tle touch of Montanelli's hand upon his shoulder.

"You have had some great trouble. Can I do anything to help you?"

The Gadfly shook his head in silence.

"Are you a pilgrim?"

"I am a miserable sinner."

The accidental similarity of Montanelli's question to the password came
like a chance straw, that the Gadfly, in his desperation, caught at,
answering automatically. He had begun to tremble under the soft pressure
of the hand that seemed to burn upon his shoulder.

The Cardinal bent down closer to him.

"Perhaps you would care to speak to me alone? If I can be any help to
you----"

For the first time the Gadfly looked straight and steadily into
Montanelli's eyes; he was already recovering his self-command.

"It would be no use," he said; "the thing is hopeless."

A police official stepped forward out of the crowd.

"Forgive my intruding, Your Eminence. I think the old man is not quite
sound in his mind. He is perfectly harmless, and his papers are in
order, so we don't interfere with him. He has been in penal servitude
for a great crime, and is now doing penance."

"A great crime," the Gadfly repeated, shaking his head slowly.

"Thank you, captain; stand aside a little, please. My friend, nothing is
hopeless if a man has sincerely repented. Will you not come to me this
evening?"

"Would Your Eminence receive a man who is guilty of the death of his own
son?"

The question had almost the tone of a challenge, and Montanelli shrank
and shivered under it as under a cold wind.

"God forbid that I should condemn you, whatever you have done!" he said
solemnly. "In His sight we are all guilty alike, and our righteousness
is as filthy rags. If you will come to me I will receive you as I pray
that He may one day receive me."

The Gadfly stretched out his hands with a sudden gesture of passion.

"Listen!" he said; "and listen all of you, Christians! If a man has
killed his only son--his son who loved and trusted him, who was flesh of
his flesh and bone of his bone; if he has led his son into a death-trap
with lies and deceit--is there hope for that man in earth or heaven?
I have confessed my sin before God and man, and I have suffered the
punishment that men have laid on me, and they have let me go; but when
will God say, 'It is enough'? What benediction will take away His curse
from my soul? What absolution will undo this thing that I have done?"

In the dead silence that followed the people looked at Mon