"Have you ever thought, sir, of the end of the unjust Minister? Think of

his dying hour, tortured with the memory of young lives dissolved,

mothers dead, widows desolate, and orphans in tears. Think of the day

after his death, when he who has passed through the world like the

scourge of God lies at its feet, and no one so mean but he may spurn the

dishonoured carcass. You are aiming high, your Excellency, but beware,

beware!"

The Pope sat, and the King rose to his feet.

"Your Majesty," said the Pope, "the day will come when we must both

present ourselves before God to render to Him an account of our deeds,

and I, being far more advanced in years, will assuredly be the first.

But I would not dare to meet the eye of my Judge if I did not this day

warn you of the dangers in which you stand. Only God knows by what

inscrutable decree of Providence one man is made a Pope or a King, while

another man, his equal or superior, is made a beggar or a slave. But God

who made Popes and Kings meant them to be the fathers, not the seducers

of their subjects. A sovereign may be a man of good intentions, but if

he is weak, and allows himself to fall into the hands of despotic

Ministers, he is a worse affliction than the cruellest tyrant. Think

well, your Majesty! A throne may be a quagmire, and a man may be buried

in it, and buried alive."

The young King began to falter some incoherent words, but without

listening the Pope rose to end the audience.

"You promise me," said the Pope, "that if--I say if--in order to avoid

bloodshed and to prevent a crime, I obtain from this lady the

identification of her husband as the person condemned for the former

conspiracy, you will spare and pardon him whatever happens?"

"Holy Father, I give you my solemn word for it."

"Then leave me! Let me think!... Wait! If she consents, where must she

go to?"

"To the Procura by the Ponte Ripetta, and, as time presses, at ten

o'clock on Saturday morning," said the Baron.

"Leave me! Leave me!"

The King knelt again and kissed the Pope's hand, but the Baron only

bowed as he passed out behind his sovereign.

The opening of the doors let in a wave of sound that was like the roll

of a great wind in a cave. Tenebræ had been going on for some time in

the Basilica, and the people were singing the Miserere.




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