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"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.
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!
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.
"'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.
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!
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! "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!
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.
'E 'ave white spots all over 'im on 'is chest and what you call 'is paws, and every evening she 'ave to paint 'im like she paint 'er face. Madame Moretti that was a good sort bonne enfant what you say? domestic not really of ze Circus at all. She like to wash up and cook leetle bonnes-bouches for supper.
"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.
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!
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