of abuse, a bagful of
accusations against statesmen; they are calumnies, especially if you
apply them to that gentleman over there, or to me; but I am willing to
admit that politics are not a suitable business for saints. He who made
the world did not intend that they should be! He is to blame for that.
Nevertheless, some one must attend to politics. At present we are doing
this, and if we ourselves be not saints, at least you see how patiently
we deal with saints. And listen,"

The Under-Secretary looked at his watch.

"It is getting late," he said, "and saintliness may encounter some
dangers, at such a late hour, in the streets of Rome. You had better go,
now."

He stretched out his hand towards the electric bell, meaning to summon
the usher.

"_Signor Ministro!_" Benedetto exclaimed, with such vehemence that the
Under-Secretary remained motionless, his arm extended, as though frozen
in the act. "You fear for the State, for the Monarchy, for liberty,
you fear the socialists and the anarchists, but you should be far more
afraid of your colleagues, who scoff at God! for socialism and anarchism
are merely fevers, while scoffing is even as gangrene! As for you," he
added, turning to the Under-Secretary, "you deride One who is silent.
Fear His silence!"

Before either of the two potentates could speak a word, or move,
Benedetto had left the room.

* * * * *

He descended the great stairway, all quivering with the reflex action of
the words which had burst from his heart, and with the feverish fire
in his blood. His legs shook and bent under him. He was once or twice
obliged to seize the banisters and stop. On reaching the last column,
he leaned his throbbing forehead against it, seeking its coolness. But
immediately he drew away, with a feeling of repugnance for the very
stones of this palace, as if they were infected by treason, were
accomplices of the atrociously vile bargain which had been struck there
between ministers of Christ and ministers of the State. He sat down on
one of the lower steps, quite exhausted, without noticing the lighted
lamps of a carriage which was waiting close to him, doubtless the
Minister's carriage, and not caring who might see him. He breathed more
freely; his indignation was beginning to cool down and turn to sorrow,
and a desire to weep for the sad blindness of the world. Then he began
to feel so lonely, so bitterly lonely. Only she, the partner of hi