conscience may dictate, as you may
deem best.

"And pray for the soul of

Your poor

DON GIUSEPPE FLORES."

Benedetto laid the paper down, and gazed into the Pontiff's face,
waiting.

"Are you Piero Maironi?" he said.

"Yes, your Holiness."

The Pontiff smiled pleasantly.

"First of all, I am glad you are alive," he said. "That Bishop believed
you were dead; he opened the packet, and deemed it his duty to entrust
it to the Vicar of Christ. This happened about six months ago, while
my saintly predecessor was still living. He mentioned it to several
cardinals and to me also. Then it was discovered that you were still
alive, and we knew where you lived and how. Now I must ask you a few
questions, and I exhort you to answer with perfect truth."

The Pontiff looked with serious eyes into Benedetto's eyes; Benedetto
bowed his head slightly. "You have written here," the Pontiff began,
"that when you were in that little church in the Veneto, you had a
vision of yourself in the Vatican, conversing with the Pope. What can
you recall concerning that part of your vision?"

"My vision," Benedetto answered, "grew more and more indistinct in
my memory during the time I spent at Santa Scolastica--about three
years--partly because my spiritual director there, as well as poor Don
Giuseppe Flores, always counselled me not to dwell upon it. Certain
parts remained clear to me, others became indistinct. The fact that I
had seen myself in the Vatican, face to face with the Sovereign Pontiff,
remained fixed in my mind; but only the bare fact. A few moments ago,
however, there in the dark gallery from whence I entered this room, I
suddenly remembered that in the vision I was guided to the Pontiff by a
spirit. I recalled this when I found myself alone in the night, in the
darkness, in a place unknown to me, or practically unknown, for I had
been there only once, many years before, when, having no idea what
direction to take, I was about to retrace my steps, and an inward voice,
very clear, very loud, commanded me to press forward."

"And when you knocked at the door," the Pope inquired, "did you know you
would find me here? Did you know you were knocking at the door of the
library?"

"No, Your Holiness. I did not even intend to knock. I was in the dark; I
could see nothing, I was simply touching, the wall with my hand."

The Pope was silent for some time, lost in thought; then he remarked
that the manuscript contained the wor