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Updated: June 12, 2025
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!
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!
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!
"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!"
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.
"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.
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.
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!
"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!"
"For no one!" said Cyrillon passionately "For no poor sinking, seeking soul is there any such visible comforter!
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