第 19 页

without acting criminally both towards myself and towards others. No,

never! You hear me--never!"

Silence fell. But almost immediately he resumed: "It is at the knees of

the Holy Father that I desire to make that declaration. He will

understand me, he will approve me."

Nani no longer smiled; henceforth his face remained as it were closed. He

seemed to be studying the sudden violence of the young priest with

curiosity; then sought to calm him with his own tranquil kindliness. "No

doubt, no doubt," said he. "There is certainly great sweetness in

obedience and humility. Still I can understand that, before anything

else, you should desire to speak to his Holiness. And afterwards you will

see--is that not so?--you will see--"

Then he evinced a lively interest in the suggested application for an

audience. He expressed keen regret that Pierre had not forwarded that

application from Paris, before even coming to Rome: in that course would

have rested the best chance of a favourable reply. Bother of any kind was

not liked at the Vatican, and if the news of the young priest's presence

in Rome should only spread abroad, and the motives of his journey be

discussed, all would be lost. Then, on learning that Narcisse had offered

to present Pierre to the French ambassador, Nani seemed full of anxiety,

and deprecated any such proceeding: "No, no! don't do that--it would be

most imprudent. In the first place you would run the risk of embarrassing

the ambassador, whose position is always delicate in affairs of this

kind. And then, too, if he failed--and my fear is that he might

fail--yes, if he failed it would be all over; you would no longer have

the slightest chance of obtaining an audience by any other means. For the

Vatican would not like to hurt the ambassador's feelings by yielding to

other influence after resisting his."

Pierre anxiously glanced at Narcisse, who wagged his head, embarrassed

and hesitating. "The fact is," the _attache_ at last murmured, "we lately

solicited an audience for a high French personage and it was refused,

which was very unpleasant for us. Monsignor is right. We must keep our

ambassador in reserve, and only utilise him when we have exhausted all

other means." Then, noticing Pierre's disappointment, he added

obligingly: "Our first visit therefore shall be for my cousin at the

Vatican."

Nani, his attention again roused, looked at the young man in

astonishment. "At the Vatican? You have a cousin there?"

"Why, yes--Monsignor Gamba del Zoppo."

"Gamba! Gamba! Yes, yes, excuse me, I remember now. Ah! so you thought of

Gamba to bring influence to bear on his Holiness? That's an idea, no

doubt; one must see--one must see."

He repeated these words again and again as if to secure time to see into

the matter himself, to weigh the pros and cons of the suggestion.

Monsignor Gamba del Zoppo was a worthy man who played no part at the

Papal Court, whose nullity indeed had become a byword at the Vatican. His

childish stories, however, amused the Pope, whom he greatly flattered,

and who was fond of leaning on his arm while walking in the gardens. It

was during these strolls that Gamba easily secured all sorts of little

favours. However, he was a remarkable poltroon, and had such an intense

fear of losing his influence that he never risked a request without

having convinced himself by long meditation that no possible harm could

come to him through it.

"Well, do you know, the idea is not a bad one," Nani at last declared.

"Yes, yes, Gamba can secure the audience for you, if he is willing. I

will see him myself and explain the matter."

At the same time Nani did not cease advising extreme caution. He even

ventured to say that it was necessary to be on one's guard with the papal

_entourage_, for, alas! it was a fact his Holiness was so good, and had

such a blind faith in the goodness of others, that he had not always

chosen his familiars with the critical care which he ought to have

displayed. Thus one never knew to what sort of man one might be applying,

or in what trap one might be setting one's foot. Nani even allowed it to

be understood that on no account ought any direct application to be made

to his Eminence the Secretary of State, for even his Eminence was not a

free agent, but found himself encompassed by intrigues of such intricacy

that his best intentions were paralysed. And as Nani went on discoursing

in this fashion, in a very gentle, extremely unctuous manner, the Vatican

appeared like some enchanted castle, guarded by jealous and treacherous

dragons--a castle where one must not take a step, pass through a doorway,

risk a limb, without having carefully assured oneself that one would not

leave one's whole body there to be devoured.

Pierre continued listening, feeling colder and colder at heart, and again

sinking into uncertainty. "_Mon Dieu_!" he exclaimed, "I shall never know

how to act. You discourage me, Monsignor."

At this Nani's cordial smile reappeared. "I, my dear child? I should be

sorry to do so. I only want to repeat to you that you must wait and do

nothing. Avoid all feverishness especially. There is no hurry, I assure

you, for it was only yesterday that a _consultore_ was chosen to report

upon your book, so you have a good full month before you. Avoid

everybody, live in such a way that people shall be virtually ignorant of

your existence, visit Rome in peace and quietness--that is the best

course you can adopt to forward your interests." Then, taking one of the

priest's hands between both his own, so aristocratic, soft, and plump, he

added: "You will understand that I have my reasons for speaking to you

like this. I should have offered my own services; I should have made it a

point of honour to take you straight to his Holiness, had I thought it

advisable. But I do not wish to mix myself up in the matter at this

stage; I realise only too well that at the present moment we should

simply make sad work of it. Later on--you hear me--later on, in the event

of nobody else succeeding, I myself will obtain you an audience; I

formally promise it. But meanwhile, I entreat you, refrain from using

those words 'a new religion,' which, unfortunately, occur in your book,

and which I heard you repeat again only last night. There can be no new

religion, my dear child; there is but one eternal religion, which is

beyond all surrender and compromise--the Catholic, Apostolic, and Roman

religion. And at the same time leave your Paris friends to themselves.

Don't rely too much on Cardinal Bergerot, whose lofty piety is not

sufficiently appreciated in Rome. I assure you that I am speaking to you

as a friend."

Then, seeing how disabled Pierre appeared to be, half overcome already,

no longer knowing in what direction to begin his campaign, he again

strove to comfort him: "Come, come, things will right themselves;

everything will end for the best, both for the welfare of the Church and

your own. And now you must excuse me, I must leave you; I shall not be

able to see his Eminence to-day, for it is impossible for me to wait any

longer."

Abbe Paparelli, whom Pierre had noticed prowling around with his ears

cocked, now hastened forward and declared to Monsignor Nani that there

were only two persons to be received before him. But the prelate very

graciously replied that he would come back again at another time, for the

affair which he wished to lay before his Eminence was in no wise

pressing. Then he withdrew, courteously bowing to everybody.

Narcisse Habert's turn came almost immediately afterwards. However,

before entering the throne-room he pressed Pierre's hand, repeating, "So

it is understood. I will go to see my cousin at the Vatican to-morrow,

and directly I get a reply I will let you know. We shall meet again soon

I hope."

It was now past twelve o'clock, and the only remaining visitor was one of

the two old ladies who seemed to have fallen asleep. At his little

secretarial table Don Vigilio still sat covering huge sheets of yellow

paper with fine handwriting, from which he only lifted his eyes at

intervals to glance about him distrustfully, and make sure that nothing

threatened him.

In the mournful silence which fell around, Pierre lingered for yet

another moment in the deep embrasure of the window. Ah! what anxiety

consumed his poor, tender, enthusiastic heart! On leaving Paris things

had seemed so simple, so natural to him! He was unjustly accused, and he

started off to defend himself, arrived and flung himself at the feet of

the Holy Father, who listened to him indulgently. Did not the Pope

personify living religion, intelligence to understand, justice based upon

truth? And was he not, before aught else, the Father, the delegate of

divine forgiveness and mercy, with arms outstretched towards all the

children of the Church, even the guilty ones? Was it not meet, then, that

he should leave his door wide open so that the humblest of his sons might

freely enter to relate their troubles, confess their transgressions,

explain their conduct, imbibe comfort from the source of eternal loving

kindness? And yet on the very first day of his, Pierre's, arrival, the

doors closed upon him with a bang; he felt himself sinking into a hostile

sphere, full of traps and pitfalls. One and all cried out to him

"Beware!" as if he were incurring the greatest dangers in setting one

foot before the other. His desire to see the Pope became an extraordinary

pretension, so difficult of achievement that it set the interests and

passions and influences of the whole Vatican agog. And there was endless

conflicting advice, long-discussed manoeuvring, all the strategy of

generals leading an army to victory, and fresh complications ever arising

in the midst of a dim stealthy swarming of intrigues. Ah! good Lord! how

different all this was from the charitable reception that Pierre had

anticipated: the pastor's house standing open beside the high road for

the admission of all the sheep of the flock, both those that were docile

and those that had gone astray.

That which began to frighten Pierre, however, was the evil, the

wickedness, which he could divine vaguely stirring in the gloom: Cardinal

Bergerot suspected, dubbed a Revolutionary, deemed so compromising that

he, Pierre, was advised not to mention his name again! The young priest

once more saw Cardinal Boccanera's pout of disdain while speaking of his

colleague. And then Monsignor Nani had warned him not to repeat those

words "a new religion," as if it were not clear to everybody that they

simply signified the return of Catholicism to the primitive purity of

Christianity! Was that one of the crimes denounced to the Congregation of

the Index? He had begun to suspect who his accusers were, and felt

alarmed, for he was now conscious of secret subterranean plotting, a

great stealthy effort to strike him down and suppress his work. All that

surrounded him became suspicious. If he listened to advice and

temporised, it was solely to follow the same politic course as his

adversaries, to learn to know them before acting. He would spend a few

days in meditation, in surveying and studying that black world of Rome

which to him had proved so unexpected. But, at the same time, in the

revolt of his apostle-like faith, he swore, even as he had said to Nani,

that he would never yield, never change either a page or a line of his

book, but maintain it in its integrity in the broad daylight as the

unshakable testimony of his belief. Even were the book condemned by the

Index, he would not tender submission, withdraw aught of it. And should

it become necessary he would quit the Church, he would go even as far as

schism, continuing to preach the new religion and writing a new book,

_Real Rome_, such as he now vaguely began to espy.

However, Don Vigilio had ceased writing, and gazed so fixedly at Pierre

that the latter at last stepped up to him politely in order to take

leave. And then the secretary, yielding, despite his fears, to a desire

to confide in him, murmured, "He came simply on your account, you know;

he wanted to ascertain the result of your interview with his Eminence."

It was not necessary for Don Vigilio to mention Nani by name; Pierre

understood. "Really, do you think so?" he asked.

"Oh! there is no doubt of it. And if you take my advice you will do what

he desires with a good grace, for it is absolutely certain that you will

do it later on."

These words brought Pierre's disquietude and exasperation to a climax. He

went off with a gesture of defiance. They would see if he would ever

yield.

The three ante-rooms which he again crossed appeared to him blacker,

emptier, more lifeless than ever. In the second one Abbe Paparelli

saluted him with a little silent bow; in the first the sleepy lackey did

not even seem to see him. A spider was weaving its web between the

tassels of the great red hat under the _baldacchino_. Would not the

better course have been to set the pick at work amongst all that rotting

past, now crumbling into dust, so that the sunlight might stream in

freely and restore to the purified soil the fruitfulness of youth?

PART II.

IV.

ON the afternoon of that same day Pierre, having leisure before him, at

once thought of beginning his peregrinations through Rome by a visit on

which he had set his heart. Almost immediately after the publication of

"New Rome" he had been deeply moved and interested by a letter addressed

to him from the Eternal City by old Count Orlando Prada, the hero of

Italian independence and reunion, who, although unacquainted with him,

had written spontaneously after a first hasty perusal of his book. And

the letter had been a flaming protest, a cry of the patriotic faith still

young in the heart of that aged man, who accused him of having forgotten

Italy and claimed Rome, the new Rome, for the country which was at last