this pretence of sleep, pondered his position. What were they
+saying of him in Rome? Was Angela buried? And her great picture? What
+had become of it?
+
+"How long have I been here?" he asked suddenly.
+
+The monk gave a curious deprecatory gesture with his hands.
+
+"Since you died! So long have you been dead!"
+
+Varillo surveyed him with a touch of scorn.
+
+"You talk in parables--like your Master!" he said with a feeble attempt
+at a laugh. "I am not strong enough to understand you! And if you are a
+Trappist monk, why do you talk at all? I thought one of your rules was
+perpetual silence?"
+
+"Silence? Yes--everyone is silent but me!" said the monk--"I may
+talk--because I am only Ambrosio,--mad Ambrosio!--something wrong
+here!" And he touched his forehead. "A little teasing demon lives
+always behind my eyes, piercing my brain with darts of fire. And he
+obliges me to talk; he makes me say things I should not--and for all
+the mischief he works upon me I wear this--see!"--And springing up
+suddenly he threw aside the folds of his garment, and displayed his
+bare chest, over which a coarse rope was crossed and knotted so
+tightly, that the blood was oozing from the broken flesh on either side
+of it. "For every word I say, I bleed!"
+
+Varillo gave a nervous cry and covered his eyes.
+
+"Do not be afraid!" said Ambrosio, drawing his robe together again, "It
+is only flesh--not spirit--that is wounded! Flesh is our great
+snare,--it persuades us to eat, to sleep, to laugh, to love--the spirit
+commands none of these things. The spirit is of God--it wants neither
+food nor rest,--it is pure and calm,--it would escape to Heaven if the
+flesh did not cramp its wings!"
+
+Varillo took his hand from his eyes and tossed himself back on his
+pillow with a petulant moan.
+
+"Can they do nothing better for me than this?" he ejaculated. "To place
+me here in this wretched cell alone with a madman!"
+
+Ambrosio stood by the pallet bed looking down upon him with a sort of
+child-like curiosity.
+
+"No better than this?" he echoed. "Would you have anything better?
+Safe--safe from the world,--no one can find you or follow you--no one
+can discover your sin--"
+
+"Sin! What sin!" demanded Varillo fiercely. "You talk like a fool--as
+you own yourself to be! I have committed no sin!"
+
+"Good--good!" said Ambrosio. "Then you must be canonized with all the
+rest of the saints! And St. Peter's shall be illuminated, and the Pope
+shall be carried in to see you and to lay his hands upon you, and they
+shall shout to him, 'Tu es Petrus!' and no one will remember what kind
+of a bruised, bleeding, tortured, broken-down Head of the Church stood
+before the multitude when Pilate cried 'Ecce homo!'"
+
+Varillo stared at him in unwilling fascination. He seemed carried
+beyond himself,--it was as though some other force spoke through him,
+and though he scarcely raised his voice, its tone was so clear,
+musical, and penetrative that it seemed to give light and warmth to the
+cold dullness of the cell.
+
+"You must not mind me!" he went on softly, "My thoughts have all gone
+wrong, they tell me,--so have my words. I was young once--and in that
+time I used to study hard and try to understand what it was that God
+wished me to do with my life. But there were so many things--so much
+confusion--so much difficulty--and the end is--here!" He smiled. "Well!
+It is a quiet end,--they say the devil knocks at the gate of the
+monastery often at midnight, but he never enters in,--never--unless
+perchance you are he!"
+
+Varillo turned himself about pettishly.
+
+"If I were he, I should not trouble you long," he said. "Even the devil
+might be glad to make exit from such a hole as this! Who is your
+Superior?"
+
+"We have only one Superior,--God!" replied Ambrosio. "He who never
+slumbers or sleeps--He who troubles Himself to look into everything,
+from the cup of a flower to the heart of a man! Who shall escape the
+lightning of His glance, or think to cover up a hidden vileness from
+the discovery of the Most High?"
+
+"I did not ask you for pious jargon," said Varillo, beginning to lose
+temper, yet too physically weak to contend with the wordy vagaries of
+this singular personage who had evidently been told off to attend upon
+him. "I asked you who is the Head or Ruler of this community? Who gives
+you the daily rule of conduct which you all obey?"
+
+Ambrosio's brown eyes grew puzzled, and he shook his head.
+
+"I obey no one," he said. "I am mad Ambrosio!--I walk about in my
+grave, and speak, and sing, while others remain silent. I would tell
+you if I knew of anyone greater than God,--but I do not!"
+
+Varillo uttered an impatient groan. It was no good asking this creature
+anything,--his answers were all wide of the mark.
+
+"God," went on Ambrosio, turning his head towards the light that came
+streaming in through the narrow window of the cell, "is in that
+sunbeam! He can enter where He will, and we never know when we shall
+meet Him face to face! He may possess with His spirit the chaste body
+of a woman, as in our Blessed Lady,--or He may come to us in the form
+of a child, speaking to the doctors in the temple and arguing with them
+on the questions of life and death. He is in all things; and the very
+beggar at our gates who makes trial of our charity, may for all we
+know, be our Lord disguised! Shall I tell you a strange story?"
+
+Varillo gave a weary sign of assent, half closing his eyes. It was
+better this crazed fool should talk, he thought, than that he should
+lie there and listen, as it were, to the deadly silence which in the
+pauses of the conversation could be felt, like the brooding heaviness
+of a thick cloud hanging over the monastery walls.
+
+"It happened long ago," said Ambrosio. "There was a powerful prince who
+thought that to be rich and strong was sufficient to make all the world
+his own. But the world belongs to God,--and He does not always give it
+over to the robber and spoiler. This prince I tell you of, had been the
+lover of a noble lady, but he was false-hearted; and the false soon
+grow weary of love! And so, tiring of her beauty and her goodness, he
+stabbed her mortally to death, and thought no one had seen him do the
+deed. For the only witness to it was a ray of moonlight falling through
+the window--just as the sunlight falls now!--see!" And he pointed to
+the narrow aperture which lit the cell, while Florian Varillo,
+shuddering in spite of himself, lay motionless. "But when the victim
+was dead, this very ray of moonlight turned to the shape of a great
+angel, and the angel wore the semblance of our Lord,--and the glory and
+the wonder of that vision was as the lightning to slay and utterly
+destroy! And from that hour for many years, the murderer was followed
+by a ray of light, which never left him; all day he saw it flickering
+in his path,--all night it flashed across his bed, driving sleep from
+his eyes and rest from his brain!--till at last maddened by remorse he
+confessed his crime to a priest, and was taken into a grave like this,
+a monastery,--where he died, so they say, penitent. But whether he was
+forgiven, the story does not say!"
+
+"It is a stupid story!" said Varillo, opening his eyes, and smiling in
+the clear, candid way he always assumed when he had anything to hide.
+"It has neither point nor meaning."
+
+"You think not?" said Ambrosio. "But perhaps you are not conscious of
+God. If you were, that sunbeam we see now should make you careful, lest
+an angel should be in it!"
+
+"Careful? Why should I be careful?" Varillo half raised himself on the
+bed. "I have nothing to hide!"
+
+At this Ambrosio began to laugh.
+
+"Oh, you are happy--happy!" he exclaimed. "You are the first I ever
+heard say that! Nothing to hide! Oh, fortunate, fortunate man! Then
+indeed you should not be here--for we all have something to hide, and
+we are afraid even of the light,--that is why we make such narrow holes
+for it; we are always praying God not to look at our sins,--not to
+uncover them and show us what vile souls we are--we men who could be as
+gods in life, if we did not choose to be devils--"
+
+Here he suddenly broke off, and a curious grey rigidity stole over his
+features, as if some invisible hand were turning him into stone. His
+eyes sparkled feverishly, but otherwise his face was the lace of the
+dead. The horrible fixity of his aspect at that moment, so terrified
+Varillo that he gave a loud cry, and almost before he knew he had
+uttered it, another monk entered the cell. Varillo gazed at him
+affrightedly, and pointed to Ambrosio. The monk said nothing, but
+merely took the rigid figure by its arm and shook it violently. Then,
+as suddenly as he had lost speech and motion, Ambrosio recovered both,
+and went on talking evenly, taking up the sentence he had broken
+off--"If we did not choose to be as devils, we might be as gods!" Then
+looking around him with a smile, he added, "Now you are here, Filippo,
+you will explain!"
+
+The monk addressed as Filippo remained silent, still holding him by the
+arm, and presently quietly guiding him, led him out of the cell. When
+the two brethren had disappeared, Varillo fell back on his pillows
+exhausted.
+
+"What am I to do now?" he thought. "I must have been here many
+days!--all Rome must know of Angela's death--all Rome must wonder at my
+absence--all Rome perhaps suspects me of being her murderer! And
+yet--this illness may be turned to some account. I can say that it was
+caused by grief at hearing the sudden news of her death--that I was
+stricken down by my despair--but then--I must not forget--I was to have
+been in Naples. Yes--the thing looks suspicious--I shall be tracked!--I
+must leave Italy. But how?"
+
+Bathed in cold perspiration he lay, wondering, scheming, devising all
+sorts of means of escape from his present surroundings, when he became
+suddenly aware of a tall dark figure in the cell,--a figure muffled
+nearly to its eyes, which had entered with such stealthy softness and
+silence as to give almost the impression of some supernatural visitant.
+He uttered a faint exclamation--the figure raised one hand menacingly.
+
+"Be silent!" These words were uttered in a harsh whisper. "If you value
+your life, hold your peace till I have said what I come to say!"
+
+Moving to the door of the cell, the mysterious visitor bolted it across
+and locked it--then dropped the disguising folds of his heavy mantle
+and monk's cowl, and disclosed the face and form of Domenico Gherardi.
+Paralysed with fear Varillo stared at him,--every drop of blood seemed
+to rush from his heart to his brain, turning him sick and giddy, for in
+the dark yet fiery eyes of the priest, there was a look that would have
+made the boldest tremble.
+
+"I knew that you were here," he said, his thin lips widening at the
+corners in a slight disdainful smile. "I saw you at the inn on the road
+to Frascati, and watched you shrink and tremble as I spoke of the
+murder of Angela Sovrani! You screened your face behind a paper you
+were reading,--that was not necessary, for your hand shook,--and so
+betrayed itself as the hand of the assassin!"
+
+With a faint moan, Varillo shudderingly turned away and buried his head
+in his pillow.
+
+"Why do you now wish to hide yourself?" pursued Gherardi. "Now when you
+are an honest man at last, and have shown yourself in your true colors?
+You were a liar hitherto, but now you have discovered yourself to be
+exactly as the devil made you, why you can look at me without fear--we
+understand each other!"
+
+Still Varillo hid his eyes and moaned, and Gherardi thereupon laid a
+rough hand on his shoulder.
+
+"Come, man! You are not a sick child to lie cowering there as though
+seized by the plague! What ails you? You have done no harm! You tried
+to kill something that stood in your way,--I admire you for that! I
+would do the same myself at any moment!"
+
+Slowly Varillo lifted himself and looked up at the dark strong face
+above him.
+
+"A pity you did not succeed!" went on Gherardi, "for the world would
+have been well rid of at least one feminine would-be 'genius,' whose
+skill puts that of man to shame! But perhaps it may comfort you to know
+that your blow was not strong enough or deep enough, and that your
+betrothed wife yet lives to wed you--if she will!"
+
+"Lives!" cried Florian. "Angela lives!"
+
+"Ay, Angela lives!" replied Gherardi coldly. "Does that give you joy?
+Does your lover's heart beat with ecstasy to know that she--twenty
+times more gifted than you, a hundred times more famous than you, a
+thousand times more beloved by the world than you--lives, to be crowned
+with an immortal fame, while you are relegated to scorn and oblivion!
+Does that content you?"
+
+A dull red flush crept over Varillo's cheeks,--his hand flenched the
+coverlet of his bed convulsively.
+
+"Lives!" He muttered. "She lives! Then it must be by a miracle! For I
+drove the steel deep . . . deep home!"
+
+Gherardi looked at him curiously, with the air of a scientist watching
+some animal writhing under vivisection.
+
+"Perhaps Cardinal Felix prayed for her!" he said mockingly, "and even
+as he healed the crippled child in Rouen he may have raised his niece
+from the dead! But miracle or no miracle, she lives. That is why I am
+here!"
+
+"Why--you--are--here?" repeated Varillo mechanically.
+
+"How dull you are!" said Gherardi tauntingly. "A man like you with a
+dozen secret intrigues in Rome, should surely be able to grasp a
+situation better! Angela Sovrani lives, I tell you,--I am here to help
+you to kill her more surely! Your first attempt was clumsy,--and
+dangerous to yourself, but--murder her reputation, amico, murder her
+reputation!--and so build up your own!"
+
+Slowly Varillo turned his eyes upon him. Gherardi met them
+unflinchingly, and in that one glance the two were united in the spirit
+of their evil intention.
+
+"You are a man," went on Gherardi, watching him closely. "Will you
+permit yourself to be baffled and beaten in the race for fame by a
+woman? Shame on you if you do! Listen! I am prepared to swear that you
+are innocent of having attempted the murder of your affianced wife, and
+I will also assert that the greater part of her picture was painted by
+you, though you were, out of generosity and love for her, willing to
+let her take the credit of the whole conception!"
+
+Varillo started upright.
+
+"God!" he cried. "Is it possible! Will you do this for me?"
+
+"Not for you--No," said Gherardi contemptuously. "I will do nothing for
+you! If I saw you lying in the road at my feet dying for want of a drop
+of water, I would not give it to you! What I do, I do for myself--and
+the Church!"
+
+By this time Varillo had recovered his equanimity. A smile came readily
+to his lips as he said--
+
+"Ah, the Church! Excellent institution! Like charity, it covers a
+multitude of sins!"
+
+"It exists for that object," answered Gherardi with a touch of ironical
+humor. "Its own sins it covers,--and shows up the villainies of those
+who sin outside its jurisdiction. Angela Sovrani is one of these,--her
+uncle the Cardinal is another,--Sylvie Hermenstein--"
+
+"What of her?" cried Varillo, his eyes sparkling. "Is her marriage
+broken off?"
+
+"Broken off!" Gherardi gave a fierce gesture. "Would that it were! No!
+She renounces the Church for the sake of Aubrey Leigh--she leaves the
+faith of her fathers--"
+
+"And takes the wealth of her fathers with her!" finished Varillo,
+maliciously. "I see! I understand! The Church has reason for anger!"
+
+"It has reason!" echoed Gherardi. "And we of the Church choose you as
+the tool wherewith to work our vengeance. And why? Because you are a
+born liar!--because you can look straight in the eyes of man or woman,
+and swear to a falsehood without flinching!--because you are an
+egotist, and will do anything to serve yourself--because you have
+neither heart nor conscience--nor soul nor feeling,--because you are an
+animal in desires and appetite,-because of this, I say, we yoke you to
+our chariot wheels, knowing you may be trusted to drive over and
+trample down the creatures that might be valuable to you if they did
+not stand in your way!"
+
+Such bitterness, such scorn, such loathing were in his accents, that
+even the callous being he addressed was stung, and made a feeble
+gesture of protest.
+
+"You judge me harshly," he began--
+
+Gherardi laughed.
+
+"Judge you! Not I! No judgment is wanted. I read you like a book
+through and through,--a book that should be set on Nature's Index
+Expurgatorius, as unfit to meet the eyes of the faithful! You are a low
+creature, Florian Varillo,--and unscrupulous as I am myself, I despise
+you for meanness greater than even I am capable of! But you are a
+convenient tool, ready to hand, and I use you for the Church's service!
+If you were to refuse to do as I bid you, I would brand you through the
+world as the murderer you are! So realize to the full how thoroughly I
+have you in my power. Now understand me,--you must leave this place
+to-morrow. I will send my carriage for you, and you shall come at once
+to me, to me in Rome as my guest,--my HONOURED guest!" And he
+emphasized the word sarcastically. "You are weak and ill yet, they tell
+me here,--so much the better for you. It will make you all the more
+interesting! You will find it easier to play the part of injured
+innocence! Do you understand?"
+
+"I understand," answered Varillo with a faint shudder, for the strong
+and relentless personality of Gherardi overpowered him with a sense of
+terror which he could not wholly control.
+
+"Good! Then we will say no more. Brief words are best on such burning
+matters. To-morrow at six in the afternoon I will send for you. Be
+ready! Till then--try to rest--try to sleep without dreaming of a
+scaffold!"
+
+He folded his mantle around him again and prepared to depart.
+
+"Sleep," he repeated. "Sleep with a cold heart and quiet mind! Think
+that it is only a woman's name--a woman's work--a woman's honour, that
+stand in your way,--and congratulate yourself with the knowledge that
+the Church and her Divine authority will help you to remove all three!
+Farewell!"
+
+He turned, and unlocked the door of the cell. As he threw it open, he
+was confronted by the monk Ambrosio, who was outside on the very
+threshold.
+
+"What are you doing here?" he demanded suspiciously. "I had a permit
+from the Superior to speak to your charge alone."
+
+"And were you not alone?" returned Ambrosio smiling. "I was not with
+you! I was here as sentinel, to prevent anyone disturbing you. Poor
+Ambrosio--mad Ambrosio! He is no good at all except to guard the dead!"
+
+Gherardi looked at him scrutinizingly, and noted the lack-lustre eyes,
+the helpless childish expression, of the half-young, half-old face
+confronting his own.
+
+"Guard the dead as much as you please," he said harshly. "But take heed
+how you spy on the living! Be careful of the sick man lying yonder--we
+want him back with us in Rome to-morrow."
+
+Ambrosio nodded.
+
+"Back in Rome--good--good!" he said. "Then he is living after all! I
+thought he was dead in his sins as I am,--but you tell me he lives, and
+will go back to Rome!--Oh yes--I will take care of him--good care!--do
+not fear! I know how to guard him so that he shall not escape you!"
+
+Gherardi looked at him again sharply, but he was playing with his long
+rosary and smiling foolishly, and there seemed no use in wasting
+further speech upon him. So, muffling himself in his cloak, he strode
+away, and Ambrosio entered the cell.
+
+"You shall have meat and wine presently," he said, approaching the bed
+where Florian lay. "The devil has given orders that you shall be well
+fed!"
+
+Varillo looked up and smiled kindly. He could assume any expression at
+command, and it suited his purpose just now to be all gentleness.
+
+"My poor friend!" he said compassionately. "Your wits are far astray!
+Devil? Nay--he who has just left us is more of a saint!"
+
+Ambrosio's brown eyes flashed, but he maintained a grave and immovable
+aspect.
+
+"The devil has often mocked us in saint's disguise," he said slowly. "I
+tell the porter here every night to keep the gates well locked against
+him,--but this time it was no use; he has entered in. And now we shall
+have great work to get him out!"
+
+Varillo resting his head on one arm, studied him curiously.
+
+"You must have lived a strange life in the world!" he said. "That is if
+you were ever in the world at all. Were you?"
+
+"Oh yes, I was in the world," replied Ambrosio calmly. "I was in the
+midst of men and women who passed their whole lives in acts of cruelty
+and treachery to one another. I never met a man who was honest; I never
+saw a woman who was true! I wondered where God was that He permitted
+such vile beings to live and take His name in vain. He seemed lost and
+gone,--I could not find Him!"
+
+"Ah!" ejaculated Florian languidly. "And did yon discover Him here? In
+this monastery?"
+
+"No--He is not here, for we are all dead men," said Ambrosio. "And God
+is the God of the living, not the God of the dead! Shall I tell you
+where I found him?" And he advanced a step or two, raising one hand
+warningly as though he were entrusted with some message of doom--"I
+found Him in sin! I tried to live a life of truth in a world of lies,
+but the lies were too strong for me,--they pulled me down! I fell--into
+a black pit of crime--reckless, determined, conscious wickedness,--and
+so found God--in my punishment!"
+
+He clasped his hands together with an expression of strange ecstasy.
+
+"Down into the darkness!" he said. "Down through long vistas of shadow
+and blackness you go, glad and exultant, delighting in evil, and
+thinking 'God sees me not!' And then suddenly at the end, a sword of
+fire cuts the darkness asunder,--and the majesty of the Divine Law
+breaks your soul on the wheel!"
+
+He looked steadfastly at Varillo.
+
+"So you will find,--so you must find, if you ever go down into the
+darkness."
+
+"Ay, if I ever go," said Florian gently. "But I shall not."
+
+"No?--then perhaps you are there already?" said Ambrosio smiling, and
+playing with his rosary. "For those who say they will never sin have
+generally sinned!"
+
+Varillo held the same kind look of compassion in his eyes. He was fond
+of telling his fellow-artists that he had a "plastic" face,--and this
+quality served him well just now. He might have been a hero and martyr,
+from the peaceful and patient expression of his features, and he so
+impressed by his manner a lay-brother who presently entered to give him
+his evening meal, that he succeeded in getting rid of Ambrosio
+altogether.
+
+"You are sure you are strong enough to be left without an attendant?"
+asked the lay-brother solicitously, quite captivated by the gentleness
+of his patient. "There is a special evening service to-night in the
+chapel, and Ambrosio should be there to play the organ--for he plays
+well--but this duty had been given to Fra Filippo--"
+
+"Nay, but let Ambrosio fulfil his usual task," said Varillo
+considerately. "I am much better--much stronger,--and as my good friend
+Monsignor Gherardi desires me to be in Rome to-morrow, and to stay with
+him till I am quite restored to health, I must try to rest as quietly
+as I can till my hour of departure."
+
+"You must be a great man to have Domenico Gherardi for a friend!" said
+the lay-brother wistfully.
+
+Here Ambrosio suddenly burst into a loud laugh.
+
+"You are right! He is a great man!--one of the greatest in Rome, or for
+that matter in the world! And he means to be yet greater!" And with
+that he turned on his heel and left the cell abruptly.
+
+Varillo, languidly sipping the wine that had been brought to him with
+his food, looked after him with a pitying smile.
+
+"Poor soul!" he said gently.
+
+"He was famous once," said the lay-brother, lowering his voice as he
+spoke. "One of the most famous sculptors in Europe. But something went
+wrong with his life, and he came here. It is difficult to make him
+understand orders, or obey them, but the Superior allows him to remain
+on account of his great skill in music. On that point at least he is
+sane."
+
+"Indeed!" said Varillo indifferently. He was beginning to weary of the
+conversation, and wished to be alone. "It is well for him that he is
+useful to you in some regard. And now, my friend, will you leave me to
+rest awhile? If it be possible I shall try to sleep now till morning."
+
+"One of us will come to you at daybreak," said the lay-brother. "You
+are still very weak--you will need assistance to dress. Your clothes
+are here at the foot of the bed. I hope you will sleep well."
+
+"Thank you!" said Varillo, conveying an almost tearful look of
+gratitude into his eyes--"You are very good to me! God bless you!"
+
+The lay-brother made a gentle deprecatory gesture of his hands and
+retired, and Varillo was left to his own reflections. He lay still,
+thinking deeply, and marvelling at the unexpected rescue out of his
+difficulties so suddenly afforded him.
+
+"With Gherardi to support me, I can say anything!" he mused, his heart
+beating quickly and exultingly. "I can say anything and swear anything!
+And even if the sheath of my dagger has been found, it will be no
+proof, for I can say it is not mine. Any lie I choose to tell will have
+Gherardi's word to warrant it!--so I am safe--unless Angela speaks!"
+
+He considered this possibility for a moment, then smiled.
+
+"But she never will! She is one of those strange women who endure
+without complaint,--she is too lofty and pure for the ways of the
+world, and the world naturally takes vengeance upon her. There is not a
+man born that does not hate too pure a woman; it is his joy to degrade
+her if he can! This is the way of Nature; what is a woman made for
+except to subject herself to her master! And when she rises superior to
+him--superior in soul, intellect, heart and mind, he sees in her
+nothing but an abnormal prodigy, to be stared at, laughed at,
+despised--but never loved! The present position of affairs is Angela's
+fault, not mine. She should not have concealed the work she was doing
+from her lover, who had the right to know all her secrets!"
+
+He laughed,--a low malicious laugh, and then lay tranquilly on his
+pillows gazing at the gradually diminishing light. Day was
+departing--night was coming on,--and as the shadows lengthened, the
+solemn sound of the organ began to vibrate through the walls of the
+monastery like far-off thunder growing musical. With a certain sensuous
+delight in the beautiful, Varillo listened to it with pleasure; he had
+no mind to probe the true meaning of music, but the mere sound was
+soothing and sublime, and seemed in its gravity, to match the "tone" of
+the light that was gradually waning. So satisfied was he with that
+distant pulse of harmony that he began weaving some verses in his head
+to "His Absent Lady,"--and succeeded in devising quite a charming lyric
+to her whose honour and renown he was ready to kill. So complex, so
+curious, so callous, yet sensuous, and utterly egotistical was his
+nature, that had Angela truly died under his murderous blow, he would
+have been ready now to write such exquisite verses in the way of a
+lament for her loss, as should have made a world of sentimental women
+weep, not knowing the nature of the man.
+
+The last glimpse of day vanished, and the cell was only illuminated by
+a flickering gleam which crept through the narrow crevice of the door
+from the oil lamp outside in the corridor. The organ music ceased--to
+be followed by the monotonous chanting of the monks at their evening
+orisons,--and in turn, these too came to an end, and all was silent.
+Easily and restfully Florian Varillo, calling himself in his own mind
+poet, artist, and lover of all women rather than one, turned on his
+pillow and slept peacefully,--a calm deep sleep such as is only
+supposed to visit the innocent and pure of conscience, but which in
+truth just as often refreshes the senses of the depraved and dissolute,
+provided they are satisfied with evil as their good. How many hours he
+slept he did not know, but he was wakened at last by a terrible sense
+of suffocation, and he sat up gasping for breath, to find the cell full
+of thick smoke and burning stench. The flickering reflection of the
+lamp was gone, and as he instinctively leaped from his bed and grasped
+his clothes, he heard the monastery bell above him swinging to and fro,
+with a jarring heavy clang. Weak from the effects of his illness, and
+scarcely able to stand, he dragged on some of his garments, and rushing
+to the door threw it open, to be met with dense darkness and thick
+clouds of smoke wreathing towards him in all directions. He uttered a
+loud shriek.
+
+"Fire!"
+
+The bell clanged on slowly over his head, but otherwise there was no
+response. Stumbling along, blinded, suffocated, not knowing at any
+moment whether he might not be precipitated down some steep flight of
+stairs or over some high gallery in the building, he struggled to
+follow what seemed to be a cooling breath of air which streamed through
+the smoke as though blowing in from some open door, and as he felt his
+way with his hands on the wall he suddenly heard the organ.
+
+"Thank God!" he thought, "I am near the chapel! The fire has broken out
+in this part of the building--the monks do not know and are still at
+prayer. I shall be in time to save them all! . . ."
+
+A small tongue of red flame flashed upon his eyes--he recoiled--then
+pressed forward again, seeing a door in front of him. The organ music
+sounded nearer and nearer; he rushed to the door, half choked and
+dizzy, and pushing it open, reeled into the organ loft, where at the
+organ, sat the monk Ambrosio, shaking out such a storm of music as
+might have battered the gates of Heaven or Hell. Varillo leaped
+forward--then, as he saw the interior of the chapel, uttered one
+agonized shriek, and stood as though turned to stone. For the whole
+place was in flames!--everything from the altar to the last small
+statue set in a niche, was ablaze, and only the organ, raised like a
+carven pinnacle, appeared to be intact, set high above the blazing
+ruin. Enrapt in his own dreams, Ambrosio sat, pouring thunderous
+harmony out of the golden-tubed instrument which as yet, with its
+self-acting machinery, was untouched by the flames, and Varillo
+half-mad with terror, sprang at him like a wild beast
+
+"Stop!" he cried "Stop, fool! Do you not see--can you not
+understand--the monastery is on fire!"
+
+Ambrosio shook him off, his brown eyes were clear and bright,--his
+whole expression stern and resolved.
+
+"I know it," he replied. "And we shall burn--you and I--together!"
+
+'Oh, mad brute!" cried Varillo. "Tell me which way to go!--where are
+the brethren?"
+
+"Outside!" he answered "Safe!--away at the farther end of the garden,
+digging their own graves, as usual! Do you not hear the bell? We are
+alone in the building!--I have locked the doors,--the fire is kindled
+inside! We shall be dead before the flames burst through!"
+
+"Madman!" shrieked Varillo, recoiling as the thick volumes of smoke
+rolled up from the blazing altar. "Die if you must!--but I will not!
+Where are the windows?--the doors?--"
+
+"Locked and bolted fast," said Ambrosio, with a smile of triumph.
+"There is no loophole of escape for you! The world might let you go
+free to murder and betray,--but I--Ambrosio,--a scourge in the Lord's
+hand--I will never let you go! Pray--pray before it is too late! I
+heard the devil tempt you--I heard you yield to his tempting! You were
+both going to ruin a woman--that is devil's work. And God told me what
+to do--to burn the evil out by flame, and purify your soul! Pray,
+brother, pray!--for in the searching and tormenting fire it will be too
+late! Pray! Pray!"
+
+And pressing his hands again upon the organ he struck out a passage of
+chords like the surging of waves upon the shore or storm-winds in the
+forest, and began to sing,
+
+ "Confutatis maledictis
+ Flammis acribus addictis
+ Voci me cum benedictis!"
+
+Infuriated to madness but too physically weak to struggle with one who,
+though wandering in brain, was sound in body, Varillo tried to drag him
+from his seat,--but the attempt was useless. Ambrosio seemed possessed
+by a thousand electric currents of force and resolution combined. He
+threw off Varillo as though he were a mere child, and went on singing--
+
+ "Oro supplex et acclinis
+ Cor contritum quasi cinis:
+ Gere curam mei finis.
+ . . . .
+ Lacrymosa dies illa,--"
+
+Driven to utter desperation, Varillo stood for a moment inert,--then,
+suddenly catching sight of a rope hanging from one of the windows close
+at hand, he rushed to it and pulled it furiously. The top of the window
+yielded, and fell open on its hinge--the smoke rushed up to the
+aperture, and Florian, still clinging to the rope, shouted,
+"Help!--Help!" with all the force he could muster. But the air blowing
+strongly against the smoke fanned the flames in the body of the
+chapel,--they leaped higher and higher,--and--seeing the red glow
+deepening about him, Ambrosio smiled.--"Cry your loudest, you will
+never be heard!" he said--"Those who are busy with graves have done
+with life! You had best pray while you have time--let God take you with
+His name on your lips!"
+
+And as the smoke and flame climbed higher and higher and began to
+wreathe itself about the music gallery, he resumed his solemn singing.
+
+ "Lacrymosa dies illa,
+ Qua resurgat ex favilla
+ Judicandus homo reus
+ Huic ergo parce, Deus:
+ Pie Jesu Domine
+ Dona eis requiem!"
+
+But Varillo still shrieked "Help!" and his frenzied cries were at last
+answered. The great bell overhead ceased ringing suddenly,--and its
+cessation created an effect of silence even amid the noise of the
+crackling fire and the continued grave music of the organ. Then came a
+quick tramp of many feet--a hubbub of voices--and loud battering knocks
+at the chapel door. Ambrosio laughed triumphantly.
+
+"We are at prayers!" he cried--"We admit no one! The devil and I are at
+prayers!"
+
+Varillo sprang at him once more.
+
+"Madman! Show me the way!" he screamed. "Show me the way down from this
+place or I will strangle you!"
+
+"Find your own way!" answered Ambrosio--"Make it--as you have always
+made it!--and follow it--to Hell!"
+
+As he spoke the gallery rocked to and fro, and a tall flame leaped at
+the organ like a living thing ready to seize and devour. Still the
+knocking and hammering continued, and still Ambrosio played wild
+music--till all at once the chapel door was broken open and a group of
+pale spectral faces in monk's cowls peered through the smoke, and then
+retreated again.
+
+"Help!" shrieked Varillo--"Help!"
+
+But the air rushing through the door and meeting with that already
+blowing through the window raised a perfect pyramid of flame which rose
+straight up and completely encircled the organ. With a frightful cry
+Varillo rushed to Ambrosio's side, and cowering down, clung to his
+garments.
+
+"Oh, God!--Oh, God! Have mercy!--"
+
+"He will have mercy!" said Ambrosio, still keeping his hands on the
+organ-keys and drawing out strange plaintive chords of solemn
+harmony--"He will have mercy--be sure of it! Ambrosio will ask Him to
+be merciful!--Ambrosio has saved you from crime worse than
+death,--Ambrosio has cleansed you by fire! Ambrosio will help you to
+find God in the darkness!"
+
+Smoke and flame encircled them,--for one moment more their figures were
+seen like black specks in the wreathing columns of fire--for one moment
+more the music of the organ thundered through the chapel,--then came a
+terrific crash--a roar of the victorious flames as they sprang up high
+to the roof of the building, and then--then nothing but a crimson glare
+on the Campagna, seen for miles and miles around, and afterwards
+described to the world by the world's press as the "Burning Down of a
+Trappist Monastery" in which no lives had been lost save those of one
+Fra Ambrosio, long insane, who was supposed to have kindled the
+destructive blaze in a fit of mania,--and of a stranger, sick of
+malarial fever, whom the monks had sheltered, name unknown.
+
+
+
+
+XXXVI.
+
+The same night which saw the red glare of the burning monastery
+reflected from end to end of the Campagna, like the glow of some
+gigantic pagan funeral pyre, saw also the quiet departure of Cardinal
+Bonpre and his "foundling" Manuel from Rome. Innocent of all evil,
+their escape was after the manner of the guilty; for the spies of the
+Vatican were on guard outside the Sovrani Palace, and one priest after
+another "relieved the watch" in the fashion of military sentries. But
+like all too cunning schemers, these pious detectives overreached the
+goal of their intention, and bearing in mind the fact of the Cardinal's
+unsuspecting simplicity, it never occurred to them to think he had been
+put on his guard so soon, or that he would take advantage of any secret
+way of flight. But the private door of Angela's studio through which
+Florian Varillo had fled, and the key of which he had thrown into the
+Tiber, had been forced open, and set in use again, and through this the
+harmless prelate, with his young companion, passed without notice or
+hindrance, and under the escort of Aubrey Leigh and Cyrillon Vergniaud,
+reached the railway station unintercepted by any message or messenger
+from the Papal court, and started for Paris and London. When the train,
+moving slowly at first from the platform, began to rush, and finally
+darted swiftly out of sight, Aubrey breathed more easily.
+
+"Thank God!" he said. "They are safe for the present! England is a free
+country!"
+
+"Is it?" And Vergniaud smiled a little. "Are you sure? England cannot
+dispute the authority of the Vatican over its own sworn servants. Are
+you not yourself contending against the power of Rome in Great Britain?"
+
+"Not only against Rome do I contend," replied Aubrey. "My battle is
+against all who seek to destroy the true meaning and intention of
+Christianity. But so far as Romanism is concerned,--we have a monarch
+whose proudest title is Defender of the Faith--that is Defender of the
+Faith against Papal interference."
+
+"Yes? And yet her bishops pander to Rome? Ah, my dear friend!--your
+monarch is kept in ignorance of the mischief being worked in her realm
+by the Papal secret service! Cardinal Bonpre in London is as much under
+the jurisdiction of the Pope as if he still remained in Rome, and
+though he may be able to delay the separation between himself and the
+boy he cherishes, he will scarcely avert it!"
+
+"Why should they wish to part that child from him I wonder!" said
+Aubrey musingly.
+
+Cyrillon shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Who can tell! They have their reasons, no doubt. Why should they wish
+to excommunicate Tolstoi? But they do! Believe me, there is a time of
+terror coming for the religious world--especially in your great English
+Empire. And when your good Queen dies, the trouble will begin!"
+
+Aubrey was silent for some minutes.
+
+"We must work, Cyrillon!" he said at last, laying a hand on his
+friend's shoulder. "We must work and we must never leave off working!
+One man may do much,--all history proves the conquering force of one
+determined will. You, young as you are, have persuaded France to listen
+to you,--I am doing my best to persuade England to hear me. We are only
+two--but others will follow. I know it is difficult!--it is harassing
+and often heartbreaking to insist on Truth when the whole world's press
+is at work bolstering up false gods, false ideals, false art, false
+sentiment,--but if we are firm--if we hold an unflinching faith, we
+shall conquer!"
+
+"You are brave!" said Cyrillon with a glance of mingled trust and
+admiration. "But you are an exception to the majority of men. The
+majority are cruel and treacherous, and stupid as well. Dense stupidity
+is hard to fight against! Who for example, do you suppose, will
+understand the lesson of Donna Sovrani's great picture?"
+
+"All the New World!" said Aubrey, with enthusiasm,--"It is for the New
+World--not the Old. And that reminds me to-day the picture is on view
+to the art-critics and experts for the first time. I prophesy it will
+be sold at once!"
+
+"That would make her father happy," said Cyrillon slowly. "But she--she
+will not care!"
+
+Aubrey looked at him attentively.
+
+"Have you seen her?"
+
+"Yes. For a moment only. I called at the Sovrani Palace and her father
+received me. We talked for some time together. I think he knows who
+dealt the murderous blow at his daughter, but he says nothing positive.
+He showed me the picture. It is great--sublime! I could have knelt
+before it! Then he took me to see Her--and I would have knelt still
+more readily! But--she is changed!"
+
+"And--are you?" asked Aubrey with a slight smile.
+
+"Changed? I? No--I shall never change. I loved her at first sight--I
+love her still more now. Yet I see the truth--she is broken-hearted!"
+
+"Time and great tenderness will heal the wound," said Aubrey gently.
+"Meanwhile have patience!"
+
+Cyrillon gave him a look more eloquent than speech, and by mutual
+consent they said no more on the subject of Angela just then.
+
+Next morning at the American Consulate, Sylvie, Comtesse Hermenstein,
+was quietly married by civil law to Aubrey Leigh. The ceremony took
+place in the presence of the Princesse D'Agramont, Madame Bozier, and
+Cyrillon Vergniaud. When it was over the wedded lovers and their
+friends returned to the Sovrani Palace, there to join Angela who had
+come down from her sick room to grace the occasion. She looked as fair
+and fragile as the delicate "Killmeny" of the poet's legend, just
+returned from wondrous regions of "faery," though the land poor Angela
+had wandered away from was the Land of Sweet Delusion, which enchanted
+garden she would never enter again. Pale and thin, with her beautiful
+eyes drooping wearily under their dreamy tired lids, she was the very
+ghost of her former self;--and the child-like way in which she clung to
+her father, and kept near her father always, was pathetic in the
+extreme. When Sylvie and Aubrey entered, with their three companions,
+she advanced to greet them, smiling bravely, though her lips quivered.
+
+"All happiness be with you, dear!" she said softly, and she slipped a
+chain of fine pearls round Sylvie's neck. "These were my mother's
+pearls,--wear them for my sake!"
+
+Sylvie kissed her in silence,--she could not say anything, even by the
+way of thanks,--her heart was too full.
+
+"We shall be very lonely without you, darling," went on Angela. "Shall
+we not, father?" Prince Pietro came to her side, and taking her hand
+patted it consolingly--"But we shall know you are happy in England--and
+we shall try and come and see you as soon as I get strong,--I want to
+join my uncle and Manuel. I miss Manuel very much,--he and my father
+are everything to me now!"
+
+She stretched out her hand to Aubrey, who bent over it and kissed it
+tenderly.
+
+"You are happy now, Mr. Leigh?" she said smiling.
+
+"Very happy!" said Aubrey. "May you be as happy soon!"
+
+She shook her head, and the smile passed from her eyes and lips,
+leaving her face very sorrowful.
+
+"I must work," she said. "Work brings content--if it does not insure
+joy." Her gaze involuntarily wandered to her great picture, "The Coming
+of Christ," which now, unveiled in all its splendour, occupied one end
+of her studio, filling it with a marvellous colour and glow of light.
+"Yes, I must work! That big canvas of mine will not sell I fear! My
+father was right. It was a mistake"--and she sighed--"a mistake
+altogether,--in more ways than one! And what is the use of painting a
+picture for the world if there is no chance to let the world see it?"
+
+Prince Pietro looked at her benevolently.
+
+"Your father was right, you think? Well, Angela mia, I think I had
+better be the first to own that your father was wrong! The picture is
+already sold;--that is if you consent to sell it!"
+
+Angela turned very white. "If I consent to sell it? Sell it--to whom?"
+
+Sylvie put a caressing arm around her. "Your father had the news this
+morning," she said, "and we all decided to tell it to you as soon as we
+came back from the Consulate. A wedding-surprise on our parts, Angela!
+You know the picture was on view for the first time yesterday to some
+of the critics and experts in Rome?"
+
+Angela made a faint sign of assent. Her wistful eyes were full of
+wonder and anxiety.
+
+"Well, among them was a purchaser for America--Oh, you need not look at
+me, my dear!--I have nothing to do with it! You shall see the letter
+your father received--and you shall decide; but the end of the whole
+matter is, Angela, that if you consent, the picture will be bought, not
+by any private purchaser, but by the American nation."
+
+"The American nation!" repeated Angela. "Are you really, really sure of
+this?"
+
+"Quite sure!" said Sylvie joyously. "And you must say good-bye to it
+and let it go across the wide ocean--out to the New World all alone
+with its grand and beautiful message,--unless you go with it and show
+the Americans something even more perfect and beautiful in yourself
+than the picture!--and you must be content to take twenty thousand
+pounds for it, and be acknowledged as the greatest painter of the age
+as well! This will be hard work, Angela!--but you must resign yourself!"
+
+She laughed for pure delight in her friend's triumph,--but Angela
+turned at once to her father.
+
+"Dearest father!" she said softly. "I am glad--for your sake!"
+
+He folded her in his arms, too deeply moved to speak, and then as he
+felt her trembling, he led her to a chair and beckoned to Cyrillon
+Vergniaud who had stood apart, watching the little scene in silence.
+
+"Come and talk to this dear girl!" he said. "She is not at all a good
+hostess to-day! She ought to entertain the bride and bridegroom
+here,--but it seems as if she needed to be entertained herself!" And
+then, as Cyrillon obeyed him, and drew near the idol of his thoughts
+with such hesitating reverence as might befit a pilgrim approaching the
+shrine of a beloved saint, he turned away and was just about to speak
+to the Princesse D'Agramont when a servant entered and said hurriedly--
+
+"Monsignor Gherardi desires to see Cardinal Bonpre!"
+
+There was a dead pause. The group of friends looked at one another in
+embarrassment. Angela rose from her chair trembling and glanced
+instinctively at her picture--and for a moment no one seemed quite
+certain what should be done next. The Princesse D'Agramont was the
+first to recover her self-possession.
+
+"Angela must not be here," she said. "She is not strong enough to stand
+a scene. And no doubt Gherardi has come to make one! We will leave him
+to you, Mr. Leigh--and to Gys Grandit!"
+
+She withdrew at once with Angela, and in another moment Gherardi was
+ushered in. He glanced quickly around him as he made his formal
+salutation,--his eyes rested for a moment on Sylvie and Aubrey
+Leigh--then he addressed himself to Prince Pietro.
+
+"I am sorry to intrude upon you, Prince!" he said. "I have an urgent
+matter to discuss with Cardinal Bonpre, and must see him at once."
+
+"I regret that it is not in my power to gratify your desire,
+Monsignor," said Prince Sovrani with stiff courtesy. "My brother-in-law
+the Cardinal left Rome last night"
+
+"Left Rome! Left Rome!" exclaimed Gherardi. "Who gave him permission to
+leave Rome!"
+
+"Was permission necessary?" asked Aubrey, stepping forward.
+
+"I did not address you, sir," returned Gherardi haughtily. "I spoke to
+Prince Sovrani."
+
+"Prince Sovrani might well decline to answer you," said Aubrey
+undauntedly. "Were I to make him acquainted with the fiendish plot you
+have contrived against his daughter's fame and honour, he would
+scarcely allow you to cross his threshold!"
+
+Gherardi stood still, breathing quickly, but otherwise unmoved.
+
+"Plot?" he echoed. "You must be mad! I have no plot against anyone. My
+business is to uphold the cause of truth and justice, and I shall
+certainly defend the name of the great artist who painted that
+picture"--and he pointed to Angela's canvas--"Florian Varillo! Dead as
+he is, his memory shall live!"
+
+"Dead!" cried Prince Sovrani, springing forward. "Dead! Make me sure of
+that, and I will praise God even for your lying tongue, if it could for
+once speak such a welcome truth!"
+
+Gherardi drew back amazed, instinctively recoiling from the flashing
+eyes and threatening figure of the irate nobleman.
+
+"Speak!" cried Sovrani again. "Tell me that the murderer of my child's
+youth and joy is dead and gone to hell--and I will sing a Laus Deo at
+St. Peter's! I will pay you a thousand pounds in masses to keep his
+soul safe with the devil to whom it has gone!"
+
+"Prince Sovrani, you are in ignorance of the facts," said Gherardi
+coldly. "And you speak in an anger, which if what you suspect were
+true, would be natural enough, but which under present circumstances is
+greatly misplaced. The unfortunate Florian Varillo has been ill for
+many days at a Trappist monastery on the Campagna. He had gone out
+towards Frascati on a matter connected with some business before
+starting for Naples, and as he was returning, he was suddenly met by
+the news of the assassination of his betrothed wife--"
+
+"And he knew nothing of it--" interposed Sovrani grimly. "Of course--he
+knew nothing!"
+
+"He knew nothing--how should he know!" responded Gherardi calmly--"The
+terrible shock threw him into a delirium and fever--he was found in a
+dead swoon and taken into the monastery for shelter. I saw him there
+only yesterday."
+
+He paused. No one spoke.
+
+"He was to have come to Rome to-day, and a full explanation of his
+absence would have been given. But last night the monastery was set on
+fire--"
+
+"Thank God!" said Sovrani.
+
+Gherardi looked at him with an air of admirably affected sorrowful
+reproach.
+
+"I grieve for your injustice and cruelty, Prince!" he said--"Some
+natural regret there should surely be in your mind at the tragic end of
+one so highly gifted--one whom you had accepted as your future
+son-in-law. He met with a terrible death! The monastery was set on
+fire, as I have told you--but the doors had all been previously locked
+within, it is supposed by one of the monks named Ambrosio, who was
+subject to fits of insanity--with the tragic result that he and Varillo
+perished in the flames, there being no possibility of rescue."
+
+"Then the guillotine is saved unnecessary soiling," said Sovrani
+fiercely. "And you, Monsignor Gherardi, should have a special
+'Jubilate' sung for the world being well-rid of an exceptionally damned
+and damnable villain!"
+
+There was something terrific in the aspect of Sovrani's face and
+threatening attitude, and for a moment Gherardi hesitated to go on with
+his prepared sequence of lies. Rallying his forces at last with an
+effort he made a very good assumption of his most authoritative manner.
+
+"Prince, I must ask you to be good enough to hear me patiently," he
+said. "Your mind has been grossly abused, and you are not aware of the
+true position of affairs. You imagine with some few gossips in Rome,
+that Florian Varillo, your daughter's betrothed husband, was guilty of
+the murderous attack upon her life--you are mistaken!"
+
+"Mistaken!" Prince Pietro laughed scornfully. "Prove my mistake!--prove
+it!"
+
+"I give you my word!" said Gherardi. "And I also swear to you that the
+picture yonder, which, though offensive to the Church and blasphemous
+in its teaching, is nevertheless a great masterpiece of painting, is
+the work of the unfortunate dead man you so greatly wrong!"
+
+"Liar!" And Cyrillon Vergniaud sprang forward, interposing himself
+between Sovrani and the priest. "Liar!"
+
+Gherardi turned a livid white.
+
+"Who is this ruffian?" he demanded, drawing his tall form up more
+haughtily than before. "A servant of yours?"
+
+"Ay, a servant of his, and of all honest men!" returned Cyrillon. "I am
+one whom your Church has learned to fear, but who has no fear of
+you!--one whom you have heard of to your cost, and will still hear
+of,--Gys Grandit!"
+
+Gherardi glanced him up and down, and then turned from him in disgust
+as from something infected by a loathly disease.
+
+"Prince Sovrani!" he said. "I cannot condescend to converse with a
+street ranter, such as this misguided person, who has most regrettably
+obtained admission to your house and society! I came to see your
+brother-in-law Cardinal Bonpre,--who has left Rome, you tell
+me--therefore my business must be discussed with you alone. I must ask
+you for a private audience."
+
+Sovrani looked at him steadily.
+
+"And I must refuse it, Monsignor! If in private audience you wish to
+repeat the amazing falsehood you have just uttered respecting my
+daughter's work--I am afraid I should hardly keep my hands off you!
+Believe me you are safest in company!"
+
+Monsignor Gherardi paused a moment,--then turned towards Sylvie.
+
+"Contessa," he said very deliberately. "You can perhaps arrange this
+matter better than I can. Florian Varillo is dead--as I have told you;
+and for stating what I believe to be the truth regarding him I have
+been subjected to insult in your presence. I have known you for many
+years and I knew your father before you,--I have no wish to either
+distress or offend you,--do you understand? I am in your hands!"
+
+Sylvie looked him full in the face. "My husband will answer you,
+Monsignor," she said. "I am in his hands!" Gherardi turned as crimson
+as he had before been pale. "Your husband!" He strode forward with a
+threatening movement--then stopped short, as he confronted Aubrey
+Leigh. "Your husband! So! You are married then!"--and he laughed
+fiercely--"Married by the law, and excommunicated by the Church! A
+pleasant position for the last of the Hermensteins! Contessa, by your
+own act you have ruined the fortunes of your friends! I would have held
+my peace at your will,--but now all Rome shall know the truth!" "The
+truth according to the convenience of papal Rome?" queried Aubrey
+Leigh--"The truth, as expounded to the Comtesse Hermenstein in your
+interview with her yesterday?"
+
+Gherardi looked him over with superb indifference.
+
+"My interview with the Comtesse Hermenstein was a private one"--he
+said,--"And if a spy was present, he must prove himself a spy. And we
+of the Church do not accept a spy's testimony!"
+
+White with indignation Aubrey sprang forward,--but Cyrillon Vergniaud
+restrained him. "Patience!" he said in a low tone--"Let him have his
+way for the moment--it will then be my turn!"
+
+"My word is law in Rome!"--went on Gherardi--"Whatsoever I choose to
+say will be confirmed and ratified by the greatest authority in the
+world--the Pope! I am ready to swear that Florian Varillo painted that
+picture,--and the Pope is ready to believe it! Who will admit such a
+masterpiece to be a woman's work? No one! Each member of the house of
+Sovrani can bear witness to the fact that no one ever saw Angela
+Sovrani painting it! But I know the whole story--I was the last to see
+Florian Varillo before his death--and he confessed the truth--that he
+had worked for his betrothed wife in order to give her the greater
+fame! So that he was not, and could not have been her assassin--"
+
+"Then her assassin must be found!" said Prince Pietro suddenly. "And
+the owner of this sheath--the sheath of the dagger with which she was
+stabbed--must claim his property!" And holding up the sheath in
+question before Gherardi he continued--
+
+"This _I_ found! This _I_ traced! Varillo's servant admitted it to be
+his master's--Varillo's mistress recognised it as her lover's--a slight
+thing, Monsignor!--but an uncomfortable witness! And if you dare to
+promulgate your lie against my daughter and her work, I will accuse you
+in the public courts of complicity in an attempted murder! And I doubt
+whether the Pope will judge it politic, or a part of national
+diplomacy, to support you then!"
+
+For a moment Gherardi was baffled. His dark brows met in a frown of
+menace and his lips tightened with his repressed fury. Then,--still
+managing to speak with the utmost composure, he said,
+
+"You will permit me to look at this dagger-sheath--this proof on which
+you place so much reliance?"
+
+In the certainty of his triumph, old Sovrani was ready to place it in
+the priest's extended hand, when young Vergniaud interposed and
+prevented him.
+
+"No! You can admire it from a distance, Monsignor! You are capable in
+your present humour of tearing it to atoms and so destroying evidence!
+As the 'servant' of Prince Sovrani, it is my business to defend him
+from this possibility!"
+
+Gherardi raised his dark eyes and fixed them, full of bitterest scorn,
+on the speaker.
+
+"So YOU are Gys Grandit!" he said in accents which thrilled with an
+intensity of hatred. "You are the busy Socialist, the self-advertising
+atheist, who, like a yelping cur, barks impotently under the wheels of
+Rome! You--Vergniaud's bastard--"
+
+"Give that name to your children at Frascati!" cried Cyrillon
+passionately. "And own them as yours publicly, as my father owned me
+before he died!"
+
+With a violent start, Gherardi reeled back as though he had been dealt
+a sudden blow, and over his face came a terrible change, like the grey
+pallor of creeping paralysis. White to the lips, he struggled for
+breath . . . he essayed to speak,--then failing, made a gesture with
+his hands as though pushing away some invisible foe. Slowly his head
+drooped on his breast, and he shivered like a man struck suddenly with
+ague. Startled and awed, everyone watched him in fascinated silence.
+Presently words came slowly and with difficulty between his dry lips.
+
+"You have disgraced me!" he said hoarsely--"Are you satisfied?" He took
+a step or two close up to the young man. "I ask you--are you satisfied?
+Or--do you mean to go on--do you want to ruin me?--" Here, moved by
+uncontrollable passion he threw up his hands with a gesture of despair.
+"God! That it should come to this! That I should have to ask you--you,
+the enemy of the Church I serve, for mercy! Let it be enough I
+say!--and I--I also will be silent!"
+
+Cyrillon looked at him straightly.
+
+"Will you cease to persecute Cardinal Bonpre?" he demanded. "Will you
+admit Varillo's murderous treachery?"
+
+Gherardi bent his head.
+
+"I will!" he answered slowly, "because I must! Otherwise--" He clenched
+his fist and his eyes flashed fire-then he went on--"But beware of
+Lorenzo Moretti! He will depose the Cardinal from office, and separate
+him from that boy who has affronted the Pope. He is even now soliciting
+the Holy Father to intervene and stop the marriage of the Comtesse
+Sylvie Hermenstein with Aubrey Leigh,--and--they are married! No
+more--no more!--I cannot speak--let me go--let me go--you have won your
+way!--I give you my promise!"
+
+"What is your promise worth?" said Vergniaud with disdain.
+
+"Nothing!" replied Gherardi bitterly. "Only in this one special
+instance it is worth all my life!--all my position! You--even you, the
+accursed Gys Grandit!--you have me in your power!"
+
+He raised his head as he said this,--his face expressed mingled agony
+and fury; but meeting Cyrillon's eyes he shrank again as if he were
+suddenly whipped by a lash, and with one quick stride, reached the
+door, and disappeared.
+
+There was a moment's silence after his departure. Then Aubrey Leigh
+spoke.
+
+"My dear Grandit! You are a marvellous man! How came you to know
+Gherardi's secrets?"
+
+"Through a section of the Christian-Democratic party here"--replied
+Cyrillon--"You must not forget that I, like you, have my disciples!
+They keep me informed of all that goes on in Rome, and they have
+watched Domenico Gherardi for years. We all know much--but we have
+little chance to speak! If England knew of Rome what France knows, what
+Spain knows,--what Italy knows, she would pray to be given a second
+Cromwell! For the time is coming when she will need him!"
+
+
+
+
+XXXVII.
+
+A few days later the fashionable world of Europe was startled by the
+announcement of two things. One was the marriage of Sylvie, Countess
+Hermenstein, to the "would-be reformer of the clergy," Aubrey Leigh,
+coupled with her renunciation of the Church of her fathers. There was
+no time for that Church to pronounce excommunication, inasmuch as she
+renounced it herself, of her own free will and choice, and made no
+secret of having done so. Some of her Hungarian friends were, or
+appeared to be, scandalized at this action on her part, but the
+majority of them treated it with considerable leniency, and in some
+cases with approval, on the ground that a wife's religion ought to be
+the same as that of her husband. If love is love at all, it surely
+means complete union; and one cannot imagine a perfect marriage where
+there is any possibility of wrangling over different forms of creed.
+The other piece of news, which created even more sensation than the
+first, was the purchase of Angela Sovrani's great picture, "The Coming
+of Christ," by the Americans. As soon as this was known, the crowd of
+visitors to the artist's studio assumed formidable proportions, and
+from early morning till late afternoon, the people kept coming and
+going in hundreds, which gradually swelled to thousands. For by-and-by
+the history of the picture got about in disjointed morsels of
+information and gossip which soon formed a consecutive and fairly
+correct narration. Experts criticized it,--critics "explained" it--and
+presently nothing was talked of in the art world but "The Coming of
+Christ" and the artist who painted it, Angela Sovrani. A woman!--only a
+woman! It seemed incredible--impossible! For why should a woman think?
+Why should a woman dare to be a genius? It seemed very strange! How
+much more natural for her to marry some decent man of established
+position and be content with babies and plain needlework! Here was an
+abnormal prodigy in the ways of womanhood,--a feminine creature who
+ventured to give an opinion of her own on something else than
+dress,--who presumed as it were, to set the world thinking hard on a
+particular phase of religious history! Then, as one after the other
+talked and whispered and commented, the story of Angela's own private
+suffering began to eke out bit by bit,--how she had been brutally
+stabbed m her own studio in front of her own picture by no other than
+her own betrothed husband Florian Varillo, who was moved to his
+murderous act by a sudden impulse of jealousy,--and how that same
+Varillo had met with his deserts in death by fire in the Trappist
+monastery on the Campagna. And the excitement over the great picture
+became more and more intense--especially when it was known that it
+would soon be taken away from Rome never to be seen there again. Angela
+herself knew little of her rapidly extending fame,--she was in Paris
+with the Princesse D'Agramont who had taken her there immediately after
+Monsignor Gherardi's visit to her father. She was not told of Florian
+Varillo's death till she had been some days in the French capital, and
+then it was broken to her as gently as possible. But the result was
+disastrous. The strength she had slowly regained seemed now to leave
+her altogether, and she was stricken with a mute despair which was
+terrible to witness. Hour after hour, she lay on a couch, silent and
+motionless,--her large eyes fixed on vacancy, her little white hands
+clasped close together as though in a very extremity of bodily and
+mental anguish, and the Princesse D'Agramont, who watched her and
+tended her with the utmost devotion, was often afraid that all her care
+would be of no avail, and that her patient would slip through her hands
+into the next world before she had time to even attempt to save her.
+And Cyrillon Vergmaud, unhappy and restless, wandered up and down
+outside the house, where this life, so secretly dear to him, was poised
+as it were on the verge of death, not daring to enter, or even enquire
+for news, lest he should hear the worst.
+
+One cold dark afternoon however, as he thus paced to and fro, he saw
+the Princesse D'Agramont at a window beckoning him, and with a
+sickening terror at his heart, he obeyed the signal.
+
+"I wish you would come and talk to her!" said the Princesse as she
+greeted him, with tears in her bright eyes. "She must be roused from
+this apathy. I can do nothing with her. But I think YOU might do much
+if you would!"
+
+"I will do anything--anything in the wide world!" said Cyrillon
+earnestly. "Surely you know that!"
+
+"Yes--but you must not be too gentle with her! I do not mean that you
+should be rough--God forbid!--but if you would speak to her with
+authority--if you could tell her that she owes her life and her work to
+the world--to God--"
+
+She broke off, not trusting herself to say more. Cyrillon raised her
+hand to his lips.
+
+"I understand!" he said. "You know I have hesitated--because--I love
+her! I cannot tell her not to grieve for her dead betrothed, when I
+myself am longing to take his place!"
+
+The Princesse smiled through her tears.
+
+"The position is difficult I admit!" she said, with a returning touch
+of playfulness--"But the very fact of your love for her should give you
+the force to command her back to life. Come!"
+
+She took him into the darkened room where Angela lay--inert, immovable,
+with always the same wide-open eyes, blank with misery and desolation,
+and said gently,
+
+"Angela, will you speak to Gys Grandit?"
+
+Angela turned her wistful looks upon him, and essayed a poor little
+ghost of a smile. Very gently Cyrillon advanced and sat down beside
+her,--and with equal gentleness, the Princesse D'Agramont withdrew.
+Cyrillon's heart beat fast; if he could have lifted that frail little
+form of a woman into his arms and kissed away the sorrow consuming it,
+he would have been happy,--but his mission was that of a friend, not
+lover, and his own emotions made it hard for him to begin. At last he
+spoke
+
+"When are you going to make up your mind to get well, dear friend?"
+
+She looked at him piteously.
+
+"Make up my mind to get well? I shall never be well again!"
+
+"You will if you resolve to be," said Cyrillon. "It rests with you!"
+
+She was silent.
+
+"Have you heard the latest news from Rome?" he asked after a pause.
+
+She made a faint sign in the negative.
+
+Cyrillon smiled.
+
+"The Church has with all due solemnity anathematized your picture as an
+inspiration of the Evil One! But it is better that it should be so
+anathematized than that it should be reported as not your own work.
+Between two lies, the emissaries of the Vatican have chosen the one
+least dangerous to themselves."
+
+Angela sighed wearily.
+
+"You do not care?" queried Cyrillon. "Neither anathema nor lie has any
+effect on you?"
+
+She raised her left hand and looked dreamily at the circlet of rubies
+on it--Florian Varillo's betrothal ring.
+
+"I care for nothing," she said slowly. "Nothing--now he is gone!"
+
+A bitter pang shot through Cyrillon's heart. He was quite silent.
+Presently she turned her eyes wistfully towards him.
+
+"Please do not think me ungrateful for all your kindness!--but--I
+cannot forget!"
+
+"Dear Donna Sovrani, may I speak to you fully and, frankly--as a
+friend? May I do so without offence?"
+
+She looked at him and saw how pale he was, how his lips trembled, and
+the consciousness that he was unhappy moved her to a faint sense of
+compunction.
+
+"Of course you may!" she answered gently. "I know you do not hate me."
+
+"Hate you!" Cyrillon paused, his eyes softening with a great tenderness
+as they rested upon her. "Who could hate you?"
+
+"Florian hated me," she said. "Not always,--no! He loved me once! Only
+when he saw my picture, then his love perished. Ah, my Florian! Had I
+known, I would have destroyed all my work rather than have given him a
+moment's pain!"
+
+"And would that have been right?" asked Cyrillon earnestly. "Would not
+such an act have been one of selfishness rather than sacrifice?"
+
+A faint color crept over her pale cheeks.
+
+"Selfishness?--"
+
+"Yes! Your love for him was quite a personal matter,--but your work is
+a message to the world. You would have sacrificed the world for his
+sake, even though he had murdered you!"
+
+"I would!" she answered, and her eyes shone like stars as she spoke.
+"The world is nothing to me; love was everything!"
+
+"That is your way of argument," said Cyrillon. "But it is not God's
+way!"
+
+She was silent, but her looks questioned him.
+
+"Genius like yours," he went on, "is not given to you for yourself
+alone. You cannot tamper with it, or play with it, for the sake of
+securing a little more temporal happiness or peace for yourself. Genius
+is a crown of thorns,--not a wreath of flowers to be worn at a feast of
+pleasure! You wished your life to be one of love,--God has chosen to
+make it one of suffering. You say the world is nothing to you,--then my
+dear friend, God insists that it shall be something to you! Have you
+the right--I ask you, have you the right to turn away from all your
+fellow mortals and say--'No--because I have been disappointed in my
+hope and my love, then I will have nothing to do with life--I will turn
+away from all who need my help--I will throw back the gifts of God with
+scorn to the Giver, and do nothing simply because I have lost what I
+myself specially valued!'"
+
+Her eyes fell beneath his straight clear regard, and she moved
+restlessly.
+
+"Ah you do not know--you do not understand!" she said. "I am not
+thinking of myself--indeed I am not! But I feel as if my work--my
+picture--had killed Florian! I hate myself!--I hate everything I have
+ever done, or could ever possibly do. I see him night and day in those
+horrible flames!--Oh God! those cruel flames!--he seems to reproach
+me,--even to curse me for his death!"
+
+She shuddered and turned her face away. Cyrillon ventured to take her
+hand.
+
+"That is not like you, dear friend!" he said, his rich voice trembling
+with the pity he felt for her. "That is not like your brave spirit! You
+look only at one aspect of grief--you see the darkness of the cloud,
+but not its brighter side. If I were to say that he whom you loved so
+greatly has perhaps been taken to save him from even a worse fate, you
+would be angry with me. You loved him--yes; and whatever he did or
+attempted to do, even to your injury, you would have loved him still
+had he lived! That is the angel half of woman's nature. You would have
+given him your fame had he asked you for it,--you would have pardoned
+him a thousand times over had he sought your pardon,--you would have
+worked for him like a slave and been content to die with your genius
+unrecognized if that would have pleased him. Yes I know! But God saw
+your heart--and his--and with God alone rests the balance of justice.
+You must not set yourself in opposition to the law; you,--such a
+harmonious note in work and life,--must not become a discord!"
+
+She did not speak. Her hand lay passively in his, and he went on.
+
+"Death is not the end of life. It is only the beginning of a new school
+of experience. Your very grief,--your present inaction, may for all we
+know, be injuring the soul of the man whose loss you mourn!"
+
+She sighed.
+
+"Do you think that possible--?"
+
+"I do think it very possible," he answered. "Natural sorrow is not
+forbidden to us,--but a persistent dwelling on cureless grief is a
+trespass against the law. Moreover you have been endowed with a great
+talent,--it is not your own--it is lent to you to use for others, and
+you have no right to waste it. The world has taken your work with joy,
+with gratitude, with thanksgiving; will you say that you do not care
+for the world?--that you will do nothing more for it?--Because one
+love--one life, has been taken from you, will you discard all love, all
+life? Dear friend, that will not be reasonable,--not right, nor just,
+nor brave!"
+
+A wistful longing filled her eyes.
+
+"I wish Manuel were here!" she said plaintively. "He would understand!"
+
+"Manuel is with Cardinal Bonpre in London," replied Cyrillon. "I heard
+from Aubrey yesterday that they are going about together among the
+poor, doing good everywhere. Would you like to join them? Your friend
+Sylvie would be glad to have you stay with her, I am sure."
+
+She gave a hopeless gesture.
+
+"I am not strong enough to go--" she began.
+
+"You will be strong enough when you determine to be," said Cyrillon.
+"Your frightened soul is making a coward of your body!"
+
+She started and drew her hand away from his gentle clasp.
+
+"You are harsh!" she said, looking at him straightly. "I am not
+frightened--I never was a coward!"
+
+Something of the old steady light came back to her eyes, and Cyrillon
+inwardly rejoiced to see it.
+
+"My words seem rough," he said, "but truly they are not so. I repeat,
+your soul is frightened--yes! frightened at the close approach of God!
+God is never so near to us as in a great sorrow; and when we feel His
+presence almost within sight and touch, we are afraid. But we must not
+give way to fear; we must not grovel in the dust and hide ourselves as
+if we were ashamed! We must rise up and grow accustomed to His glory,
+and let Him lead us where He will!"
+
+He paused, for Angela was weeping. The sound of her low sobbing smote
+him to the heart.
+
+"Angela--Angela!" he whispered, more to himself than to her. "Have I
+hurt you so much?"
+
+"Yes, yes!" she murmured between her tears. "You have hurt me!--but you
+are right--you are quite right! I am
+selfish--weak--cowardly--ungrateful too;--but forgive me,--have
+patience with me!--I will try--I will try to bear it all more
+bravely--I will indeed!"
+
+He rose from her side and paced the room, not trusting himself to
+speak. She looked at him anxiously and endeavoured to control her sobs.
+
+"You are angry?"
+
+"Angry!" He came back, and lifting her suddenly, but gently like a
+little child, he placed her in an easy sitting position, leaning cosily
+among her pillows. "Come!" he said smiling, as the colour flushed her
+cheeks at the swiftness of his action--"Let the Princesse D'Agramont
+see that I am something of a doctor! You will grow weaker and weaker
+lying down all day--I want to make you strong again! Will you help me?"
+
+He looked into her eyes, and her own fell before his earnest, reverent,
+but undisguisedly tender glance.
+
+"I will try to do what you wish," she said. "If I fail you must forgive
+me--but I will honestly try!"
+
+"If you try, you will succeed"--said Cyrillon, and bending down, he
+kissed the trembling little hands--"Ah! forgive me! If you knew how
+dear your life is--to--to many, you would not waste it in weeping for
+what cannot be remedied by all your tears! I will not say one word
+against the man you loved--for YOU do not say it, and you are the most
+injured;--he is dead--let him rest;--but life claims you,--claims me
+for the moment;--our fellow-men and women claim our attention, our
+work, our doing for the best and greatest while we can,--our duty is to
+them,--not to ourselves! Will you for your father's sake--for the
+world's sake--if I dared say, for MY sake!--will you throw off this
+torpor of sorrow? Only you can do it,--only you yourself can command
+the forces of your own soul! Be Angela once more!--the guiding angel of
+more lives than you know of!--"
+
+His voice sank to a pleading whisper.
+
+"I will try!" she answered in a low voice--"I promise!--"
+
+And when the Princess D'Agramont entered she was surprised and
+overjoyed to find her patient sitting up on her couch for the first
+time in many days, talking quietly with the Perseus she had sent to
+rescue the poor Andromeda from the jaws of a brooding Melancholia which
+might have ended in madness or death. With her presence the
+conversation took a lighter tone--and by-and-by Angela found herself
+listening with some interest to the reading of her father's last letter
+addressed to her kind hostess.
+
+"Angela's picture is gone out of Rome"--he wrote--"It was removed from
+the studio in the sight of an enormous crowd which had assembled to
+witness its departure. The Voce Della Verita has described it as a
+direct inspiration of the devil, and suggests the burning-down of the
+studio in which it was painted, as a means of purifying the Sovrani
+Palace from the taint of sulphur and brimstone. La Croix demands the
+excommunication of the artist, which by the way is very likely to
+happen. The Osservatore Romano wishes that the ship specially chartered
+to take it to America, may sink with all on board. All of which kind
+and charitable wishes on the part of the Vatican press have so
+augmented the fame of 'The Coming of Christ' that the picture could
+hardly be got through the crush of people craning their necks to get a
+glimpse of it. It is now en route via Bordeaux for London, where it is
+to be exhibited for six weeks. As soon as I have finished
+superintending the putting by of a few home treasures here, I shall
+join you in Paris, when I hope to find my dear girl nearly restored to
+her usual self. It will please her to know that her friend the charming
+Sylvie is well and very happy. She was married for the second time
+before a Registrar in London, and is now, as she proudly writes, 'well
+and truly' Mrs. Aubrey Leigh, having entirely dropped her title in
+favour of her husband's plainer, but to her more valuable designation.
+Of course spiteful people will say she ceased to be Countess
+Hermenstein in order not to be recognized too soon as the 'renegade
+from the Roman Church,' but that sort of thing is to be expected.
+Society never gives you credit for honest motives, but only for
+dishonest ones. We who know Sylvie, also know what her love for her
+husband is, and that it is love alone which inspires all her actions in
+regard to him. Her chief anxiety at present seems to be about Angela's
+health, and she tells me she telegraphs to you every day for news--"
+
+--"Is that true?" asked Angela, interrupting the reading of her
+father's letter. "Does Sylvie in all her new happiness, actually think
+of me so much and so often?"
+
+"Indeed she does!" replied the Princess D'Agramont. "Chere enfant, you
+must not look at all the world through the cloud of one sorrow! We all
+love you!--we are all anxious to see you quite yourself again!"
+
+Angela's eyes filled with tears as they rested on her friend's kindly
+face, a face usually so brilliant in its animated expression, but now
+saddened and worn by constant watching and fatigue.
+
+"You are far too good to me," she said in a low voice--"And I am most
+unworthy of all your attention."
+
+Loyse D'Agramont paid no heed to this remark, but resumed reading the
+Prince Sovrani's epistle--
+
+"Let me see! . . . Sylvie--yes--here it is--'She telegraphs to you
+every day for news, which is apparently the only extravagance she is
+guilty of just now. She and her husband have taken rooms in some very
+poor neighbourhood of London, and are beginning work in real earnest.
+Our good Felix and his cherished foundling have been with them into
+many wretched homes, cheering the broken-hearted, comforting the sick,
+and assuring all those who doubt it that there is a God in spite of
+priest-craft,--and I have received an English paper which announces
+that Mr. Aubrey Leigh will give one of his famous "Addresses to the
+People" on the last day of the year. I should like to hear him, though
+my very slight knowledge of English would be rather against me in the
+comprehension of what he might say. For all other news you must wait
+till we meet. Expect me in Paris in a few days, and ask my Angela to
+rouse herself sufficiently to give her old father a smile of welcome.
+My compliments to "Gys Grandit," and to you the assurance of my devoted
+homage. Pietro Sovrani.'"
+
+The Princesse folded up the letter and looked wistfully at Angela.
+
+"You will give him the smile of welcome he asks for, will you not,
+little one?" she asked. "You are all he has in the world, remember!"
+
+"I do remember," murmured Angela. "I know!"
+
+"Aubrey and his wife are 'beginning work in real earnest'!" said
+Cyrillon. "And how much their work will mean to the world! More than
+the world can at present imagine or estimate! It seems to be a settled
+thing that the value of great work shall never be recognised during the
+worker's lifetime, but only afterwards--when he or she who was so
+noble, so self-sacrificing, or so farseeing, shall have passed beyond
+the reach of envy, scorn and contumely, into other regions of existence
+and development. The finest deeds are done without acknowledgment or
+reward, and when the hero or heroine has gone beyond recall, the whole
+world stands lamenting its blindness for not having known or loved them
+better. Donna Sovrani"--and his voice softened--"will also soon begin
+again to work, like Aubrey and Sylvie, 'in real earnest.' Will she not?"
+
+Angela raised her eyes, full of sadness, yet also full of light.
+
+"Yes," she said. "I will! I will work my grief into a glory if I can!
+And the loss of world's love shall teach me to love God more!"
+
+Loyse D'Agramont embraced her.
+
+"That is my Angela!" she said. "That is what I wanted you to feel--to
+know--for I too have suffered!"
+
+"I know you have--and I should have remembered it!" said Angela,
+penitently. "But--I have been frozen with grief--paralysed in brain and
+heart, and I have forgotten so many things!" She trembled and closed
+her eyes for a moment,--then went on--"Give me a little time--a few
+more days!--and I will prove that I am not ungrateful for your love--"
+She hesitated, and then turning, gave her hand to Cyrillon,--"or for
+your friendship."
+
+He bent over the little hand and kissed it reverently, and soon
+afterwards took his leave, more light of heart, and more hopeful in
+spirit, than he had been for many days. He felt he could now go on with
+his work, part of which was the task of distributing the money his
+father had left him, among the poor of Paris. He considered that to
+leave money to the poor after death is not half such a Christian act as
+to give it while alive. Distributors, secretaries, lawyers, and
+red-tapeism come in with the disposal of wealth after we are gone;--but
+to give it to those in need with our own hands--to part with it freely
+and to deny ourselves something in order to give it,--that is doing
+what Christ asked us to do. And whether we are blessed or cursed by
+those whom we seek to benefit, none can take away from us the sweet
+sense of peace and comfort which is ours to enjoy, when we know that we
+have in some small measure tried to serve our Divine Master, for the
+"full measure" of content, "pressed down and running over" which He has
+promised to those who "freely give," has never yet been known to fail.
+
+And Cyrillon Vergniaud was given this happiness of the highest, purest
+kind, as with the aid of the wondering and reluctant Monsieur Andre
+Petitot, he gave poor families comfort for life, and rescued the sick
+and the sorrowful,--and all he reserved to himself from his father's
+large fortune was half a million francs. For he learned that most of
+the money he inherited had come to the late Abbe through large bequests
+left to him by those who had believed in him as a righteous priest of
+spotless reputation, and Cyrillon's conscience would not allow him to
+take advantage of money thus obtained, as he sternly told himself, "on
+false pretences."
+
+"My father would not have wished me to keep it after his public
+confession," he said. "And I will not possess more than should have
+been spared in common justice to aid my mother's life and mine. The
+rest shall be used for the relief of those in need. And I know,--if I
+told Angela--she would not wish it otherwise!"
+
+So he had his way. And while his prompt help and personal supervision
+of the distribution of his wealth brought happiness to hundreds of
+homes, he was rewarded by seeing Angela grow stronger every day. The
+hue of health came gradually back to her fair cheeks,--her eyes once
+more recovered their steadfast brightness and beauty, and as from time
+to time he visited her and watched her with all the secret passion and
+tenderness he felt, his heart grew strong within him.
+
+"She will love me one day if I try to deserve her love," he thought.
+"She will love me as she has never loved yet! No woman can understand
+the true worth of love, unless her lover loves her more than himself!
+This is a joy my Angela has not yet been given,--it will be for me to
+give it to her!"
+
+
+
+
+XXXVIII.
+
+With the entry of Angela's great picture "The Coming of Christ" into
+London, where it became at once the centre of admiration, contention
+and general discussion, one of the most singular "religious" marriage
+ceremonies ever known, took place in a dreary out-lying district of the
+metropolis, where none but the poorest of the poor dwell, working from
+dawn till night for the merest pittance which scarcely pays them for
+food and lodging. It was one of Aubrey Leigh's "centres," and to serve
+his needs for a church he had purchased a large wooden structure
+previously used for the storing of damaged mechanical appliances, such
+as worn-out locomotives, old railway carriages, and every kind of
+lumber that could possibly accumulate anywhere in a dock or an engine
+yard. The building held from three to four thousand people closely
+packed, and when Leigh had secured it for his own, he was as jubilant
+over his possession as if the whole continent of Europe had subscribed
+to build him a cathedral. He had the roof mended and made rainproof,
+and the ground planked over to make a decent flooring,--then he had it
+painted inside a dark oak colour, and furnished it with rows of
+benches. At the upper end a raised platform was erected, and in the
+centre of that platform stood a simple Cross of roughly carved dark
+wood, some twelve or fifteen feet in height. There was no other
+adornment in the building,--the walls remained bare, the floor
+unmatted, the seats uncushioned. No subscriptions were asked for its
+maintenance; no collection plate was ever sent around, yet here,
+whenever Leigh announced a coming "Address," so vast a crowd assembled
+that it was impossible to find room for all who sought admittance. And
+here, on one cold frosty Sunday morning, with the sun shining brightly
+through the little panes of common glass which had been inserted to
+serve as windows, he walked through a densely packed and expectant
+throng of poor, ill-clad, work-worn, yet evidently earnest and reverent
+men and women, leading his fair wife Sylvie, clad in bridal white, by
+the hand, up to the platform, and there stood facing the crowd. He was
+followed by Cardinal Bonpre and--Manuel. The Cardinal wore no outward
+sign of his ecclesiastical dignity,--he was simply attired in an
+ordinary priest's surtout, and his tall dignified figure, his fine
+thoughtful face and his reverend age, won for him silent looks of
+admiration and respect from many who knew nothing of him or of the
+Church to which he belonged, but simply looked upon him as a friend of
+their idolized teacher, Aubrey Leigh. Manuel passed through the crowd
+almost unnoticed, and it was only when he stood near the Cross, looking
+down upon the upturned thousands of faces, that a few remarked his
+presence. The people had assembled in full force on this occasion, an
+invitation having gone forth in Leigh's name asking them "to be
+witnesses of his marriage," and the excitement was intense, as Sylvie,
+veiled as a bride, obeyed the gentle signal of her husband, and took
+her seat on the platform by the side of the Cardinal on the left hand
+of the great Cross, against which Manuel leaned lightly like a child
+who is not conscious of observation, but who simply takes the position
+which seems to him most natural. And when the subdued murmuring of the
+crowd had died into comparative silence, Aubrey, advancing a little to
+the front of the Cross, spoke in clear ringing tones, which carried
+music to the ears and conviction to the heart.
+
+"My friends! I have asked you all here in your thousands, to witness
+the most sacred act of my human life--my marriage! By the law of this
+realm,--by the law of America, the country of my birth,--that marriage
+is already completed and justified,--but no 'religious' ceremony has
+yet been performed between myself and her whom I am proud and grateful
+to call wife. To my mind however, a 'religious' ceremony is necessary,
+and I have chosen to hold it here,--with you who have listened to me in
+this place many and many a time,--with you as witnesses to the oath of
+fidelity and love I am about to take in the presence of God! There is
+no clergyman present--no one to my knowledge of any Church denomination
+except a Cardinal of the Church of Rome who is my guest and friend, but
+who takes no part in the proceedings. The Cross alone stands before you
+as the symbol of the Christian faith,--and what I swear by that symbol
+means for me a vow that shall not be broken either in this world, or in
+the world to come! I need scarcely tell you that this is not the usual
+meaning of marriage in our England of to-day. There is much blasphemy
+in the world, but one of the greatest blasphemies of the age is the
+degradation of the sacrament of matrimony,--the bland tolerance with
+which an ordained priest of Christ presumes to invoke the blessing of
+God upon a marriage between persons whom he knows are utterly unsuited
+to each other in every way, who are not drawn together by love, but
+only by worldly considerations of position and fortune. I have seen
+these marriages consummated. I have seen the horrible and often tragic
+results of such unholy union. I have known of cases where a man,
+recognized as a social blackguard of the worst type, whose ways of life
+are too odious to be named, has been accepted as a fitting mate for a
+young innocent girl just out of school, because he is a Lord or a Duke
+or an Earl. Anything for money! Anything for the right to stand up and
+crow over your neighbours! When an inexperienced girl or woman is
+united for life to a loathsome blackguard, an open sensualist, a
+creature far lower than the beasts, yet possessed of millions, she is
+'congratulated' as being specially to be envied, when as a matter of
+strict honesty, it would be better if she were in her grave. The
+prayers and invocations pronounced at such marriages are not
+'religious,'--they are mere profanity! The priest who says 'Those whom
+God hath joined together let no man put asunder,' over such immoral
+wedlock, is guilty of a worse sacrilege than if he trampled on the
+bread and wine of Christ's Communion! For marriage was not intended to
+be a mere union of bodies,--but a union of souls. It is the most sacred
+bond of humanity. From the love which has created that bond, is born
+new life,--life which shall be good or evil according to the spirit in
+which husband and wife are wedded. 'The sins of the fathers shall be
+visited on the children,'--and the first and greatest sin is bodily
+union without soul-love. It is merely a form of animal desire,--and
+from desire alone no good or lofty thing can spring. We are not made to
+be 'as the beasts that perish'--though materialists and sensualists
+delight in asserting such to be our destiny, in order to have ground
+whereon to practise their own vices. This planet, the earth, is set
+under our dominion; the beasts are ours to control,--they do not
+control us. Our position therefore is one of supremacy. Let us not
+voluntarily fall from that position to one even lower than the level of
+beasts! The bull, the goat, the pig, are moved by animal desire alone
+to perpetuate their kind--but we,--we have a grander mission to
+accomplish than theirs--we in our union are not only responsible for
+the Body of the next generation to come, but for the brain, the heart,
+the mind, and above all the Soul! If we wed in sin, our children must
+be born in sin. If we make our marriages for worldly advantage, vanity,
+blind desire, or personal convenience, our children will be moulded on
+those passions, and grow up to be curses to the world they live in.
+Love, and love only of the purest, truest, and highest kind, must be
+the foundation of the marriage Sacrament,--love that is prepared to
+endure all the changes of fate and fortune--love that is happy in
+working and suffering for the thing beloved--love that counts nothing a
+hardship,--neither sickness, nor sorrow, nor poverty, provided it can
+keep its faith unbroken!"
+
+He paused--there was a slight stir among the audience, but otherwise
+not a sound. Sylvie sat quiet, a graceful, nymph-like figure, veiled in
+her cloudy white--Cardinal Bonpre's mild blue eyes raised to the
+speaker's face, were full of rapt attention--and Manuel still leaning
+against the great Cross seemed absorbed in dreamy and beautiful
+thoughts of his own.
+
+"I should like," went on Aubrey with increasing warmth and passion, "to
+tell you what I mean by 'faith unbroken.' It is the highest form of
+love,--the only firm rock of friendship. It leaves no room for
+suspicion,--no place for argument--no cause for contradiction. It is
+the true meaning of the wedding-ring. Apart from marriage altogether,
+it is the only principle that can finally civilize and elevate man. So
+long as we doubt God and mistrust our fellows, so long must corruption
+sway business, and wars move nations. The man who gives us cause to
+suspect his honesty,--the man who forces us to realize the existence of
+treachery, is a worse murderer than he who stabs us bodily to death;
+for he has tainted our soul; he has pushed us back many steps on our
+journey Godward, and has made us wonder and question whether in truth a
+God can exist who tolerates in His universe such a living lie! It is
+only when we have to contemplate a broken faith that we doubt God! For
+a broken faith is an abnormal prodigy in the natural scheme of the
+universe--a discord in the eternal music of the stars! There are no
+treacheries, no falsifying of accounts, in the Divine order of the Law.
+The sun does not fail to rise each morning, whether clouds obscure the
+sky or not,--the moon appears at her stated seasons and performs her
+silver-footed pilgrimage faithfully to time--the stars move with
+precision in their courses,--and so true are they to their ordainment,
+that we are able to predict the manner in which they will group
+themselves and shine, years after we have passed away. In the world of
+Nature the leaves bud, and the birds nest at the coming of Spring; the
+roses bloom in Summer--the harvest is gathered in Autumn,--the whole
+marvellous system moves like a grand timepiece whose hands are never
+awry, whose chimes never fail to ring the exact hour,--and in all the
+splendour of God's gifts to us there is no such thing as a broken
+faith! Only we,--we, the creatures He has endowed with 'His own
+image,'--Free-will,--break our faith with Him and with each other. And
+so we come to mischief, inasmuch as broken faith is no part of God's
+Intention. And when two persons, man and woman, swear to be true to
+each other before God, so long as life shall last, and afterwards break
+that vow, confusion and chaos result from their perjury, and all the
+pestilential furies attending on a wrong deed whip them to their
+graves! In these times of ours, when wars and rumours of wars shake the
+lethargic souls of too-exultant politicians and statesmen with anxiety
+for themselves if not for their country, we hear every day of men and
+women breaking their marriage vows as lightly as though God were not
+existent,--we read of princes whose low amours are a disgrace to the
+world--of dukes and earls who tolerate the unchastity of their wives in
+order that they themselves may have the more freedom,--of men of title
+and position who even sell their wives to their friends in order to
+secure some much-needed cash or social advantage,--and while our law is
+busy night and day covering up 'aristocratic' crimes from publicity,
+and showing forth the far smaller sins of hard-working poverty, God's
+law is at work in a totally different way. The human judge may excuse a
+king's vices,--but before God there are neither kings nor commoners,
+and punishment falls where it is due! Christ taught us that the
+greatest crime is treachery, for of Judas He said 'it were better for
+that man that he had never been born,' and for the traitor and perjurer
+death is not the end, but the beginning, of evils. Against the man who
+accepts the life of a woman given to him in trust and love, and then
+betrays that life to misery, all Nature arrays itself in opposition and
+disaster. We, as observers of the great Play of human existence, may
+not at once see, among the numerous shifting scenes, where the
+evil-doer is punished, or the good man rewarded,--but wait till the
+end!--till the drop-curtain falls--and we shall see that there is no
+mistake in God's plan--no loophole left for breaking faith even with a
+child,--no 'permit' existing anywhere to destroy the life of the soul
+by so much as one false or cruel word! It is with a deep sense of the
+exact balance of God's justice, that I stand before you to-day, my
+friends, and ask you without any accepted ritual or ceremonial to hear
+my vows of marriage. She to whom I pledge my word and life, is one who
+in the world's eyes is accounted great, because rich in this world's
+goods,--but her wealth has no attraction for me, and for my own self I
+would rather she had been poor. Nevertheless, were she even greater
+than she is,--a crowned queen with many kingdoms under her control, and
+I but the poorest of her servants, nothing could undo the love we have
+for each other,--nothing could keep our lives asunder! Love and love
+only is our bond of union--sympathy of mind and heart and spirit;
+wealth and rank would have been but causes of division between us if
+love had not been greater. The world will tell you differently--the
+world will say that I have married for money--but you who know me
+better than the world, will feel by my very words addressed to you
+to-day that my marriage is a true marriage, in which no grosser element
+than love can enter. My wife's wealth remains her own--settled upon her
+absolutely and always, and I am personally as poor as when I first came
+among you and proved to you that hard work was a familiar friend. But I
+am rich in the possession of the helpmate God has given me, and with
+the utmost gratitude and humility I ask you to bear witness to the fact
+that this day before you and in the presence of the symbol of the
+Christian faith, I take my oath to be true to her and only her while
+life shall last!"
+
+Here going to where Sylvie stood, he took her by the hand, and led her
+to the front of the platform. Then he turned again to his eager and
+expectant audience.
+
+"In your presence, my friends, and in the presence of God and before
+the Cross, I take Sylvie Hermenstein to be my wedded wife! I swear to
+devote myself to her, body and soul,--to cherish her first and last of
+all human creatures,--to be true to her in thought, word and deed,--to
+care for her in sickness as in health, in age as in youth,--to honour
+her as my chiefest good,--and to die faithful to her in this
+world,--hoping by the mercy of God to complete a more perfect union
+with her in the world to come! In the name of Christ, Amen!"
+
+And then Sylvie threw back her veil and turned her enchanting face upon
+the crowd,--a face fairer than ever, irradiated by the love and truth
+of her soul,--and the people gazed and wondered, and wondering held
+their breath as her clear accents rang through the silence.
+
+"In your presence, and in the presence of God and before the Cross, I
+take Aubrey Leigh to be my wedded husband! I swear to devote myself to
+him body and soul, to cherish him first and last of all human
+creatures,--to be true to him in thought, word and deed,--to care for
+him in sickness as in health, in age as in youth,--to honour him as my
+chiefest good,--and to die faithful to him in this world,--praying God
+in His mercy to complete a more perfect union with him in the world to
+come. In the name of Christ, Amen!"
+
+Then Aubrey, taking his wife's hand, placed for the first time on her
+finger the golden wedding-ring.
+
+"In the presence of you all, before God, I place this ring upon my
+wife's hand as a symbol of unbreaking faith and loyalty! I pledge my
+life to hers; and promise to defend her from all evil, to shelter her,
+to work for her, and to guard her with such tenderness as shall not
+fail! I swear my faith; and may God forsake me if I break my vow!"
+
+And Sylvie without hesitation, responded in her sweet clear voice.
+
+"In the presence of you all, before God, I take this ring and wear it
+as a symbol of my husband's trust in me, and a token of his love! I
+pledge my life to his; and promise to uphold the honour of his
+name,--to obey him in every just and rightful wish,--to defend his
+actions,--to guard his home in peace and good report,--and to surround
+him with such tenderness as shall not fail! I swear my faith; and may
+God forsake me if I break my vow!"
+
+There followed a deep and almost breathless silence. Then Aubrey spoke
+once more, standing before the throng with Sylvie by his side and her
+hand clasped in his.
+
+"I thank you all, my friends! Strange and unlike all marriage
+ceremonies as ours is to-day, I feel that it is a sacred and a binding
+one! Your thousands of eyes and ears have heard and seen us swear our
+marriage vows--your thousands of hearts and minds have understood the
+spirit in which we accept this solemn sacrament! I will ask you before
+we go, to kneel down with us and repeat 'The Prayer of Heart-searching'
+which I have said with you so often, and to then quietly disperse."
+
+In one moment the vast crowd was kneeling, and Cardinal Bonpre's aged
+eyes filled with tears of emotion as he saw all these human beings,
+moved by one great wave of sympathy, prostrate themselves before the
+simple Cross where the wedded lovers knelt also, and where Manuel alone
+stood, like one who is too sure of God to need the help of prayer.
+
+And Aubrey, thrilled to the heart by the consciousness that all the
+members of that huge congregation were with him in his ideal dream of
+Christian Union, offered up this supplication--
+
+"All-powerful God! Most loving and beneficent Creator of the Universe!
+We Thy creatures, who partake with Thee the endowment of immortality,
+now beseech Thee to look upon us here, kneeling in adoration before
+Thee! Search our hearts and souls with the light of Thy revealing Holy
+Spirit, and see if in any of us there is concealed an unworthy thought,
+or doubt, or distrust, or scorn of Thy unfailing goodness! We ask Thee
+to discover our sins and imperfections to ourselves, and so instruct us
+as to what is displeasing to Thee, that we may remedy these wilful
+blots upon Thy fair intention. Give us the force and fervour, the
+wisdom and truth, to find and follow the way Thou wouldst have us
+go,--and if our strength should fail, constrain us, oh God, to come to
+Thee, whether we learn by sorrow or joy, by punishment or
+pity;--constrain us, so that we may find Thee, whatever else we lose!
+Let the great searchlight of Thy truth be turned upon the secret
+motives of our hearts and minds, and if there be one of us in whom such
+motives be found false, impure, cruel or cowardly, then let Thy just
+wrath fall upon the misguided creature of Thy love, and teach him or
+her, obedience and repentance! We pray that Thou wilt punish us, oh
+God, when we have sinned, that we may know wherein we have offended our
+dear Father;--and equally, when we have sought to serve Thee
+faithfully, may we receive Thy blessing! Make us one with Thee in Thy
+perfect plan of good; teach us how to work Thy will in the fulfilment
+of peace and joy; make our lives of use to this world, and our deaths
+gain to the next, and let the glory of Thy love encompass us, guide us,
+and defend us now and forever, through Christ our Lord, Amen."
+
+After he had ceased, there was a deep silence for many minutes, then
+all the people as if moved by one impulse, rose from their knees, and
+standing, sang the following stanzas, which Aubrey had taught them when
+he first began to preach among them his ideals of love and labour.
+
+ If thou'rt a Christian in deed and thought,
+ Loving thy neighbour as Jesus taught,--
+ Living all days in the sight of Heaven,
+ And not ONE only out of seven,--
+ Sharing thy wealth with the suffering poor,
+ Helping all sorrow that Hope can cure,--
+ Making religion a truth in the heart,
+ And not a cloak to be worn in the mart,
+ Or in high cathedrals and chapels and fanes,
+ Where priests are traders and count the gains,--
+ All God's angels will say, "Well done!"
+ Whenever thy mortal race is run.
+ White and forgiven,
+ Thou'lt enter heaven,
+ And pass, unchallenged, the Golden Gate,
+ Where welcoming spirits watch and wait
+ To hail thy coming with sweet accord
+ To the Holy City of God the Lord!
+
+
+ If Peace is thy prompter, and Love is thy guide,
+ And white-robed Charity walks by thy side,--
+ If thou tellest the truth without oath to bind,
+ Doing thy duty to all mankind,--
+ Raising the lowly, cheering the sad,
+ Finding some goodness e'en in the bad,
+ And owning with sadness if badness there be,
+ There might have been badness in thine and in thee,
+ If Conscience the warder that keeps thee whole
+ Had uttered no voice to thy slumbering soul,--
+ All God's angels will say, "Well done!"
+ Whenever thy mortal race is run.
+ White and forgiven,
+ Thou'lt enter heaven,
+ And pass, unchallenged, the Golden Gate,
+ Where welcoming spirits watch and wait
+ To hail thy coming with sweet accord
+ To the Holy City of God the Lord!
+
+ If thou art humble, and wilt not scorn.
+ However wretched, a brother forlorn,--
+ If thy purse is open to misery's call,
+ And the God thou lovest is God of all,
+ Whatever their colour, clime or creed,
+ Blood of thy blood, in their sorest need,--
+ If every cause that is good and true,
+ And needs assistance to dare and do,
+ Thou helpest on through good and ill,
+ With trust in Heaven, and God's good will,--
+ All God's angels will say, "Well done!"
+ Whenever thy mortal race is run.
+ White and forgiven, Thou'lt enter heaven,
+ And pass, unchallenged, the Golden Gate,
+ Where welcoming spirits watch and wait
+ To hail thy coming with sweet accord
+ To the Holy City of God the Lord!
+
+[Footnote: By the late Charles Mackay, LL.D., F.S.A.]
+
+The effect of the last eight-line chorus sung by thousands of voices,
+was marvellous. Such a spirit of exaltation pervaded the music that the
+common wooden shed-like building in which these followers of one
+earnest man asserted their faith in God rather than in a Church, seemed
+to take upon itself all the architectural beauty of a temple costing
+millions of money. When the singing ceased, Aubrey raised his hand, and
+while his audience yet remained standing, pronounced the blessing.
+
+"God be with you all, my friends!--in your hearts and lives and daily
+conduct! May none of you here present shadow His brightness by one dark
+deed or thought of evil! I will ask you to pray that God may be with me
+too, and with my beloved wife, the future partner of all my work, my
+joys and sorrows, that we may in our union make our lives useful to you
+and to all others who seek our help or care. God's blessing be upon us
+all in the name of Christ our Saviour!"
+
+And with one accord the people answered "Amen!"
+
+Then this brief service over, they began to disperse. Without any
+scramble or rush, but in perfect order and with quiet and reverent
+demeanour, they left their seats and began to make their way out. None
+of them were seen gossiping together, or smiling or nodding over each
+other's shoulders as is very often the case when a congregation
+disperses from a fashionable church. For these people in their worship
+of the Creator, found something reverent, something earnest, something
+true, valuable and necessary to daily living,--and though there were
+two peaceful-looking constables stationed at the door of egress, their
+services were not required to either keep order or compel any of those
+thousands of poor to "move on." They kept order for themselves, and
+were too busy with practical life and thought, to hang about or gossip
+on the way to their various homes. Several members of the congregation
+on hearing that their friend Leigh was going to take his marriage vows
+before them all, had provided themselves with flowers, and these
+managed to pass in front of the platform where, simply and without
+ostentation, they handed up their little bouquets and clusters of such
+blossoms as they had been able to obtain and afford in winter,--violets
+especially, and white chrysanthemums, and one or two rare roses. These
+floral offerings meant much sacrifice on the part of those who gave
+them,--and the tears filled Sylvie's eyes as she noted the eagerness
+with which poor women with worn sad faces, and hands wrinkled and brown
+with toil, handed up their little posies for her to take from them, or
+laid them with a touching humility at her feet. What a wonderful
+wedding hers was, she thought!--far removed from all the world of
+fashion, without any of the hypocritical congratulations of "society"
+friends,--without the sickening, foolish waste, expense and
+artificiality, which nowadays makes a marriage a mere millinery parade.
+She had spoken her vows before thousands whom her husband had helped
+and rescued from heathenism and misery, and all their good wishes and
+prayers for her happiness were wedding gifts such as no money could
+purchase. With a heart full of emotion and gratitude she watched the
+crowd break up and disappear, till when the last few were passing out
+of the building, she said to her husband--
+
+"Let us leave the flowers they have given me here, Aubrey,--here, just
+at the foot of the Cross where you have so often spoken to them. I
+shall feel they will bring me a blessing!"
+
+"It shall be as you wish, sweetheart!" he answered tenderly,--"and I
+must thank you for having entered so readily into the spirit of this
+strange marriage before my poor friends, Sylvie,--for it must have
+seemed very strange to you!--and yet believe me,--no more binding one
+was ever consummated!" He took her hand and kissed it,--then turned to
+Cardinal Bonpre, who had risen and was gazing round the bare common
+building with dreamy eyes of wistful wonderment.
+
+"I thank you too, my dear friend! You have learned something of my work
+since we came to London, and I think you understand thoroughly the true
+sanctity and force of my marriage?"
+
+"I--do!--I do understand it!" said the Cardinal slowly. "And I wish
+with all my heart that all marriage vows could be so solemnly and truly
+taken! But my heart aches--my heart aches for the world! These
+thousands you have helped and taught are but a few,--and they were as
+you have told me, little better than heathen when you came amongst them
+to tell them the true meaning of Christ's message--what of the millions
+more waiting to know what the Church is failing to teach? What have the
+priests of the Lord been doing for nearly two thousand years, that
+there should still be doubters of God!"
+
+Over his face swept a shadow of deep pain, and at that moment Manuel
+left the Cross where he had been leaning and came up and stood beside
+him. The Cardinal looked at his waif wistfully.
+
+"What did you think of this service, my child?"
+
+"I thought that the Master of all these His servants could not be very
+far away!" answered Manuel softly,--"And that if He came suddenly, He
+would find none sleeping!"
+
+"May it prove so!" said Aubrey fervently. "But we own ourselves to be
+unprofitable servants at best,--we can only try to fulfil our Lord's
+commands as nearly to the letter as possible,--and we often fail;--but
+we do honestly make the effort. Shall we go now, my lord Cardinal? You
+look fatigued."
+
+Bonpre sighed heavily. "My spirit is broken, my son!" he answered. "I
+dare not think of what will happen--what is beginning to happen for the
+Christian world! I shall not live to see it; but I have sinned, in
+passing my days in too much peace. Dwelling for many years away in my
+far-off diocese, I have forgotten the hurrying rush of life. I should
+have been more active long ago,--and I fear I shall have but a poor
+account to give of my stewardship when I am called to render it up.
+This is what troubles both my heart and my conscience!"
+
+"Dear friend, you have no cause for trouble!" said Sylvie earnestly.
+"Among all the servants of our Master surely you are one of the most
+faithful!"
+
+"One of the most faithful, and therefore considered one of the most
+faithless!" said Manuel. "Come, let us go now,--and leave these bridal
+flowers where the bride wishes them to be,--at the foot of the Cross,
+as a symbol of her husband's service! Let us go,--the Cardinal has need
+of rest."
+
+They returned to their respective homes,--Aubrey and his wife to a
+little tenement house they had taken for a few weeks in the district in
+order that Sylvie might be able to see and to study for herself the sad
+and bitter lives of those who from birth to death are deprived of all
+the natural joys of happy and wholesome existence,--whose children are
+born and bred up in crime,--where girls are depraved and ruined before
+they are in their teens,--and where nothing of God is ever taught
+beyond that He is a Being who punishes the wicked and rewards the
+good,--and where in the general apathy of utter wretchedness, people
+decide that unless there is something given them in this world to be
+good for, they would rather be bad like the rest of the folks they see
+about them. The Cardinal and Manuel dwelt in rooms not very far away,
+and every day and every hour almost was occupied by them in going among
+these poor, helpless, hopeless ones of the world, bringing them comfort
+and aid and sympathy. Wherever Manuel went, there brightness followed;
+the sick were healed, the starving were fed, the lonely and desolate
+were strengthened and encouraged, and the people who knew no more of
+the Cardinal than that "he was a priest of some sort or other," began
+to watch eagerly for the appearance of the Cardinal's foundling, "the
+child that seemed to love them," as they described him,--and to long
+for even a passing glimpse of the fair face, the steadfast blue eyes,
+the tender smile, of one before whom all rough words were silenced--all
+weeping stilled.
+
+But on this night of all--the night of Sylvie's "religious" marriage,
+the Cardinal was stricken by a heavy blow. He had expected some
+misfortune, but had not realized that it would be quite so heavy as it
+proved. The sum and substance of his trouble was contained in a
+"confidential" letter from Monsignor Moretti, and was worded as
+follows--
+
+"My Lord Cardinal,--It has come to the knowledge of the Holy Father
+that you have not only left Rome without signifying the intention of
+your departure to the Vatican as custom and courtesy should have
+compelled you to do, but that instead of returning to your rightful
+diocese, you have travelled to London, and are there engaged in working
+with the socialist and heretic Aubrey Leigh, who is spreading
+pernicious doctrine among the already distracted and discordant of the
+poorer classes. This fact has to be coupled with the grave offence
+committed against the Holy Father by the street-foundling to whom you
+accord your favour and protection, and whose origin you are unable to
+account for; and the two things taken together, constitute a serious
+breach of conduct on the part of so eminent a dignitary of the Church
+as yourself, and compel the Holy Father most unwillingly and
+sorrowfully to enquire whether he is justified in retaining among his
+servants of the Holy See one who so openly betrays its counsels and
+commands. It is also a matter of the deepest distress to the Holy
+Father, that a picture painted by your niece Donna Angela Sovrani and
+entitled 'The Coming of Christ,' in which the Church itself is depicted
+as under the displeasure of our Lord, should be permitted to
+contaminate the minds of the nations by public exhibition. Through the
+Vatican press, the supreme Pontiff has placed his ban against this most
+infamous picture, and all that the true servants of the Church can do
+to check its pernicious influence, will be done. But it cannot be
+forgotten that Your Eminence is closely connected with all these
+regrettable events, and as we have no actual proof of the authenticity
+of the miracle you are alleged to have performed at Rouen, the Holy
+Father is reluctantly compelled to leave that open to doubt. The
+Archbishop of Rouen very strenuously denies the honesty of the mother
+of the child supposed to be healed by you, and states that she has not
+attended Mass or availed herself of any of the Sacraments for many
+years. We are willing to admit that Your Eminence may personally have
+been unsuspectingly made party to a fraud,--but this does not free you
+from the other charges, (notably that of exonerating the late Abbe
+Vergniaud,) of which you stand arraigned. Remembering, however, the
+high repute enjoyed by Your Eminence throughout your career, and taking
+into kindly consideration your increasing age and failing health, the
+Holy Father commissions me to say that all these grievous backslidings
+on your part shall be freely pardoned if you will,--Firstly,--repudiate
+all connection with your niece, Angela Sovrani, and hold no further
+communication with her or her father Prince Sovrani,--Secondly,--that
+you will break off your acquaintance with the socialist Aubrey Leigh
+and his companion Sylvie Hermenstein, the renegade from the Church of
+her fathers,--and Thirdly,--that you will sever yourself at once and
+forever from the boy you have taken under your protection. This last
+clause is the most important in the opinion of His Holiness. These
+three things being done, you will be permitted to return to your
+diocese, and pursue the usual round of your duties there to the end.
+Failing to fulfil the Holy Father's commands, the alternative is that
+you be deprived of your Cardinal's hat and your diocese together.
+
+"It is with considerable pain that I undertake the transcribing of the
+commands of the Holy Father, and I much desired Monsignor Gherardi to
+follow you to London and lay these matters before you privately, with
+all the personal kindness which his friendship for you makes possible,
+but I regret to say, and you will no doubt regret to learn, that he has
+been smitten with dangerous illness and fever, which for the time being
+prevents his attention to duty. Trusting to hear from you with all
+possible speed that Your Eminence is in readiness to obey the Holy
+Father's paternal wish and high command, I am,
+
+"Your Eminence's obedient servant in Christ,
+
+"Lorenzo Moretti."
+
+The Cardinal read this letter through once--twice--then the paper
+dropped from his hands.
+
+"My God, my God! why hast Thou forsaken me!" he murmured. "What have I
+done in these few months! What must I do!"
+
+A light touch on his arm roused him. Manuel confronted him.
+
+"Why are you sorrowful, dear friend? Have you sad news?"
+
+"Yes, my child! Sad news indeed! I am commanded by the Pope to give up
+all I have in the world! If it were to give to my Master Christ I would
+give it gladly,--but to the Church--I cannot!"
+
+"What does the Pope ask you to resign?" said Manuel.
+
+"My niece Angela and all her love for me!--my friendship with this
+brave man Aubrey Leigh who works among the outcast and the poor,--but
+more than all this,--he asks me to give You up--you! My child, I
+cannot!"
+
+He stretched his thin withered hands out to the slight boyish figure in
+front of him.
+
+"I cannot! I am an old man, near--very near--to the grave--and I love
+you! I need you!--without you the world is dark! I found you all
+alone--I have cared for you and guarded you and served you--I cannot
+let you go!" The tears filled his. eyes and rolled down his worn
+cheeks. "I cannot lose my last comfort!" he repeated feebly. "I cannot
+let You go!"
+
+Silently the boy gave his hands into the old man's fervent clasp, and
+as Bonpre bent his head upon them a sense of peace stole over him,--a
+great and solemn calm. Looking up he saw Manuel earnestly regarding him
+with eyes full of tenderness and light, and a smile upon his lips.
+
+"Be of good courage, dear friend!" he said. "The time of trial is hard,
+but it will soon be over. You must needs part from Angela!--but
+remember she has great work still to do, and she is not left without
+love! You must also part from Aubrey and his wife--but they too are
+given high tasks to fulfil for God's glory--and,--they have each other!
+Yes!--you must part with all these things, dear friend--they are not
+yours to retain;--and if you would keep your place in this world you
+must part with Me!"
+
+"Never!" cried Bonpre, moved to sudden passion. "I cannot! To me the
+world without you would be empty!"
+
+As he spoke these words a sudden memory rang in his brain like a chime
+from some far-distant tower echoing over a width of barren land. "For
+me the world is empty!" had been the words spoken by Manuel when he had
+first found him leaning against the locked Cathedral door in Rouen. And
+with this memory came another, the vision he had seen of the end of the
+world, and the words he had heard spoken by some mysterious voice in
+his sleep,--"The light shineth in darkness and the darkness
+comprehendeth it not!" And still he looked pleadingly, earnestly,
+almost fearingly, into the face of his foundling.
+
+"We must speak of this again," said Manuel then, gently. "But to-night,
+for at least some hours, you must rest! Have patience with your own
+thoughts, dear friend! To part with earthly loves is a sorrow that must
+always be;--Angela is young and you are old!--she has her task to do,
+and yours is nearly finished! You must part with Aubrey Leigh,--you
+cannot help him,--his work is planned,--his ways ordained. Thus, you
+have no one to command your life save the Church,--and it seems that
+you must choose between the Church and me! To keep Me, you must forego
+the Church. To keep the Church you must say farewell to Me! But think
+no more of it just now--sleep and rest--leave all to God!"
+
+The Cardinal still looked at him earnestly.
+
+"You will not leave me? You will not, for a thought of saving me from
+my difficulties, go from me? If I sleep I shall find you when I wake?"
+
+"I will never leave you till you bid me go!" answered Manuel. "And if I
+am taken far from hence you shall go with me! Rest, dear friend--rest,
+true servant of God! Rest without thought--without care--till I call
+you!"
+
+
+
+
+XXXIX.
+
+The night darkened steadily down over London,--a chill dreary night of
+heavy fog, half-melting into rain. Cardinal Bonpre, though left to
+himself, did not rest at once as Manuel had so tenderly bidden him to
+do, but moved by an impulse stronger than any worldly discretion or
+consideration, sat down and wrote a letter to the Supreme Pontiff,--a
+letter every word of which came straight from his honest heart, and
+which he addressed to the Head of his Church directly and personally,
+without seeking the interposition of Lorenzo Moretti. And thus he
+wrote, in obedience to the dictate of his own soul--
+
+"Most Holy Father!--I have this day received through Monsignor Moretti
+the text of certain commands laid by Your Holiness upon me to fulfil if
+I would still serve the Church, as I have in all truth and devotion
+served it for so many years. These commands are difficult to realise,
+and still more difficult to obey,--I would rather believe that Your
+Holiness has issued them in brief anger, than that they are the result
+of a reasonable conviction, or condition of your own heart and
+intellect. In no way can I admit that my conduct has been of a nature
+to give offence to you or to the Holy See, for I have only in all
+things sought to obey the teaching of our Lord Jesus Christ, upon whose
+memory our faith is founded. Your Holiness desires me, first, to cease
+every communication with the only relatives left to me on earth,--my
+brother-in-law Pietro Sovrani and his daughter, the daughter of my dead
+sister, my niece Angela. You demand the severance of these bonds of
+nature, because my niece has produced a work of art, for which she
+alone is responsible. I venture most humbly to submit to Your Holiness
+that this can scarcely be called true Christian justice to me,--for,
+whereas on the one side I cannot be made answerable for the thoughts or
+the work of a separately responsible individual, on the other hand I
+should surely not be prohibited from exercising my influence, if
+necessary, on the future career of those related to me by blood as well
+as endeared to me by duty and affection. My niece has suffered more
+cruelly than most women; and it is entirely owing to her refusal to
+speak, that the memory of Florian Varillo, her late affianced husband,
+is not openly branded as that of a criminal, instead of being as now,
+merely under the shadow of suspicion. For we know that he was her
+assassin,--all Rome feels the truth,--and yet being dead, his name is
+left open to the benefit of a doubt because she who was so nearly slain
+by him she loved, forgives and is silent. I submit to Your Holiness
+that this forgiveness and silence symbolise true Christianity, on the
+part of the poor child who has fallen under your displeasure,--and that
+as the Christian Creed goes, your pity and consideration for her should
+somewhat soften the ban you have set against her on account of the work
+she has given to the world. As a servant of Holy Church I deeply
+deplore the subject of that work, while fully admitting its merit as a
+great conception of art,--but even on this point I would most humbly
+point out to Your Holiness that genius is not always under the control
+of its possessor. For being a fire of most searching and persuasive
+quality it does so command the soul, and through the soul the brain and
+hand, that oftentimes it would appear as if the actual creator of a
+great work is the last unit to be considered in the scheme, and that it
+has been carried out by some force altogether beyond and above
+humanity. Therefore, speaking with all humility and sorrow, it may
+chance that Angela Sovrani's picture 'The Coming of Christ' may contain
+a required lesson to us of the Church as well as to certain sections of
+certain people, and that as all genius comes from God, it would be well
+to enquire earnestly whether we do not perhaps in these days need some
+hint or warning of the kind to recall us from ways of error, ere we
+wander too far. But, having laid this matter straightly before Your
+Holiness, I am nevertheless willing to accede to your desire, and see
+my young niece and her father no more. For truly there is very little
+chance of my so doing, as my age and health will scarcely permit me to
+travel far from my diocese again, if indeed I ever return to it. The
+same statement will apply with greater force to the friendship I have
+lately formed with him whom you call 'heretic,'--Aubrey Leigh. Your
+Holiness is mistaken in thinking that I have assisted him in his work
+among the poor and desolate of London--though I would it had been
+possible for me to do so! For I have seen such misery, such
+godlessness, such despair, such self-destruction in this great English
+city, the admitted centre of civilization, that I would give my whole
+life twice, ay, three times over again to be able to relieve it in ever
+so small a degree. The priests of our Church and of all Churches are
+here,--they preach, but do very little in the way of practice, and few
+like Aubrey Leigh sacrifice their personal entity, their daily life,
+their sleep, their very thoughts, to help the suffering of their
+fellow-men. Holy Father, the people whom Aubrey Leigh works for, never
+believed in a God at all till this man came among them. Yet there are
+religious centres here, and teachers--Sunday after Sunday, the message
+of the Gospel is pronounced to inattentive ears and callous souls, and
+yet all have remained in darkest atheism, in hopeless misery, till
+their earnest, patient, sympathising, tender brother, the so-called
+'atheist,' came to persuade them out of darkness into light, and made
+the burdens of their living lighter to bear. And will you not admit him
+as a Christian? Surely he must be; for as our Lord Himself declares,
+'Not every man that shall say unto Me Lord, Lord, shall enter into the
+kingdom of heaven, but he that doeth the will of My Father which is in
+heaven.' And of a certainty, the will of the Father is that the lost
+should be found, the perishing saved, the despairing comforted,--and
+all these things Aubrey Leigh has done, and is yet doing. But I do not
+work with him--I am here to look on--and looking on, to regret my lost
+youth!
+
+"Touching the miracle attributed to me at Rouen, I have gone over this
+ground so often with Your Holiness, both by letter and personally while
+in Rome, that it seems but foolish to repeat the story of my complete
+innocence in the matter. I prayed for the crippled child, and laid my
+hands upon him in blessing. From that day I never saw him--never have
+seen him again. I can bear no witness to his recovery,--your news came
+from persons at Rouen, and not from me. I am as unconscious of having
+healed the child as I am innocent of having any part in the
+disappearance of the man Claude Cazeau. The whole thing is as complete
+a mystery to me as it is to Your Holiness or to any of those who have
+heard the story. I fully and freely admit, as I have always fully and
+freely admitted, that I condoned and forgave the sin of the Abbe
+Vergniaud, and this, not only because the man was dying, but because we
+are strictly commanded to forgive those who truly repent. And on this
+point, I cannot even to you, Most Holy Father, admit that I have been
+wrong.
+
+"And now coming to the last part of Your Holiness' expressed desire,
+wherein you ask me to part from the boy I rescued,--the child Manuel,
+who is all alone in the world,--I cannot acknowledge it to be a
+Christian act to desert anyone whom we have once befriended. The boy is
+young, and far too gentle to fight the world or to meet with such love
+and consideration as his youth and simplicity deserve. I will not
+disguise, however, from Your Holiness that I have been often much
+troubled in mind regarding his companionship with me,--for foolish as
+you may judge my words, I feel that there is something in him not
+altogether of earth,--that he speaks at times as a wise prophet might
+speak,--or as an Angel sent to warn the world of swiftly-coming
+disaster! Of the strangely daring spirit in which he addressed himself
+to Your Holiness at the Vatican it is not for me to discourse--I cannot
+explain it or condone it, for I was overcome with amazement and fear,
+and realized the position no more than did Your Holiness at the time,
+or than did those of your confidants immediately around us. It was
+indeed a matter that went beyond us all.
+
+"But the chief end of this letter is arrived at--Your Holiness asks me
+to part with this boy. With the deepest regret at the rupture you
+threaten to cause between myself and Holy Church if I disobey this
+command, I must still utterly refuse to do so. So long as the child
+looks upon me as a friend, so long will I be one to him. So long as he
+will accept the shelter of my roof, so long shall he receive it. I
+would rather break with a dozen Churches, a dozen forms of creed, than
+be untrue to a child who trusts me! That is my answer to Your Holiness,
+and in giving it I add the sincere expression of my sorrow to cause you
+displeasure or pain. But I venture to pray you, Holy Father, to pause
+and consider deeply before you eject me from the Church for so simple
+and plain a matter. Let me as one who is nearing the grave in company
+with yourself--as one who with yourself must soon stand on that dark
+brink of the Eternal from which we see the Light beyond--let me most
+humbly yet most earnestly point out to you the far more serious things
+than my offence, which are threatening Rome to-day. The people of all
+lands are wandering away from faith, and wars and terrors are
+encompassing the land. The lust of gold and pride of life are now the
+chief objects of man's existence and desire, and there was hardly ever
+a time in history when utter indifference to the laws of God was more
+openly exhibited than it is just now. The sin of unbelief and all the
+evils attendant on that sin are steadily increasing, and the Church
+seems powerless to stop the approaching disaster. Is it, that knowing
+herself to be weak, she does not make the attempt to be strong? If this
+is so, she must fall, and not all the getting-in of gold will help her!
+But you, Holy Father--you might arrest all this trouble if you would!
+If you would change the doctrines of Superstition for those of
+Science--if you would purify our beautiful creed from pagan observances
+and incredible idolatries--if you would raise the Church of Rome like a
+pure white Cross above the blackening strife, you might save the
+sinking ship of faith even now! So little is needed!--simplicity
+instead of ostentation--voluntary poverty instead of countless riches,
+spiritual power instead of the perpetual cry for temporal power,--the
+doctrine of Christ instead of the doctrine of Church Councils--and the
+glad welcoming and incorporation of every true, beautiful, wise and
+wonderful discovery of the age into the symbolic teaching of our Creed.
+Holy Father, if this is not done, then things old must disappear to
+make room for things new,--and a new Church of Christ must rise from
+the ashes of Rome! We cannot but call to mind the words of St. John,
+'Repent and do the first works, or else I will come quickly and remove
+thy candlestick from its place.' 'Do the first works.' Holy Father,
+those first works, as exemplified in Christ Himself, were love,
+charity, pity and pardon for all men! With all my heart I beseech Your
+Holiness to let these virtues simplify and sustain our Church,--and so
+raise it a burning and shining light of loving-kindness and universal
+tolerance,--so shall it be the true city set on a hill which shall draw
+all men to its shelter! But if unjust judgment, intolerance, cruelty
+and fanaticism, should again be allowed, as once before in history, to
+blot its fairness and blight its reputation, then there is not much
+time left to it,--inasmuch as there is a force in the world to-day
+likely to prove too strong for many of us,--a mighty combat for Truth,
+in which conflicting creeds will fight their questions out together
+with terrible passion and insistence, bringing many souls to grief and
+pitiful disaster. You, Holy Father, can arrest all this by making the
+Church of Rome, Christian rather than Pagan--by removing every touch of
+idolatry, every recollection of paid prayers, and by teaching a lofty,
+pure and practical faith such as our Redeemer desired for us, so that
+it may be a refuge in the storm, a haven wherein all the world shall
+find peace. This is for you and for those who come after you to do,--I,
+Felix Bonpre, shall not be here to see the change so wrought, for I
+shall have gone from hence to answer for my poor stewardship,--God
+grant I may not be found altogether wanting in intention, though I may
+have been inadequate in deed! And so with my earnest prayer for your
+health and long continuance of life I bid you farewell, asking you
+nothing for myself at all but a reasonable judgment,--unprejudiced and
+calm and Christlike,--which will in good time persuade you that it
+would be but a cruelty to carry out your indignation against me by
+depriving me of that diocese where all my people know and love
+me,--simply because I have befriended a child, and because having once
+befriended him I refuse to desert him. But if your mind should remain
+absolutely fixed to carry out your intentions I can only bow my head to
+your will and submit to the stroke of destiny, feeling it to be my
+Master's wish that I should suffer something for His sake, and knowing
+from His words that if I 'offend one of these little ones,' such as
+this friendless boy, 'it were better for me that a millstone were hung
+about my neck and I myself drowned in the depths of the sea!' Between
+the Church doctrine and Christ's own gospel, I choose the gospel;
+between Rome's discipline and Christ's command I choose Christ's
+command,--and shall be content to be glad or sorrowful, fortunate or
+poor, as equally to live or die as my Master, and YOUR Master, shall
+bid. For we all are nothing but His creatures, bound to serve Him, and
+where we serve Him not there must be evil worse than death.
+
+"So in all humbleness still awaiting a more reasonable decision at your
+hands, I am, Most Holy Father,
+
+"Your faithful servant and brother in Christ,
+
+"Felix Bonpre."
+
+This letter finished, signed and sealed, the Cardinal addressed it and
+enclosed it under cover to one of the secretaries at the Vatican who he
+knew might be trusted to deliver it personally into the Supreme
+Pontiff's own hands. Then stretching out his arms wearily he closed his
+eyes for a moment with a sigh of mingled relief and fatigue. The night
+was very cold, and though there had been a fire in the room all day, it
+had died down in the grate, and there were only a few little dull
+embers now glowing at the last bar. The chill of the air was deepening,
+and a shiver ran through the spare, fragile form of the venerable
+prelate as he rose at last from his chair and prepared to take his
+rest. His sleeping room was a very small one, adjoining that in which
+he now stood, and as he glanced at his watch and saw that time had gone
+on so rapidly that it was nearly eleven o'clock, he decided that he
+would only lie down for two or three hours.
+
+"For there is much to do yet," he mused. "This one letter to the Pope
+will not suffice. I must write to Angela,--to say farewell to her, poor
+child!--and give her once more my blessing--and then I must prepare the
+way at home--for myself, and also for Manuel." He sighed again as the
+vision of his own house in the peaceful old-world French town far away,
+floated before his mental sight,--almost he heard the sweet chiming of
+the bells in his own Cathedral tower; which like a pyramid of delicate
+lace-work, always seemed held up in the air by some invisible agency to
+let the shafts of sunlight glimmer through,--once more he saw the great
+roses in his garden, pink and white and cream and yellow, clambering
+over the walls and up to the very roof of his picturesque and peaceful
+home--the white doves nesting in the warm sun--the ripe apples hanging
+on the gnarled boughs, the simple peasantry walking up his garden
+paths, coming to him with their little histories of pain and
+disappointment and sorrow; which were as great to them as any of the
+wider miseries of sufferers more beset with anguish than themselves. He
+thought of it all sorrowfully and tenderly,--his habit was ever to
+think of others rather than himself,--and he wondered sadly, as he
+considered all the bitterness and hardships of the poor human creatures
+who are forced into life on this planet,--why life should be made so
+cruel and hard for them,--why sudden and unprepared death should snap
+the ties of tenderest love--why cruelty and treachery should blight the
+hopes of the faithful and the trusting--why human beings should always
+be more ready to destroy each other than to help each other--why, to
+sum all up, so merciful and divine a Being as Christ came at all into
+this world if it were not to make the world happier and bring it nearer
+to heaven!
+
+"The ways of the Infinite Ordainment are dark and difficult to
+understand," he said. "And I deserve punishment for daring to enquire
+into wisely-hidden mysteries! But, God knows it is not for myself that
+I would pierce the veil! Nothing that concerns myself at all
+matters,--I am a straw on the wind,--a leaf on the storm--and whatever
+God's law provides for me, that I accept and understand to be best. But
+for many millions of sad souls it is not so--and their way is hard! If
+they could fully understand the purpose of existence they would be
+happier--but they cannot--and we of the Church are too blind ourselves
+to help them, for if a little chink of light be opened to us, we
+obstinately refuse to see!"
+
+He went to his sleeping room and threw himself down on his bed dressed
+as he was, too fatigued in body and mind to do more than utter his
+brief usual prayer, "If this should be the sleep of death, Lord Jesus
+receive my soul!" And as he closed his eyes he heard the rain drop on
+the roof in heavy slow drops that sounded like the dull ticking of a
+monstrous clock piecing away the time;--and then he slept, deeply and
+dreamlessly,--the calm and unconscious and refreshing slumber of a
+child.
+
+How long he slept he did not know, but he was wakened suddenly by a
+touch and a voice he knew and loved, calling him. He sprang up with
+almost the alacrity of youth, and saw Manuel standing beside him.
+
+"Did you call me, my child?"
+
+"Yes, dear friend!" And Manuel smiled upon him with a look that
+conveyed the brightness of perfect love straight from the glance into
+the soul. "I need you for myself alone to-night! Come out with me!"
+
+The Cardinal gazed at him in wonder that was half a fear.
+
+"Come out with me!"
+
+Those had been the words the boy had used to the Pope, the Head of the
+Church, when he had dared to speak his thoughts openly before that
+chiefest man of all in Rome!
+
+"Come out with me!"
+
+"Now, in the darkness and the rain?" asked the Cardinal wonderingly.
+"You wish it? Then I will come!"
+
+Manuel said nothing further, but simply turned and led the way. They
+passed out of the little tenement house they inhabited into the dark
+cold street,--and the door closed with a loud bang behind them, shut to
+by the angry wind. The rain began to fall more heavily, and the small
+slight figure of the waif and stray he had befriended seemed to the
+Cardinal to look more lonely and piteous than ever in the driving fog
+and darkness.
+
+"Whither would you go, my child?" he asked gently. "You will suffer
+from the cold and storm--"
+
+"And you?" said Manuel. "Will you not also suffer? But you never think
+of yourself at all!--and it is because you do not think of yourself
+that I know you will come with me to-night!--even through a thousand
+storms!--through all danger and darkness and pain and trouble,--you
+will come with me! You have been my friend for many days--you will not
+leave me now?"
+
+"Neither now nor at any time," answered Bonpre firmly and tenderly. "I
+will go with you where you will! Is it to some sad home you are taking
+me?--some stricken soul to whom we may give comfort?"
+
+Manuel answered not,--but merely waved his small hand beckoningly, and
+passed along up the street through the drifting rain, lightly and
+aerially as though he were a spirit,--and the Cardinal possessed by
+some strange emotion that gave swiftness to his movements and strength
+to his will, followed. They met scarcely a soul. One or two forlorn
+wayfarers crossed their path--a girl in rags,--then a man half-drunk
+and reeling foolishly from side to side. Manuel paused, looking at them.
+
+"Poor sad souls!" he said. "If we could see all the history of their
+lives we should pity them and not condemn!"
+
+"Who is it that condemns?" murmured Bonpre gently.
+
+"No one save Man!" responded Manuel. "God condemns nothing--because in
+everything there is a portion of Himself. And when man presumes to
+condemn and persecute his fellow-men, he is guilty of likewise
+condemning and persecuting his Maker, and outraging that Maker in his
+own perverted soul!"
+
+The boy's voice rang out solemn and clear,--and the heavy fog drifting
+densely through the street, seemed to the Cardinal's keenly awakened
+and perturbed senses as though it brightened into a golden vapour round
+that childish figure, and illumined it with a radiation of concealed
+light. But having thus spoken, Manuel turned and went on once
+more,--and faithfully, in a mental ravishment which to himself was
+inexplicable, the venerable Felix followed. And presently they came to
+the plain and uncomely wooden edifice where Aubrey Leigh and his bride
+had plighted their vows that morning. The door was open--Aubrey would
+always have it so, lest any poor suffering creature might need a
+moment's rest, and resting thankfully, might see the Cross and
+perchance find help in prayer.
+
+"Do you remember," said Manuel then, "when you found me outside the
+great Cathedral, how the doors were barred against me? This door is
+always open!"
+
+He entered the building, and the Cardinal followed, wondering and
+deeply agitated. It should have been dark within, but instead of
+darkness, a soft light pervaded it from end to end, a warm and delicate
+radiance, coloured with a rose glory as of sunset--and Bonpre seeing
+this stopped, seized with a sudden fear. He looked about him--on either
+side the huge unadorned barn-like place was empty,--he and Manuel stood
+alone together as it were in the cold vast void. Before them towered
+the Cross on its raised platform, and below that Cross was the sloping
+footway leading to it, where lay many of the buds and leaves and
+blossoms of Sylvie's bridal flowers given to her by the poor, and
+yet--in this empty desolate shed there was a sense of warmth and
+consolation, and the light that illumined it was as the light of
+Heaven! Trembling in every limb, the Cardinal turned to his
+companion--words were on his lips, but they faltered and refused to be
+spoken aloud. And Manuel gently touching him said--
+
+"Follow me!"
+
+Straight up through the centre of this place hallowed by the prayers of
+the poor and the broken-hearted, the light child-figure moved, the old
+man following,--till at the footway leading to the Cross he paused.
+
+"Here will we pray together!" he said,--and as he spoke a smile lighted
+his eyes and rested on his lips--a smile which gave his fair face the
+aspect of a rapt angel of wisdom and beauty. "Here will we ask the
+Father which is in Heaven--the Father of all worlds--whether we shall
+part now one from the other, or still remain--together!"
+
+As he spoke a rush of music filled the air,--and the Cardinal sank
+feebly on his knees, overcome by a great wave of awe and terror which
+engulfed his soul--for it was the same divine, far-reaching,
+penetrative music which had once before enthralled his ears in the
+Cathedral at Rouen. Kneeling he clasped his worn hands, and in all the
+dizziness and confusion of his brain, raised his eyes for help to the
+great Cross, bare of all beauty, save for the flowers of Sylvie's
+strange bridal that lay at its foot. And as he looked he saw a
+marvellous Vision!--a Dream of Angels standing on either side of that
+symbol of salvation!--of angels tall and white and beautiful, whose
+towering pinions glowed with the radiant light of a thousand mornings!
+Amazed and awe-stricken at this great sight, he uttered a faint cry and
+turned to his child companion.
+
+"Manuel!"
+
+"I am here," answered the clear young voice. "Be not afraid!"
+
+And now the music of the unseen choir of sound seemed to grow deeper
+and fuller and grander,--and Felix Bonpre, caught up, as it were, out
+of all earthly surroundings, and only made conscious of the growing
+ascendency of Spirit over Matter, saw the bare building around him
+beginning to wondrously change its aspect. Slowly, as though a wind
+should bend straight trees into an arching round, the plain walls took
+on themselves a form of perfect architectural beauty,--like swaying
+stems of flowers or intertwisted branches, the lines formed
+symmetrically, and through the shadowy sculptured semblance came the
+gleam of "a light that never was on sea or land,"--the dazzling light
+of thousands of shining wings!--of thousands of lustrous watchful
+eyes!--of thousands of dazzling faces, that shone like stars or were
+fair as flowers! The Vision grew more and more beautiful--more and more
+full of light--and through veils of golden vapour, great branching
+lilies seemed to grow and blossom out, filling the air with perfume,
+and in their flowering beauty perfected the airy semblance of this
+wondrous Place of Prayer built by spiritual hands--and like a far-off
+echo of sweetness falling from unseen heights there came a musical
+whisper of the chorus sung by the poor--
+
+ "All God s angels will say, 'Well done!'
+ Whenever thy mortal race is run.
+ White and forgiven,
+ Thou'lt enter heaven,
+ And pass, unchallenged, the Golden Gate,
+ Where welcoming spirits watch and wait
+ To hail thy coming with sweet accord
+ To the Holy City of God the Lord!"
+
+A convulsive trembling seized the Cardinal's mortal frame--but the soul
+within him was strong and invincible. With hands outstretched he turned
+to Manuel,--and lo!--the boy was moving away from him--moving slowly
+but resolutely up towards the Cross! Breathless, speechless, the aged
+Felix watched him with straining uplifted eyes,--and as he watched, saw
+his garments grow white and glistening, and a great light began to
+shine about him--till reaching the foot of the Cross He turned,--and
+then--He was no more a child! All the glory of the "Vision Beautiful"
+shone full upon the dying body and escaping soul of Christ's faithful
+servant!--the Divine Head crowned with thorns!--the Divine arms
+stretched out against the beams of the great Cross!--the Divine look of
+love and welcome!--and with a loud cry of ecstasy Felix Bonpre extended
+his trembling hands.
+
+"Master! Master!" he murmured. "Did not my heart burn within me when
+Thou didst talk with me by the way!"
+
+Yearning towards that Mystic Glory he clasped his hands, and in the
+splendour of the dream, and through the pulsations of the solemn music
+he heard a Voice--the Voice of his child companion Manuel, but a Voice
+grown full of Divine authority while yet possessing all human
+tenderness.
+
+"Well done, thou good and faithful servant! Because thou hast been
+faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things!
+Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord!"
+
+And at that Voice--and in the inexplicable beauty of that Look of Love,
+Felix Bonpre, "Prince of the Roman Church," whose faithfulness Rome
+called in question, gave up his mortal life,--and with a trembling sigh
+of death and delight intermingled, fell face forward at the foot of the
+Cross, where the radiance of his Master's Presence shone like the sun
+in heaven! And as he passed from death to life, the Vision faded--the
+light grew dim,--the arches of the heavenly temple not made with hands
+melted away and rolled up like clouds of the night dispersing into
+space--the last dazzling Angel face, the last branch of Heavenly
+flowers--vanished--and the music of the spheres died into silence. And
+when the morning sun shone through the narrow windows of that Place of
+Prayer dedicated only to the poor, its wintry beams encircled the
+peaceful form of the Dead Cardinal with a pale halo of gold,--and when
+they came and found him there and turned his face to the light--it was
+as the face of a glorified saint, whom God had greatly loved!
+
+. . . . . . . . . .
+
+And of the "Cardinal's foundling"--what of Him? Many wondered and
+sought to trace Him, but no one ever heard where He had gone.
+Now,--when the Cardinal himself has been laid to rest in the shadow of
+his own Cathedral spires--and the roses which he loved so well are
+growing into a crimson and white canopy over his quiet grave, there are
+those who wonder who that lonely child wanderer was,--and whether He
+ever will return? Some say He has never disappeared,--but that in some
+form or manifestation of wisdom, He is ever with as, watching to see
+whether His work is well or ill done,--whether His flocks are fed, or
+led astray to be devoured by wolves--whether His straight and simple
+commands are fulfilled or disobeyed. And the days grow dark and
+threatening--and life is more and more beset with difficulty and
+disaster--and the world is moving more and more swiftly on to its
+predestined end--and the Churches are as stagnant pools, from whence
+Death is far more often born than Life.
+
+And may we not ask ourselves often in these days the question,--
+
+"When the Son of Man cometh, think ye He shall find faith on earth?"
+
+
+
+
+Appendix.
+
+Relics of Paganism in Christianity as Approved by English Bishops.
+
+The Archbishop of Canterbury, on being questioned as to certain Roman
+observances carried on at St. Bartholomew's, Dover, admitted "There may
+be irregularities," but added "they do not appear to be of any
+importance." One of these "unimportant irregularities" was the
+introduction of the Confessional.
+
+The Archbishop of York considers the use of incense, which is a relic
+of paganism, "a most beautiful and significant symbol of Divine
+Service"--and though the services at Christ Church, Doncaster, are
+known to be but a very slightly modified form of the Romish ritual, His
+Grace has not seen fit to interfere. The parish church of
+Hensall-cum-Heck, in the Archbishop's diocese, is entirely Roman
+Catholic, and the Vicar, Mr. E. H. Bryan, might from his practices, be
+a priest of Rome endeavouring by secret methods to "convert" his parish
+to the Holy See.
+
+The Bishop of London sanctions the use of incense and permits
+children's Masses and hymns to the Virgin.
+
+The Bishop of Chester advises the Rev. W. C. Reid, Vicar of Coppenhall,
+to use incense preceding the service of Holy Communion.
+
+The Bishop of Chichester ignores the fact that at St. Bartholomew's,
+Brighton, seven hundred confessions were heard before Christmas, 1898,
+and that ten thousand were heard in that parish last year.
+
+The Bishop of Lincoln preached at "High Mass" at St. Mary Magdalene,
+Paddington, on January 7, 1899. The only difference in the service on
+this occasion from that of the Roman Church was the use of the English
+language instead of Latin.
+
+The Bishop of Oxford, on being appealed to by parishioners on January
+11, 1900, attending at the Church of St. John, Cowley, Oxford, and
+asked to suppress the Romish practices carried on there, which were
+totally out of keeping with the simplicity of true Christian worship,
+gave them no redress.
+
+The Bishop of St. Aibans, charged in the House of Lords with favouring
+practices not lawful in the Church of England, declined to answer. On
+this point the Daily Telegraph wrote--"Does the Bishop of St. Albans
+understand that he is responsible to the State as well as to his own
+conscience? Has he any inkling of the notorious fact that the proper
+administration of a diocese is not a private or a personal matter, but
+an onerous public task, for which he is rightly held accountable?"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Master-Christian, by Marie Corelli
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