ast that his cassock
flapped against his hips. It was Abbe Eufemio, the Cardinal's secretary,
and when he had perceived his Eminence on the balcony he lost all
self-respect, and broke into a run, in order that he might the sooner
ascend the sloping street. "Ah! here's Eufemio," exclaimed the Cardinal,
quivering with anxiety. "We shall know now, we shall know now."

The secretary had plunged into the doorway below, and he climbed the
stairs with such rapidity that almost immediately afterwards Pierre saw
him rush breathlessly across the waiting-room, and vanish into the
Cardinal's sanctum. Sanguinetti had quitted the balcony to meet his
messenger, but soon afterwards he returned to it asking questions,
venting exclamations, raising, in fact, quite a tumult over the news
which he had received. "And so it's really true, the night was a bad one.
His Holiness scarcely slept! Colic, you were told? But nothing could be
worse at his age; it might carry him off in a couple of hours. And the
doctors, what do they say?"

The answer did not reach Pierre, but he understood its purport as the
Cardinal in his naturally loud voice resumed: "Oh! the doctors never
know. Besides, when they refuse to speak death is never far off. _Dio_!
what a misfortune if the catastrophe cannot be deferred for a few days!"

Then he became silent, and Pierre realised that his eyes were once more
travelling towards Rome, gazing with ambitious anguish at the dome of St.
Peter's, that little, sparkling speck above the vast, ruddy plain. What a
commotion, what agitation if the Pope were dead! And he wished that it
had merely been necessary for him to stretch forth his arm in order to
take and hold the Eternal City, the Holy City, which, yonder on the
horizon, occupied no more space than a heap of gravel cast there by a
child's spade. And he was already dreaming of the coming Conclave, when
the canopy of each other cardinal would fall, and his own, motionless and
sovereign, would crown him with purple.

"But you are right, my friend!" he suddenly exclaimed, addressing
Santobono, "one must act, the salvation of the Church is at stake. And,
besides, it is impossible that Heaven should not be with us, since our
sole desire is its triumph. If necessary, at the supreme moment, Heaven
will know how to crush Antichrist."

Then, for the first time, Pierre distinctly heard the voice of Santobono,
who, gruffly, with a sort of savage decision, responded: "Oh! if Heav