owe my counsel to every Christian who desires to do
well. But it would be wrong for you to rely on my influence. I have none.
I live entirely apart from others; I cannot and will not ask for
anything. However, this will not prevent us from chatting." Then,
approaching the question in all frankness, without the slightest
artifice, like one of brave and absolute mind who fears no responsibility
however great, he continued: "You have written a book, have you
not?--'New Rome,' I believe--and you have come to defend this book which
has been denounced to the Congregation of the Index. For my own part I
have not yet read it. You will understand that I cannot read everything.
I only see the works that are sent to me by the Congregation which I have
belonged to since last year; and, besides, I often content myself with
the reports which my secretary draws up for me. However, my niece
Benedetta has read your book, and has told me that it is not lacking in
interest. It first astonished her somewhat, and then greatly moved her.
So I promise you that I will go through it and study the incriminated
passages with the greatest care."

Pierre profited by the opportunity to begin pleading his cause. And it
occurred to him that it would be best to give his references at once.
"Your Eminence will realise how stupefied I was when I learnt that
proceedings were being taken against my book," he said. "Monsieur le
Vicomte Philibert de la Choue, who is good enough to show me some
friendship, does not cease repeating that such a book is worth the best
of armies to the Holy See."

"Oh! De la Choue, De la Choue!" repeated the Cardinal with a pout of
good-natured disdain. "I know that De la Choue considers himself a good
Catholic. He is in a slight degree our relative, as you know. And when he
comes to Rome and stays here, I willingly see him, on condition however
that no mention is made of certain subjects on which it would be
impossible for us to agree. To tell the truth, the Catholicism preached
by De la Choue--worthy, clever man though he is--his Catholicism, I say,
with his corporations, his working-class clubs, his cleansed democracy
and his vague socialism, is after all merely so much literature!"

This pronouncement struck Pierre, for he realised all the disdainful
irony contained in it--an irony which touched himself. And so he hastened
to name his other reference, whose authority he imagined to be above
discussion: "His Eminence Cardin