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Updated: June 12, 2025
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.
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 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!
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.
"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.
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.
"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.
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.
"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?
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!
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