affair: it has nothing to do with me," said Reitzei,
shortly.

"Well," said Calabressa, toying with his coffee-cup. "I hope I shall
never be tempted to do anything that might lead the Council to condemn
me. Fancy such a life; every moment expecting some one to step up behind
you with a knife or a pistol, and the end sure! I would take Provana's
plan. The poor devil; as soon as he heard he had been condemned he could
not bear living. He never thought of escape: a few big stones in the
pockets of his coat, and over he slips into the Arno. And Mesentskoff:
you remember him? His only notion of escape was to give himself up to
the police--twenty-five years in the mines. I think Provana's plan was
better."

Reitzei became a little uneasy, or perhaps only impatient.

"Well, Calabressa," he said, "one must be getting along to one's
affairs--"

"Oh yes, yes, truly," Calabressa said. "I only wished to know a little
more about the Cardinal. You see he cannot give himself up like
Mesentskoff, though he might confess to a hundred worse things than the
Russian ever did. Provana--well, you know the Society has always been
inexorable with regard to its own officers: and rightly, too, Reitzei,
is it not so? If one finds malversation of justice among those in a high
grade, should not the punishment be exemplary? The higher the power, the
higher the responsibility. You, for example, are much too shrewd a man
to risk your life by taking any advantage of your position as one of the
officers--"

"I don't understand you, Calabressa," the other said, somewhat hotly.

"I only meant to say," Calabressa observed, carelessly, "that the
punishment for malversation of justice on the part of an officer is so
terrible, so swift, and so sure, that no one but a madman would think of
running the risk--"

"Yes, but what has that to do with me?" Reitzei said, angrily.

"Nothing, my dear friend, nothing," said Calabressa, soothingly. "But
now, about this selection of Mr. Brand--"

Reitzei turned rather pale for a second; but said instantly, and with
apparent anger,

"I tell you that is none of my business. That is Mr. Lind's business.
What have I to do with it?"

"Do not be so impatient, my friend," said Calabressa, looking at his
coffee. "We will say that, as usual, there was a ballot. All quite fair.
No man wishes to avoid his duty. It is the simplest thing in the world
to mark one of your pieces of paper with a red mark: whoever receives