ers, and looked at her with a
steady face.

"At any rate," he said, "if Monsignor Montanelli is not himself a
scoundrel, he is a tool in scoundrelly hands. It is all one to me which
he is--and to my friends across the frontier. A stone in the path may
have the best intentions, but it must be kicked out of the path, for all
that. Allow me, signora!" He rang the bell, and, limping to the door,
opened it for her to pass out.

"It was very kind of you to call, signora. May I send for a vettura? No?
Good-afternoon, then! Bianca, open the hall-door, please."

Gemma went out into the street, pondering anxiously. "My friends across
the frontier"--who were they? And how was the stone to be kicked out of
the path? If with satire only, why had he said it with such dangerous
eyes?

CHAPTER IV.

MONSIGNOR MONTANELLI arrived in Florence in the first week of October.
His visit caused a little flutter of excitement throughout the town. He
was a famous preacher and a representative of the reformed Papacy; and
people looked eagerly to him for an exposition of the "new doctrine,"
the gospel of love and reconciliation which was to cure the sorrows of
Italy. The nomination of Cardinal Gizzi to the Roman State Secretaryship
in place of the universally detested Lambruschini had raised the public
enthusiasm to its highest pitch; and Montanelli was just the man who
could most easily sustain it. The irreproachable strictness of his life
was a phenomenon sufficiently rare among the high dignitaries of the
Roman Church to attract the attention of people accustomed to regard
blackmailing, peculation, and disreputable intrigues as almost
invariable adjuncts to the career of a prelate. Moreover, his talent as
a preacher was really great; and with his beautiful voice and magnetic
personality, he would in any time and place have made his mark.

Grassini, as usual, strained every nerve to get the newly arrived
celebrity to his house; but Montanelli was no easy game to catch. To
all invitations he replied with the same courteous but positive refusal,
saying that his health was bad and his time fully occupied, and that he
had neither strength nor leisure for going into society.

"What omnivorous creatures those Grassinis are!" Martini said
contemptuously to Gemma as they crossed the Signoria square one bright,
cold Sunday morning. "Did you notice the way Grassini bowed when the
Cardinal's carriage drove up? It's all one to them who a man is, s