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She wished Piero to have it immediately, that he might at once pray for the poor dead woman. It was strange, but nevertheless true, that she could merge herself in him, forget herself, her own incredulity, could feel that which he with his faith must feel and desire. That same night the footman gave her an account of his errand. He described Maironi as a ghost, a corpse. She was in despair.
"You must not think, dear Signor Maironi," said he in a voice both harmonious and deep, and which seemed, in a way, to correspond with the melancholy look in his eyes, "you must not think that we are here as two powerful arms of the State. We are here, at the present moment, as two individuals of a very rare species, two statesmen who know their business well, and who despise it still more.
I believe the packet contains an account of a vision of a supernatural nature which visited Maironi when he returned to God out of the fire of a sinful passion. I hoped at that time that the Almighty had chosen him as the instrument of some special work of His own.
He trusted that in the near future Signor Maironi would be able to exert his influence freely in a very high place; there were many signs of an imminent transformation, of an imminent misfortune to befall the non-concessionists; but, for the moment, it would be more prudent for him to disappear.
Carlino called to them to stop there if they liked, but to pretend to be engaged in an interesting conversation. Noemi answered her friend with a "yes" so timid and soft that Jeanne understood all. Maria Selva believed that her monk, this Don Clemente, was Piero Maironi. "Oh, God!" she exclaimed, tightly pressing Noemi's hand. "But did she really say so?" "Say what?" "What indeed!" Good heavens!
There could be no doubt about this. Maria herself would warn him. As she did not believe him to have been Jeanne's lover it would be easier for her to speak naturally to him of her. But what a terrible thing it would be if he really were Maironi, and if they should meet face to face, quite unprepared, in front of the monastery, he and the woman!
Ever since Wednesday night they had known at Palazzo Braschi where Maironi was, but he would not tell her so, for the Under-Secretary of State had still less confidence in his wife than Jeanne herself. But the most important news came from the Vatican.
Giovanni himself is past-master at this, but when Giovanni speaks you are impressed above all, by the immense store of knowledge his mind contains; when Maironi speaks you feel that the living Christ is in his heart, the risen Christ, and he fires you!
He did not at once raise his head heavy with conscious power from the newspaper. He raised it when he felt inclined to do so, and looked carelessly at this atom of the people who stood before him. "Be seated," he said in a frigid tone. Benedetto obeyed. "You are Signor Maironi?" "Yes, sir." "I am sorry to have troubled you, but it was necessary."
As soon as the carriage had started Jeanne raised her veil and took the note from her muff, bending her lovely pale face over it, gazing at it, but not reading it or studying the sense, clear and simple enough, of the words it contained. She was wondering what Signora Albacina could have to tell her; imagining all sorts of impossible things. Had they decided to leave Maironi alone?
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