ought that those long, cruel fingers of Marzio's
had hammered and worked out the delicate design would pursue him and
disturb his thoughts. The sound of Marzio's voice, mocking at all the
priest held holy, would be in his ears and would mingle with the very
words of the canon.

But then, provided that he himself were not obliged to use his brother's
chalices, what could it matter? The Cardinal did not know the artist,
and whatever picture he might make to himself of the man would be
shadowy and indistinct. The feeling, then, was his own and quite
personal. It would be the height of superstitious folly to suppose that
any evil principle could be attached to the silver and gold because they
were chiselled by impious hands. A simple matter this, but one which had
many a time distressed Don Paolo.

There was a long pause after the priest's last words, during which the
prelate looked at him from time to time, examined his own white hands,
and turned his great ruby ring round his finger.

"Let us go to work," he said at length, as though dismissing the subject
of the conversation from his mind.

Paolo fetched a large portfolio of papers and established himself at the
writing-table, while the Cardinal examined the documents one by one, and
dictated what he had to say about them to his secretary. During two
hours or more the two men remained steadily at their task. When the last
paper was read and the last note upon it written out, the Cardinal rose
from his arm-chair and went to the window. There was no sound in the
room but that of the sand rattling upon the stiff surface, as Paolo
poured it over the wet ink in the old-fashioned way, shook it about and
returned it to the little sandbox by the inkstand. Suddenly the old
churchman turned round and faced the priest.

"One of these days, when you and I are asleep out there at San Lorenzo,
there will be a fight, my friend," he said.

"About what, Eminence?" asked the other.

"About silver chalices, perhaps. About many things. It will be a great
fight, such as the world has never seen before."

"I do not understand," said Don Paolo.

"Your brother represents an idea," answered the Cardinal. "That idea is
the subversion of all social principle. It is an idea which must spread,
because there is an enormous number of depraved men in the world who
have a very great interest in the destruction of law. The watchword of
that party will always be 'there is no God,' because God is